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Zelda took the tissue and blew her nose, and quashed the cowardly urge to use her argument with Seb to deflect attention again. No doubt he had blanked Mercy, too, which was probably why her friend didn’t want to talk about what had happened upstairs.
Poor Mercy, she was such a loyal friend, and such an optimist about people. And always so determined to face any problem head on. But even she would now finally be forced to admit Sebastian was a lost cause, if she couldn’t make an impression on him in all her glorious Argentinian fury.
But as the four of them lounged on an array of colorful pillows in the living room of Zelda’s suite, and Zelda observed her friends’ expressions, all shadowed with concern for her, she knew she couldn’t pretend Seb was the real cause of her distress. Any more than the jackals still amassed outside her front door.
“The press stuff doesn’t bother me,” she said.
“But they flat out lied about you,” Faith said. “They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”
“If I wanted to sue them, I’d have to prove I have a reputation to protect. And I don’t. And that’s my fault, not theirs.”
Faith opened her mouth to protest again, but Dawn interrupted. “So what is bothering you, Zel? And don’t tell us it’s because of what happened with Seb, because he’s been a lost cause for a long time…”
Mercy swore softly in Spanish in agreement.
Zelda stared at her mojito, blotting away another tear. Even if she wanted to confide in them, was there really any point? This thing between her and Ty, whatever it was, was already over, and she’d never been one to pick through the wreckage. Not that she’d ever actually had any wreckage worth picking through before.
“You looked very happy in that photo with Faith’s hot brother.”
Zelda’s gaze met Mercy’s at the quietly spoken observation. Mercy had seen through her lies and evasions. Just as she had once before, when she had come to Paris for a flying visit five years ago and found Zelda living in a squalid unheated apartment in the Pigalle, strung out on quaaludes and vodka.
Mercy was the one who had made her see what a mess she was making of her life. And made her acknowledge how low she had allowed herself to sink. Not with angry words or accusations, but with the exact same expression she wore now which simply said: I am here for you, and I will help you, but only if you want to be helped.
Guilt assailed her. She should never have used her friend’s passion and loyalty against her, pretending Seb was the problem, when he really wasn’t.
“Did Ty do something to upset you?” Faith asked. “He’s one of the good guys, I swear, but he wasn’t behaving like himself last Thursday. If he’s done something dumb, you can tell us. He’s my brother and I love him, but he’s still a guy.”
Zelda shook her head. God, how much worse could she feel about this? Now even Faith was willing to stand by her, to trust her and support her. She couldn’t keep silent about this, and let Faith believe that Ty was at fault, when she was the one who had messed up.
“He didn’t do anything wrong. He is one of the good guys.” Which was precisely why he was too good for her. “All he did was tell me he was falling in love with me.”
The silence could only be shock, Zelda decided. Not that a guy would say he was in love her, because she’d had tons of half-assed declarations of undying love over the years. It was the hazard of being a supermodel with a very liberal attitude to sex. But that a guy like Ty would say it. A guy who was brave and honest and sincere and always meant what he said.
“And this is bad because…?” Dawn asked, pouring another virgin mojito and handing it to Zelda.
Zelda swallowed, easing the dryness in her throat. “I hadn’t told him the truth about me. Now he knows the truth and he knows we can never be together and I hurt him and I wish I hadn’t, but I did.”
“What truth are you talking about?” Mercy probed.
“That I’m an alcoholic, of course,” she said.
“And this means you can’t be together because… Why exactly?” Dawn asked.
“Because my recovery has to be a priority. And who wants to live with someone that can’t ever fully commit to a relationship? He deserves better than that. I could never make him happy.”
“Umm, excuse me,” Dawn interceded again. “Surely it’s up to Tyrone to decide what he deserves and what will make him happy.”
“And knowing Ty, he won’t be shy about telling you,” Faith chipped in. “Because he overthinks every damn thing. He’s had a five-year plan in place since he was about ten years old. So if he’s decided he wants you…?” Faith let the question hang in the air.
“I think now he knows the actual extent of what he would be taking on, he’s reconsidered.” Zelda countered.
“What makes you say that?” Mercy asked.
“He hasn’t contacted me again, since last Thursday. We had one final fuck in Sully’s basement. He told me he loved me. I told him I was an alcoholic and that was the end of it.” Okay, maybe she had also told him to leave her alone, or words to that effect—and maybe she had banged on rather loudly about the importance of her recovery. But even so, he hadn’t exactly put up much of a fight, once her secret was out. She felt a tiny prickle of irritation at his instant capitulation surfacing beneath the hurt. Which had to be about as insane as her stealth attack on Sebastia
n while he was building his trellis. But she’d take insane over devastated any day.
“I don’t think I needed to know about the final fuck, thanks,” Faith said.
