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*****
Jaylen kept up the pace until he had passed through the concierge’s desk and returned the flirtatious and slightly adoring smile until he was inside the private elevator that would take him to his suite.
He had been so pissed and annoyed by the argument that he had forgotten that he had dismissed his security detail and had simply jumped into the Corvette and left. He wanted space away from the corporate office.
He had just come home from a two-month-long tour of the Caribbean where he had been doing some commercials for colognes and loungewear for men. He was tired and crotchety and just needed some time to himself.
Keying in his code, he let himself into the elegant and luxurious cream and blue suite, heading straight for the liquor cabinet. The living room was spotless, of course.
He had a maid coming in to take care of the place whenever he was due to return home. Pouring a generous amount of whiskey, he wandered over to the window to stare broodingly at the leaden sky.
He was dead set on going away—far away for six months. He had already accepted the offer from the client. Six months of island hopping, something that sounded about what he needed right now.
He was at the peak of his career and was enjoying the fruits of his labor. He had treated himself to a speedboat just recently and was in the process of buying a helicopter.
He was not only an international model who commanded an incredibly large salary, he was the son and heir of James Monteith, music producer extraordinaire. He had more money than he could possibly spend in several decades.
But he was growing restless. He had lost the edge, the joy he had felt walking the runway or posing for the camera. Producers and directors had approached him, telling him that he would be perfect for this part or that one, but he was not interested. It would be more of the same.
He was unhappy. A grim smile touched his lips. On the surface, he had everything a young man could possibly want and need. He had women at his beck and call, but it was posing no challenges whatsoever and that was what was bothering him.
It was all so easy. He could pick up the phone and make a call and someone would come running. He was the life of every party. He was wildly popular and his looks and money opened doors for him.
Tossing back the rest of the liquor, he went to put the glass away and took a seat on one of the leather sofas.
Picking up the phone, he brought up the number and placed the call.
“I know it’s late, but I need you to fit me in.”
He listened for a minute. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Dragging his fingers through his hair, he rose and stood there looking around the room. He had been seeing this particular therapist for the past eight months and the woman was discreet. He needed a sit down before the trip tomorrow.
*****
Anika rechecked her suitcase. She was tired and her feet were killing her. Kicking off the heels, she plopped down on the edge of the bed and massaged her soles. She had not meant to stay that long at the office, but she had been caught up.
Tyrone had been mad of course. She had promised to drop by his place earlier today, but time had gotten away from her.
“I can still come over.”
“Don’t bother.” She had heard the petulant tone in his voice and knew that there was going to be another long-drawn-out argument. “Obviously, your job is more important than our relationship.”
“Don’t be ridiculous," she had said sharply. “You know I am going off to Italy in the morning and have to prep for the trip. I am always there for you.”
“Are you?” there had been a nasty note in his voice that had her anger increasing. “It seems to me that you are so caught up with this damn hype, the big prestigious music producer that it is getting to your head.”
She had counted to ten before she responded.
“I am going to let that pass because you are obviously pissed. I will ask again. Do you want me to come over?”
“Don’t do me any damn favors.” He had snapped and hung up on her. Corey was right, she thought with a sigh and she was hanging on because she wanted to be able to stick it out. To try and see if she can do the relationship thing.
Her phone pinged and she thought about not picking up. But it was Corey.
“Hey.”
“Hey. What are you up to?”
