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After a week in LA, much of it spent in bed, he and Chloe had settled into a comfortable easy existence. In the morning Jordan would leave the house and head down to Laguna Beach and the resort, while Chloe continued to work on her album.
In the late afternoon, they would meet up once more. Enjoy an hour or so of hot sweaty sex, before showering and eating dinner. Jordan didn’t feel right eating heavy meals in the evening while Chloe was forced to drink protein shakes, so he usually ate a full late lunch and then stuck to fruit at night.
He was supporting Chloe, but he secretly relished watching Marta get all bent out of shape over his impeccable behavior. For every opportunity that might present itself where she could find fault with him, Jordan was always one step ahead. He’d love to have just five minutes alone with Marta. She was a serious piece of work.
“Are you nervous about heading up the resort launch?”
It was wonderful that Chloe was interested in the project. That she asked questions beyond the obvious ones such as opening dates and when people could start booking rooms. Was he nervous? “Yeah, I guess I am. This is a big project, and I would hate to stuff it up. Dad and Bryce both went all in with the board to get their approval for my appointment. When we are closer to opening, I would love to take you down to the site and give you a private tour.”
“I’d like that. The pictures you’ve shown me look fantastic, but nothing would beat actually seeing the place.”
The loud roar of a car’s engine split the night. Chloe swore. “He has got to be kidding.”
“What?”
She climbed off the bed and went to the window. “Yep, it’s Foster. Eleven o’clock at night and he just rocks up without so much as a phone call.”
They both turned their heads in response to a loud knock pounding on the bedroom door, followed by the sound of an all too familiar—and all too unwelcome—voice bellowing from out in the hall. “Foster is here, Chloe. You had better get dressed.”
When did Marta arrive back at the house? I thought she’d left hours ago. And how did she know Foster was coming? There’s something not right about all this.
To his disappointment, Chloe didn’t question any of it, instead she went straight to her dressing room. When she returned a few minutes later, she was fully clothed. Their gazes met for an instant and she gave him a small shake of the head. The message was clear.Just don’t say anything.
This was her life, her career. Much as he wanted to step in and play the role of being her champion, he had no right to interfere.
While Chloe headed downstairs, Jordan hit the shower.
* * *
“Hi, Foster. It’s a bit late for a house call, don’t you think? You do have a phone, you could have called and checked to see if I was available.”
Jordan’s personality was beginning to rub off on her. Before him, Chloe would never have spoken to her manager like that. Instead she would have been scurrying to the kitchen to make him a coffee.
“I spoke to the team at the recording studio today and your producer tells me the album is still not going well. Has the Chloe talent well finally run dry?”
He was sticking the knife into the soft flesh of her pride and twisting it hard. Foster knew exactly how to hurt her.
“Five tracks are completed, I’m just not sure if the last couple are right. I’m working on them.”
“Well maybe if you closed your legs and stopped wasting time with your toy boy, you might come up with a new song. Something that will sell this album. Because right now, none of your fans will buy it because it’s a damn embarrassing mess.”
Chloe blinked back hot tears. She hated it when Foster was in one of these moods, the ones where he stood and tore her down. Made her feel small, worthless.
“Jordan isn’t a toy boy.”
“Really? Well I would beg to differ. I think he’s a waste of fucking space.”
“You don’t know Jordan, or what he means to me.”
Foster moved forward, coming to stand closer to Chloe. He towered over her. This was yet another of his many ploys he used to intimidate, to make her bend to his will.
“You are right—I don’t know him. All I do know is that the record company is getting fed up, and so am I.” He let out a tired sigh. “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. When will you learn that the only people who know what is good for you are the people who are already in your life?”
She was shrinking. Her childhood trauma was rising to the surface, whispering all its horrible words. Telling her she was no good. That no one would ever want her. That she was unlovable.
“I’ll get the album finished, I promise.”
Foster reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to her. “That’s the day and time theChloe Jetleaves LA at the end of next week. As I told you, I am the only one who knows what’s best. I’ve spoken to the record company, and they have agreed for you to go and work with Kevin Smith in London.”
