AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Finally, he signs the contract with his left hand. His hand doesn't stop trembling.
Strangely, his handwriting looks familiar. "I didn't know you were left-handed."
"There's very little you know about me," Brandon says.
Once he finishes signing, he tosses the pen on the table and turns away. But before he leaves, he turns to look at me one more time. "One day she'll notice what kind of scumbag you are, and she’ll leave you. And then I'll be the one there to pick up the pieces."
After saying this, he leaves, slamming the door loudly as he exits the studio.
Silence falls around me for a moment.
No one has to tell me that these contractors are probably all thinking the same thing about me. The gossip hasn't stopped swirling since yesterday when Logan and I confronted each other in front of the club.
By now, Logan has left the country. According to the media and his own agent, he would return to London for a season so he could give himself a well-deserved break from the media and concentrate on his own career. But I know it's all a lie.
He probably did some research and realized that it's not in his best interest to mess with me.
That hasn't shut up the reporters, who won’t stop talking about us. For the last twenty-four hours, the tabloids haven't stopped talking about the subject. They’ve been writing Andrea off as a submissive girl who is incapable of getting ahead while her controlling boyfriend's clutches still hold her back.
It’s clear that none of them really know her well enough to realize that she is anything but a helpless little mouse.
I confess that I believed it myself the first time I saw her. Now, I realize I was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
As my thoughts fly to her, it’s almost as if I’ve invoked her, because I receive a call.
"I need you to come get me."
Her words are direct and although they’re serene, I sense a certain alertness in her voice that sets me on edge.
"Tell me what's going on," I ask her as I grab my car keys. I know she’s been recording an interview for television on a well-known news.
"There are too many reporters waiting for me in front of the studio door. I'm afraid I can't get out," Andrea says.
"I'll be right there," I promise her.
Cursing to myself, I hurry to my car without stopping to think about anything but her and her safety.
Unfortunately, this has been happening to us since yesterday, when the internet started blowing up because of the fight between Logan and me.
In a matter of hours, we were trending. People do nothing but talk about us, and the paparazzi are following us everywhere.
Andrea is still inside the studio when I arrive to pick her up. She’s accompanied by three security guards who escort her to the building's private parking lot.
She looks gorgeous in her outfit, which is a dark blazer and matching baggy pants, and a pearl pink corset that is bordered by flowers that trail around her breasts.
The image would be much more attractive if her face wasn't furrowed with fear. She immediately gets in the car and puts on her seat belt. "Get me out of here," she says.
I obey without complaint, driving through the crowds that crowd the entrance to the parking lot. Finally, I manage to get us lost within New York traffic.
Only then does Andrea sigh, clearly overwhelmed, braiding a lock of her hair repeatedly.
"I won't be able to stand this for long," she tell me.
"You won't have to," I promise, taking her hand.
"How do you know?" She looks at me in anguish.
