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This was not good.
The shaking in my hands returned, and my breathing picked up. Sadie grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a firm rattle, the tabloids spilling to the fine marble floor of the entryway. "No!" she commanded. "I said don't freak out!"
"How can I not freak out when you're yelling at me!" I cried. My eyes fell to the technicolor mess on the creamy marble. It looked like a pile of vomit. Trashy vomit. "What's with the tabloids?"
In answer, Sadie enveloped me in a fierce hug. "It's going to be okay," she said.
Okay, I thought, now I know this is really bad. On trembling legs I lowered myself to the floor, and Sadie took a step back to allow me to do so, almost as though she were giving me a respectful space to mourn my dead. With numb fingers I reached out and grabbed a National Enquirer.
WATERS AND WIFE'S DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS screamed the headline. And there, beneath it, was a blurry night-vision picture of me sprawled over Anton's lap, my bare ass in the air, as he spanked me in the back garden.
I knew it, I thought. I knew we couldn't get away with it. Another picture of us as we got in a car, my face clear as day, hovered in the lower corner of the front page, just in case no one knew exactly who I was.
The blood drained from my head and I sat heavily on the floor, swaying. Numbly I picked up a copy of the Star. That one was even worse. A shot of Anton and I on the balcony, a collar around my neck, the leash in Anton's hand as he plowed me from behind. That had only been a few days ago.
"Oh my god," I breathed.
Sadie stood next to me, clearly feeling awkward. "Well," she said at last, "at least your tits look good."
I gave a weak laugh. "They're blurred out."
"Yeah. But firm as hell. I mean... damn girl."
I shook my head. "This is... this is not good."
Sadie sat down next to me. "I don't know," she said. "Look how a sex tape launched Paris Hilton's career."
"What career?"
"Oh, you know. Stuff. And you actually have talent! Everyone's going to want a piece of sculpture from the billionaire mogul's sex slave."
"Sadie!" I covered my face with my hands. Fucking Anton. Fucking Anton and his stupid need to get off in public. This was the worst.
She reached out and patted my shoulder awkwardly. "It'll be okay. It's not the end of the world," she said. "And look at it this way: you guys are married. Who cares what married people do? It's the twenty-first century. Maybe if you guys were swingers or something that would be bad, but this is just... just..."
I sneaked a glance at her. She was staring at the Star cover, biting her lip. She was definitely not sure what to think about the leash and collar, but she rallied well. "This is just like something out of a Rihanna video. Yeah, it'll get banned in some places, but everyone's going to be sinfully envious of you. Waters is hot. You got to marry him. And you guys have a sex life like some crazy Eyes Wide Shut shit."
Despite myself, I started to feel a little better. "Maybe I should go talk to Anton," I said.
Sadie nodded wisely, clearly relieved to be wrapping up the topic. "I think that's a good idea. Oh! But I found a great caterer. How do you feel about Ethiopian food?"
I smiled. "Sadie..." I began.
She grinned at me. "More importantly, how do you think your mother will feel about Ethiopian food?"
That made me grin back. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” I said.
*
Two hours later I was walking into Empire Capital's headquarters. I was a familiar enough face that I didn't have to check in any more, simply go to the elevator and head up to the top floor.
I glanced at Katy, manning the front desk, and gave her a smile.
She looked away immediately.
Oh, I thought.
The sick feeling in my stomach returned. What was my mother going to say when she found out? What was my father going to do? He'd never shown any sort of fatherly inclinations to keep me pure and untouched, but when his little girl was splashed across the tabloids in compromising positions he might have a different reaction.
