that I couldn’t tell a light pole from a street sign. I felt like I was being sent off to a death sentence. A little dramatic, but it fit.
Death with a man I thought I could love.
How wrong had I been….
Chapter 9
We flew to L.A. on a private jet. Nicolas sat on the opposite side of the aisle from me, talking into his smartphone most of the flight. Like in the car, I stared out the window most of the time. It was funny…my first time on a plane and I was too depressed to enjoy it.
When we landed, Nicolas suddenly remembered I existed. He slipped into the chair beside me and leaned close to me.
“There will likely be paparazzi outside the airport gates and outside the gates of my house. They’ve been hounding me almost constantly since Aurora’s…well, since everything exploded. It would be great if you’d keep your head down and not encourage any sort of interaction.”
“What are you afraid I’d do? Tell them what a great guy you are?”
Nicolas just shook his head. “This is my reputation you’re playing with here, Ana. If you think I’m an asshole now, wait until you do something to hurt my career.”
I believed him. I just nodded, chewing on my lip so roughly that I tasted blood.
The flight attendant opened the cabin door. Nicolas stood and grabbed me under my upper arm, leading me to the door. I could hear the paparazzi before I saw them, their voices raised in question like a swarm of bumblebees swarming a hive. Another group of bodyguards were waiting beside another black SUV, this one a Ford Explorer. I climbed into the backseat as I heard one particularly loud paparazzi ask who I was.
“That your new girlfriend?” the voice asked. “You getting married again, Nicolas?”
Talking to him like they were buddies, sitting around a poker table. It was offensive, even to me, and I wasn’t really the target of their questions.
“Let’s go,” Nicolas barked to the bodyguard who climbed behind the wheel.
The moment we drove through the gates of the private airport, several cars pulled into traffic behind us, causing something of a commotion as they cut off two other cars that were already on the road. I looked behind us, outside the back windshield, and was shocked at the insane way a few of the paparazzi were hanging out the windows in order to get pictures of the car. They couldn’t even see Nicolas, yet they were willing to put their lives at risk.
“Turn around,” Nicolas said. “There’s no point in watching them. It only encourages them if they see you.”
I settled back down in my seat. Nicolas was next to me, reading something on his smartphone.
“Is it always like this?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this what it was like for Aurora?”
He glanced at me and I caught a glimpse of grief in his eyes. “It was.”
“You don’t think—?”
“Being constantly in the public life is difficult for everyone. Some handle it better than others. Aurora…I thought she was stronger than she was.”
I nodded, thinking again of the excited woman I met nearly six months ago. I remember the way she looked over her shoulder from time to time when we met at her country club and that one public restaurant. I thought at the time she was looking for the waiter. Now, I thought she might have been looking to see who was watching.
It couldn’t be all that great to be watched all the time.
I crossed my legs and looked out the window. I’d lived in L.A. almost all my life. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was nice to be back. All the familiar sights…even the canyons of Mulholland Drive were familiar thanks to my mom’s job. And, of course, I knew the gate of Nicolas’ house from the times I’d met with Aurora there. It would be odd, walking into that house knowing that Aurora would never come walking into the room, her long, silk skirts flowing out behind her, or that I would never hear the soft, breathless tone of her voice again.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like for
Death with a man I thought I could love.
How wrong had I been….
Chapter 9
We flew to L.A. on a private jet. Nicolas sat on the opposite side of the aisle from me, talking into his smartphone most of the flight. Like in the car, I stared out the window most of the time. It was funny…my first time on a plane and I was too depressed to enjoy it.
When we landed, Nicolas suddenly remembered I existed. He slipped into the chair beside me and leaned close to me.
“There will likely be paparazzi outside the airport gates and outside the gates of my house. They’ve been hounding me almost constantly since Aurora’s…well, since everything exploded. It would be great if you’d keep your head down and not encourage any sort of interaction.”
“What are you afraid I’d do? Tell them what a great guy you are?”
Nicolas just shook his head. “This is my reputation you’re playing with here, Ana. If you think I’m an asshole now, wait until you do something to hurt my career.”
I believed him. I just nodded, chewing on my lip so roughly that I tasted blood.
The flight attendant opened the cabin door. Nicolas stood and grabbed me under my upper arm, leading me to the door. I could hear the paparazzi before I saw them, their voices raised in question like a swarm of bumblebees swarming a hive. Another group of bodyguards were waiting beside another black SUV, this one a Ford Explorer. I climbed into the backseat as I heard one particularly loud paparazzi ask who I was.
“That your new girlfriend?” the voice asked. “You getting married again, Nicolas?”
Talking to him like they were buddies, sitting around a poker table. It was offensive, even to me, and I wasn’t really the target of their questions.
“Let’s go,” Nicolas barked to the bodyguard who climbed behind the wheel.
The moment we drove through the gates of the private airport, several cars pulled into traffic behind us, causing something of a commotion as they cut off two other cars that were already on the road. I looked behind us, outside the back windshield, and was shocked at the insane way a few of the paparazzi were hanging out the windows in order to get pictures of the car. They couldn’t even see Nicolas, yet they were willing to put their lives at risk.
“Turn around,” Nicolas said. “There’s no point in watching them. It only encourages them if they see you.”
I settled back down in my seat. Nicolas was next to me, reading something on his smartphone.
“Is it always like this?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this what it was like for Aurora?”
He glanced at me and I caught a glimpse of grief in his eyes. “It was.”
“You don’t think—?”
“Being constantly in the public life is difficult for everyone. Some handle it better than others. Aurora…I thought she was stronger than she was.”
I nodded, thinking again of the excited woman I met nearly six months ago. I remember the way she looked over her shoulder from time to time when we met at her country club and that one public restaurant. I thought at the time she was looking for the waiter. Now, I thought she might have been looking to see who was watching.
It couldn’t be all that great to be watched all the time.
I crossed my legs and looked out the window. I’d lived in L.A. almost all my life. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was nice to be back. All the familiar sights…even the canyons of Mulholland Drive were familiar thanks to my mom’s job. And, of course, I knew the gate of Nicolas’ house from the times I’d met with Aurora there. It would be odd, walking into that house knowing that Aurora would never come walking into the room, her long, silk skirts flowing out behind her, or that I would never hear the soft, breathless tone of her voice again.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like for
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