I jolt awake, the ringing of the hotel phone by the bed sees me snatching up the handset before it wakes Ashlee. I don’t want her rest disturbed.
“What!” I hiss.
“Good morning, Cinderella. Did you find a fit for your shoe?”
It takes me a second to connect the dots, then I groan.
“Max! I’m so sorry,” I whisper, getting out of bed, I walk to the next room, not wanting to wake Ashlee.
“Quite alright, m’boy. I figured you’d make it to your second home there. I took the liberty of staying here last night, at your place. Billed by the hour at my overtime rate,” he adds matter of fact, reminding me of the importance of doing things right, sticking to your guns.
Max is a shrewd businessman as well as a potent attorney. If I have to hand over half my millions to get my own way with Ashlee, to get back at those photographers… that Stacy woman, so be it.
“I only called to see if you could have the car sent back. I have other clients y’know,” he drones, disinterested. I can hear his keyboard tapping and my coffee machine in the background. Max is multi-tasking every minute of every day.
“Sure,” I yawn. “I’ll have the hotel drop it back if you like?”
“Soon.” He adds before hanging up. I know he’s not mad, he would’ve called a lot sooner if he wanted his car, but Max never minces his words either. He’s far too busy.
Just as I hang up the phone, it rings again.
“Hi Max,” I chime, knowing it’s him.
“And don’t forget. You owe that secretary an autographed photo, Bridgette!” he reminds me, hanging up again without another word.
I have to smile, and I know old Max is too on the other end. How he even knew her name let alone remembered it…
That’s why I employ him. He’s the best at what he does.
If he played best buddy with me, our client-professional attorney relationship would never work, and he’d never get his fee.
Peeking in on Ashlee, I can see her turned away from me, but her body slowly rising and falling with the breath of deep sleep, which makes me smile.
Knowing she’s mine now, that we’re together… Nothing seems too much either and I almost look forward to doing the list of things I know I should do today, making up for everything I didn’t do yesterday.
But I’ve done the most important thing in my life so far, that’s all that matters.
Flipping open my laptop in the study nook of the suite by a window lit with morning light, I’m a little staggered by the hundreds of emails, and all since yesterday.
Almost all of them are veiled blackmail threats from trashy websites and magazine publishers, giving me twenty four hours to pay them to retract their photos, ‘or else.’
It takes a second, but I forward all of them to Max.
Evidence, and I know he’ll have his people follow up on every single one with a civil lawsuit.
It’ll cost a mint, but I mean business this time. I’m not rolling over for anyone when it comes to my Ashlee.
Before I forget, I pull a fresh nine by ten glossy portrait of myself from a drawer, and dutifully sign it to Bridgette.
I remember the days when studios would make me spend hours signing these things. Thank god those days are over.
Bridgette. you might be the lucky last.
Checking the cleaning agency’s address on my old fashioned Rolodex, I go to address an envelope, but there aren’t any, no stamps either.
I call reception and ask for some more stationary, stamps and the like. I could just leave it for them to post it, but knowing Max, he’ll be cross-examining me about how I sent the autograph.
He’s funny like that. A real stickler for detail.
Without meaning to, I’ve woken Ashlee but it’s the best start to my day to hear her coming out of our room, crossing the wooden floor and slinging herself over my shoulder.
Her hair down, touching my shoulder, I can feel her, warm from our bed still.
“Morning,” she coos, kissing my ear and I turn to give her a proper good morning kiss.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ashlee
Tony sets me on his lap, holding me and kissing me until I feel something familiar pulsing against me from underneath.
I have a robe on, so does he, but his manhood has a life of its own. Like a third wheel following us around already.
One I don’t mind at all. It’s the best feeling to wake up, knowing my man still wants me after the day and night he gave me before.
“Breakfast?” he asks, and I have to think for a moment before he reassures me.
“We can have it in bed,” he says, to which I heartily agree.
“I’ll order it up, but I have to make some coffee first,” he tells me. “I’m useless without it first thing.”
I kiss his cheek, jumping as he squeezes my ass.
“Almost useless,” he reassures me with a muffled laugh.
I let myself up, knowing he wants to get his coffee, but also sensing he wants to serve some for me too, wants to look after me and not let me do anything for myself while he spoils me some more.
Then I see it.
It’s a stunning glossy black and white of Tony, looks like it was taken a few years ago, but he hasn’t aged a day, just has some natural silver highlighting his hair now.
Bridgette.
‘For Bridgette… Love and affection, always… Tony’
I feel my heart clench, like iced water has been poured down my robe.
I want to tear the photo up, to run screaming at Tony, demanding he explain what all this is about.
But I take a deep breath instead.
He was sitting right in front of it with me, it’s his job. I remind myself.
A celebrity signing an autographed photo is no big deal.
I’ll have to deal with a lot more than this if I’m going to be his…
Be his what?
Is he really going to walk down red carpets with you? Show you off
