Third Degree (The Lust List: Devon Stone #3) Page 7

  Before he disrupts everything on a hanger, I grab his arm and pull him away. Dammit. So much for any hope of him changing during this time we’ve been apart. I can’t believe he came over here high. And that he wants me to do drugs with him? Has he completely lost it?

  As I pull him to the center of the room, far from any more of my belongings, he hits the edge of my mattress and falls into my bed. “Ooh. Like the way you think. Come here, beauty queen.” He pulls me down on top of him and kisses me hard on the mouth. My head swirls. Minutes ago I was fast asleep. Now I’m on Devon. If it weren’t for his current frame of mind, I could almost think this was the beginning of a fantastic dream. But the reality is, he’s high on fucking cocaine, and I have no idea what to do with him. What do I do about this?

  I savor the taste of his lips for a brief moment before pulling back. “How about you stay right there and get some rest. Sleep it off.”

  “I want to sleep you off.”

  What the hell does that even mean? He grabs for my hand, but I step back. He’s staring up at me, and as long as he’s keeping his mouth shut, I could easily stand here and stare back until the sun rises.

  “I know it’s you,” he says.

  He’s still not making any sense.

  I sigh and sit at the edge of the bed. “What?”

  “The phone calls. You’ve been trying to reach me.” He shifts toward the headboard of my bed, propping himself up. “Calling me. Just to hear my voice. All hours of the day and night.” His icy gaze meets my bewildered one. “You miss me,” he says.

  I do. I know I do. But it’s this version of him—this is what I can’t handle. But…I haven’t been calling him. Staring at my phone, considering it, yes. But not calling him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t—”

  “Your phone calls.” He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves his phone. “I’ll show you.”

  Call me confused. I watch as he swipes and scrolls. Then he holds his phone out. “See. My proof.”

  A row of unknown calls is sandwiched between two calls to Kaidan.

  “My calls would have my name, Devon.”

  “Not when you’re being all secretive. That’s why I…” Like he’s been distracted, his voice trails off and he stares toward the window. I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there.

  What the hell’s wrong with him? He’s talking nonsense. He looks pale and sickly. Should I be worried? Of course I am. But I don’t know what to do with this. Drug use? Maybe an overdose? I hold back the urge to scream.

  Maddie could help, but I’d feel like a jerk waking her. No, I’m an adult. I can deal with this. I have one idea. I snatch his phone out of his hand. “You stay here. Give me a second.”

  I take his phone out into the kitchen, and before I can lose my confidence, I call Kaidan.

  After a few rings and expecting his voice mail, I hear, “What the fuck do you want now, Devon?”

  “Um…I’m sorry. It’s actually Olivia. Uh—Olivia Margot, Devon’s—”

  “Yeah. I know who you are. What do you need?” He pauses. “And sorry for the way I answered.”

  I take a breath and tell him everything as fast as possible. “I don’t know what to do. I saw he talked to you recently, and since he’s your brother—”

  “Oh shit. Did he get himself killed?” He sucks in a breath.

  “No, no. He just—um—he showed up at my apartment. He’s really high or drunk…or both. I don’t know. It might be an emergency or…I don’t know what to do, Kaidan. Am I supposed to take him to the hospital or something?”

  I hear him expel a held breath and let out a relieved laugh. “No. Toss his ass on a couch, and he’ll sleep it off. Typical Devon is all. This is the sort of bullshit he pulled in high school and he’s right back at it…” A muffled noise implies he’s pulled the phone away. I hear his voice in the distance talking to someone else. Then he’s back in our conversation. “He’ll be fine, Olivia. It’s good you’re taking care of him.”

  “Right. Okay.” More relaxed, I thank him and hang up.

  Back in my room, Devon’s passed out sleeping in the middle of my bed.

  Oh Devon. We’ve got to figure this out.

  We.

  Would he be in this state if I’d been with him? If I’d forgiven him? If I want him, I have to accept all of him. That’s all there is to it.

  And I do want him.

  He’s not off the hook, but maybe…like me, he just can’t heal alone.

  I walk over and remove his shoes, placing them on the floor. I turn the lamp off and slip into bed next to him. One hand on his chest, his racing heart worries me. But he’s here. I can watch over him.

  He’ll be okay.

  It’s the morning of the gala, and Devon’s gone before I wake up. My half empty bed leaves me wondering whether he was there at all. I’m certain I hadn’t dreamt of him showing up high as a kite and acting like a fool. Plus my pillow smells like him. I close my eyes and breathe him in.

  I miss him. I’ll stay here a few more minutes until the scent of him fades away, but then I’m getting up and doing something with myself. It’s an important day. I should go to the gym…if my membership is still active. Or maybe get a massage. Or…

  “Olivia. You have guests,” Maddie calls from my closed door.

  I open my eyes to blinding sunlight. My arm’s draped across the pillow that smells like Devon—only now it doesn’t anymore. Guess it’s time to get up and start my day.

  I look at the time on my phone.

  Noon! Holy shit. I fell back to sleep for hours.

  I leap out of bed and rush to my door, throwing it open. “Hey,” I say to Maddie.

  “You have a…a crew here. Were you asleep?”

  A crew? I grab a pair of jeans hanging on the back of my desk chair and jump into them. Grabbing a random shirt from my closet, I toss it over my head, dressing myself as quickly as possible. I can’t believe I slept half the day away. And today of all days.

  “Can you stall them? Please?”

  I don’t even know who “them” is, but I need two minutes to make myself not look like a mess. I don’t wait for an answer from Maddie and instead, head to the bathroom where I brush my hair and my teeth. I clean my face and add some moisturizer.

  There, now I look a little more…awake.

  Noon. Damn.

  I walk out into the living room and stop short. My “crew” has taken over my entire living room, seemingly filling every inch of space.

  Calypso Day and that girl, Cheryl, from her studio, wait next to a tall trunk on wheels. Raul Xavier sits on the edge of our couch, hands in lap, looking pretty uncomfortable. And Natalia stands off to the side with someone I don’t recognize—must be Trish Martinez, the makeup artist she’d mentioned. Trish holds an oversized makeup case, so it’s obvious all my gala prep will be done right here, in the Margot-Lowell residence. I’m reminded of circus performers packed into a clown car. Our tiny living room barely holds everyone, and the stiff looks on some of their faces makes it clear they, too, were expecting more from the guest of honor.

  Maddie turns around from her spot on the love seat. “They’re all ready when you are. I think we can move the kitchen table to the side and have more room.”

  I look from one end of the apartment to the other. I’m such a fraud, and all these people now know it.

  After Maddie and I move furniture, we try to get some order figured out. Natalia dons her personal assistant role and begins listing the agenda and timeframe of each step.

  Dress.

  Hair.

  Nails.

  Makeup.

  And the catered food will arrive in two hours.

  All this? For me?

  “Go on, rock star. Get all done up.” Maddie pushes my shoulder while I stand here idly wondering when was the last time I dusted. Does the trash need to be taken out?

  We’ve never had this many people in the apartment and especially no
body with Hollywood high standards.

  Calypso gets things rolling by shoving her trunk across the living room and positioning it in the middle of the clear space we’ve made. Her assistant unlocks the giant box and pulls out a small round stool. Calypso—Caly—motions for me to come over. She hands me a small garment bag and tells me to go change into its contents.

  Before I retreat to my room, I turn toward our apartment guests. “You know, my best friend Maddie here is also attending the gala tonight. I’d appreciate it if you gave her the same formal treatment I’m getting.”

  After all, she’s just as “famous” as I am.

  In my room, I open the little garment bag to find a lacy white corset top and a sheer thong. These are extra hot, but how am I going to squeeze into this corset on my—

  A knock on my door, followed by it opening and Caly coming in. “Cute right? That’ll make your boobs look fab. And the underwear is to make sure you have no lines. It’ll just look like you’re naked under the gown.”

  Naked. Awesome. I fight the temptation to make a sarcastic comment. I know Caly worked hard on my dress. She knows better than I do what underwear is required for it.

  She helps me into the corset. It’s surprisingly comfortable in its formfitting magic. I change into the thong and try to ignore how exposed I feel.

  “Let’s see how the dress looks.”

  I don’t move. My apartment is packed with people and she wants me to walk out there like this?

  Caly puts a hand on her hip before spotting my fuzzy bathrobe. She throws it at me. “You know how many naked people we’ve all seen? It’s no big deal, especially not in fashion.”

  She turns and I follow her out feeling too much like a prude. Caly leads me to the short stool and motions for me to step onto it. Maddie sits in a chair with Raul behind her. He’s equipped with a curling wand and giving Maddie’s blond locks their own makeover. Trish stains Maddie’s lips a deep red and touches up the smoky eye shadow that makes her eyes stand out brilliantly.

  Caly’s looking at me grinning from ear to ear. “You ready for the big reveal?”

  Of course I am. Her mockup sketch had me drooling over the elegance and luxury of it. And she promised the final product would be even better.

  Cheryl pulls down a much larger garment bag and unzips it.

  “Wait!” Caly stops everything and rummages through one of her bags pulling out a silk scarf. “Let me blindfold you.”

  Um, okay. “Sure.”

  Her excitement fills the little empty space left in the room as she ties the fabric around my head, blocking out everything.

  Next thing I know, I feel the robe being removed. My cheeks warm and I’m certain they’re bright red. At least with the blindfold on, I can convince myself no one’s looking at my half-naked body.

  Fortunately, these girls work fast and I feel soft, heavy fabric slip over my head and hug my body. A few tugs and a zip later, all hands are off me. I hear Caly gasp.

  “Yes,” she says in an affirmative tone as if someone just asked a doctor if the surgery had been successful.

  “Damn girl,” I hear Cheryl say. “You’ve done it again.”

  Hello? I’m still blind here and now I’m dying to see what they’re seeing. Somebody reaches up and unties the scarf. It slides away right as Caly pulls the door of the trunk open wider. It’s lined with a full-length mirror, and the reflection I see is extraordinary.

  The one shoulder strap is embellished with lace and tiny Swarovski beads. A loop of icy blue fabric slips off my shoulder in a seductive way. It catches the eye and sends it looking down to the satin bodice that hugs my curves in the most flattering way. My god is it sexy, while still looking appropriate for the charity gala. The train adds a dramatic touch while a thigh-high slit makes sure the bottom of the gown is just as tantalizing as the top.

  And this was all made for me.

  I hold a hand to my mouth. “Caly. Thank you. You went way beyond what you needed to for me.”

  “It’s perfect for you,” she corrects me. “And since there aren’t any issues, your friend can wear your back up gown.”

  “You made me a second gown too?”

  “Not exactly. I always design a couple others out just in case Plan A doesn’t work out. I technically made you three. But since Number One is glamorous, the other two become back stock for others who need something.”

  What she’s saying is, she designed three gowns for me. And the extras could be worn by other celebrities. I can just picture an award-wining actress walking down the red carpet wearing a Calypso Day designed for Olivia Margot…Yes, this is getting way beyond weird.

  Caly continues, “So Maddie, you have your pick.” And with that she pulls out two more gowns. One is all white, lacy, elegant, and stunning. The other is a sexy red gown with practically no back to it. Maddie snatches the gorgeous crimson dress with a, “Ooh. Hell yeah,” and races to her room to change into it.

  I laugh and Natalia ushers me to my next spot. She’s pulled out a dining chair for me to sit, so I do as I’m told. These people aren’t my crew. They’re my fairy godparents dressing me up for a royal ball. It’s made more obvious by what they place on the table before me.

  Three boxes lined in black velvet display the biggest, most blindingly bright diamonds I’ve ever seen. I know I sound like an idiot, but I have to ask. “Are these real?”

  I get a couple raised eyebrows and no further response. Of course they are, O. Caly lifts a sparkling necklace from the box and fastens it around my neck. This thing is heavy! I check it out in a smaller mirror. Princess cut diamonds line my neckline and cascade down to my cleavage. I’m mesmerized by their ability to look delicate yet bold.

  While I sit there trying to calculate how much this one piece of jewelry must be worth, Caly sorts through the other two boxes—both containing a variety of earrings in all shapes and sizes.

  “You’re giving her an up-do right?” Caly asks without turning around.

  Raul responds from behind us, “Yes. A few tendrils will be loose, but her ears will be mostly visible.”

  “Let’s keep it simple then.” I’m not sure if she directs that at me or Raul. But she sifts through a few more styles before picking a pair of flawless studs. Then she cruelly takes all my jewelry from me and passes me off to Raul. “We don’t want him snagging something with a comb, now do we?”

  Raul gives a little “humph” before spreading out his supplies on the same table. Meanwhile, Maddie’s door opens, and out walks my beautiful roommate. She gives her best impression of a model on a runway, striking dramatic poses. “Please tell me there are some killer shoes to go with this.”

  Caly prances over, eager to complete another gala ensemble. “I’m going to have Olivia wear these lower heels, because something tells me she’ll be more comfortable with them.”

  “I’m right here, you know.”

  But the girls laugh at my lack of balance, and Calypso pulls out a pair of studded black stilettos. They look like a murder weapon—a fashionable, statement-making murder weapon. Maddie practically leaps into them.

  An hour later, I have my hair twisted in intricate spirals in the back of my head. It’s intentionally messy with the few tendrils he’d mentioned framing my face.

  “Ooh.” Caly looks at me for a long minute while Trish works on my makeup. Caly goes to her trunk and opens a few more boxes. She’s fit so much stuff in there, it’s like she played a game of Tetris to pack it.

  When she walks back to me, she holds a diamond-encrusted comb. It’s shaped like a large feather with strands of sparkling diamonds hanging from it at different lengths. She and Raul fumble with placing it in my hair. When it’s just right, they pull their hands back with a synchronized “aha”. Now my up-do is complete with even more sparkle.

  I’m grateful my makeup is done in a way that looks natural and subtle. Everything else is so over-the-top, I can barely recognize myself. They finish me off by replacing my jewelry and helping
me into my heels.

  Standing next to Maddie, we check each other out as our fashion crew evaluates their final products—smoothing stray hairs and brushing across our faces with powder. When they’re happy, the apartment settles into a peaceful quiet.

  “You two look like fire and ice,” Calypso remarks. “Stellar.”

  Silence. That’s the reaction I get when I open the door a couple hours later for Devon. Catering came and went. Maddie and I were carefully hand fed while a nail technician gave us manicures to complement the rest of our look. Soon after, everyone packed up and left. My cramped apartment expanded the instant it was vacated. We had enough time to breathe a sigh of relief before the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of my date.

  Now I stand in the open doorway looking at Devon looking at me. He takes in my hair, my jewelry, my gown—particularly the long sexy slit up the thigh—and it takes him a moment before he speaks.

  “And I thought I’d found myself the perfect simple girl.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that.” Is simple a good thing or bad here?

  He moves closer to me, and I step backward inside. “Any Hollywood starlet would look dull and ordinary next to you. There are no words for how beautiful you look.”

  I could stand here and let him continue showering me with compliments. Instead I clutch his flawlessly pressed white dress shirt in one fist and pull him closer to me, kissing him. Devon in a tux is gorgeous. Devon in a tux while lavishly praising me is irresistible. My lips collide with his, and his arms find the bare skin on my back. His palms pressed against me, his arms secured around me…I could stay here forever.

  But then I remember Maddie’s in the room. I pull away feeling rude. She stands off to the side staring into the kitchen.

  “Sorry,” I say and clear my throat. Back at Devon, I ask, “Where’d you go this morning?”

  From the corner of my eye, Maddie perks up. I forgot she wasn’t aware he was here last night—not that it was all that exciting.