I sit at the table, worried and confused. He helped usher the paparazzi out and then never returned. Are the details of my past too much? Surely, he wouldn’t leave me here by myself. No. He wouldn’t. Would he? I don’t know what to think or how to feel at this particular moment, but embarrassment quickly takes center stage.
The room is empty save for me, but I’ll be forced to walk alone through the lobby bar where everyone saw me come in with Spencer. Now I’ll just look like one of his companions. Not special enough to come back for.
A familiar pang of disappointment falls over me. The desperate need to be numb is stifling. There’s a good reason why addicts continuously fall off the wagon. It’s not just temptation. It’s life. Sometimes it’s too much to handle.
I stand on wobbly legs, forcing myself to walk out of here. It would be worse to have someone come and escort me out. I hope he’s paid the bill because if not, I’m in trouble. I don’t have a dime to my name right now. I’m standing here in the lobby bar with a dress that he picked out and paid for and I’ve been left, discarded like trash. I feel like a prostitute more than ever.
I make my way to the front door, hoping to go unseen when I hear a voice behind me. “Excuse me, Miss? Were you with Mr. Lancaster?”
I slouch down, waiting to be utterly embarrassed. “Yes.”
“Mr. Lancaster had to leave.” She sneers down at me. “He paid the bill and said he’s sure you can find your way back to your room. You want to talk to the maître d’ because he’s arranged for transportation home for you to the States when you’re ready.”
I blanch at her words. Surely, she doesn’t mean he’s gone gone? I know we just started dating, but he wouldn’t just leave the country without talking to me.
I move lifelessly toward the villa, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and not get out. But I stop at the maître d’ first. “I was told that Spencer Lancaster has a message here for me.”
“Mr. Lancaster has arranged for you to stay here for as long as you’d like, and whenever you are ready, he’s asked me to arrange transportation with his family’s pilot to take you back to New York.”
I cringe.
“Is everything all right, Miss?”
No. “Yes,” I say solemnly.
“Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to you.”
I nod and walk back to the villa. The hurt is unbearable. Why did he just leave me? Wasn’t our time worth, at the very least, a conversation?
I can’t deal with any of it, so I throw myself into bed and sleep.
My phone chimes next to the bed and I almost ignore it, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Lindsey: Where are you? You fell off the face of the earth. I’m worried. Call me now.
I ignore it and five minutes later it chimes again.
Lindsey: I have resources to track you down, you know. And don’t think I won’t do it.
I groan. She’d love that, I’m sure. I pick up the phone, ready to give her a quick answer back when the phone starts ringing. I looked down to see it’s her. I answer.
“What do you want?”
“My God, you sound like death. Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not,” I say lifelessly.
“Where are you?”
“Barcelona.”
“Still?”
“What do you mean still?”
“Oh, honey, you know I keep up with my tabloid gossip. I saw you both on the front page of the Expositer. Are you still with Lancaster?”
“No, he left me here.”
The line stays silent for a minute. “What do you mean he left you there?”
“It’s a long story, Linds. I don’t feel like getting into it.”
She huffs. “Do you need me to get you out of there?”
I don’t want to ask for help, I really don’t, but I want to call and arrange to use his family plane even less. “Would you? I hate to ask, but I’m desperate.”
“Absolutely. I’ll take care of everything for you. Text me the address and I’ll send a car and book you a flight.”
The line goes dead, and true to her word, less than twenty-four hours later I’m back in London and in Lindsey’s suite.
When she sees me her jaw drops. “Oh my God, Liv?” She runs to me. “You look awful.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Tell me everything,” she commands.
I sit on the couch next to her and tell her all the sordid details. She holds me while I cry. This Lindsey is so different from the one I’ve partied with for years. She’s caring, gentle. An hour later she’s ushering me back to the bedroom, suggesting I lie back down. I stop her before she can push me through the bedroom threshold.
“I don’t want to lie around anymore. I can’t. I need to forget Spencer Lancaster ever happened,” I say.
“Okayyy, and how?” she says, lips pursed.
“Let’s go out and party.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Do you really think that’s a great idea, Livs? It’s not going to help you forget, and it might even make things worse.”
“Nothing could be worse. I just need a night to forget all of it.”
“I think it’s a bad idea, but if you’re sure, I can arrange it.”
“I am.”
Four hours later we’re dressed in the most provocative clothes we could find and headed back to Club X. When we get to the front of the line Lindsey turns to me.
“Olivia, promise you won’t get out of control.”
I raise a brow. “What the hell, Linds? You’re being such a party pooper.”
“I’m serious. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud of you. You aren’t like all of the others, and I don’t want you to go backward.”
“Stop. Let’s just have fun. Don’t worry about anything, please?”
Her smile is forced, and I can tell she doesn’t like my answer, but she shrugs her shoulders and follows me into the club.
Tonight I’ll forget all about Spencer Lancaster.