Chapter 19

David

Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Ughh, fuck.” I hit my phone, throwing it to the ground. A pulsing ache strikes between my eyes, and I can smell the stale liquor wafting in the air.

“Oh, hell no.” I grab the covers and pull them over my head. I don’t want to deal with this right now.

I haven’t been this hungover in a while—or hungover at all actually, seeing as I haven’t been partying. Thanks to Vivienne.

I forgot how fucking wretched these things are. I do not miss this feeling…at all.

I hear the buzzing continue on the floor, and my annoyance gets the better of me.

“Leave me alone!” I scream at…my phone.

Wow, I’m pathetic.

I slowly drag myself up, pulling the covers off me, and retrieve my phone from the other side of the room.

I have twenty fucking notifications. From the last five minutes. That’s ridiculous, even for me.

I glance at the few text messages—an unknown but very naked woman, a few from Scott, and the rest from Charles. There’s even an email from Charles with URGENT as the subject line.

I roll my eyes, getting more annoyed.

Nope, don’t roll your eyes. That fucking hurts. I clutch my pounding head and run to the bathroom in search of all the aspirin in the kingdom.

Swallowing the pills, I slightly lament over the bullshit I know these messages will bring me.

I take a deep breath.

All right, let’s figure out why Charles is all riled up.

Did you see this? he writes, and I scroll further down to see a headline in one of the tabloids:

Debaucherous David back at it again, but this time with a soon-to-be Mrs. at home.

Oh, shit, this isn’t good.

Scenes from the night play in my head. But it’s like a game of charades—I see people moving yet I don’t understand what’s happening.

Oh…that blonde was there. Shit, I remember buying her a drink. Did I…fuck her? I look back at my bed for confirmation.

No, I didn’t! Thank fucking God.

Did I kiss her? No…I don’t think so. There was a lot of hugging, though. She really did have nice tits.

I shake my head. That’s not what’s important right now.

I run down to my office and start gathering more clues. The scenes become more vivid as I look over random photographs the tabloids have already printed.

Damn, it still amazes me how fast they are. They waste no fucking time when it comes to slandering me and my reputation.

Looking over them, I see one of Scott and me taking a shot, one of me pouring myself some whiskey, and—

Fuck.

There’s that girl. In my arms. Staring up at me like some damn teenager drooling over someone from One Direction.

Shit, I hope she’s not a teenager.

Ah, fuck, did Vivienne see this? Well, she must have; she’s my fucking employee who’s supposed to clean this mess up. But why hasn’t she already?

“Charles!” I scream. “Oww…fuck.” I punch the desk. The piercing pain has not eased up in the slightest.

“Yeah, David. What can I do for you?” he asks. “Oh, shit. You reek, man.” He waves his hands in front of his nose.

“Yeah…ugh. Whatever. Have you seen Vivienne around at all?”

“So, you did go out last night? And no, I haven’t. But she isn’t in her bedroom; the maids have already cleaned that.”

“And in her office? That’s where she is most of the time.” I point out the obvious.

“No, well, not since an hour ago when I walked past it.” He sighs. “What did you do last night, David?” he scolds me, folding his arms across his chest. “Why’d you fuck this up?”

He knows me too well.

“I’ll tell you later. I just need to talk to Vivienne about it first.”

“Well, it sounded like something went down last night. You two weren’t quiet.” He turns around, heading to the hallway, but then he stops and swivels his head back to me. “I’ll let you know as soon as I see her, though. But I’m afraid you might’ve really fucked up this time, David.” And then he leaves.

I sigh and run my hands over my face and through my hair. The pressure feels good.

I talked to her last night?

I lean back, twirling my phone in my hands, and I jolt forward when a memory pops in my head.

Did I accuse her…of loving me? I fucking said that to her?

No, no, no, no…I ended it. Last night, I fucking ended this…whatever this fucking thing is.

I spring up and pace towards her bedroom and then her office, hoping I’d find her so we can talk about last night. Maybe I can fix this? This is my one and only mishap, so it’ll be like a first free pass or some shit like that, right?

She’ll have to forgive me. She can’t be that ruthless.

She’s not in her bedroom, which looks eerily empty. Shit.

I knock on her office door and hear silence.

“Vivienne!” I scream, pounding on her door.

I take my phone out of my pocket and dial her number—no answer. I lean my back against her door and slide down to the floor.

This is bullshit. I’m her client—and I’m the fucking King. She should be answering my call.

Yeah…that’s right. She should be answering me, calling me, I repeat, trying to reassure myself. And fuck, isn’t a guy allowed one mistake?

Sure, this looks pretty shitty. And I probably ruined our arrangement, but…I’m sure it’s nothing she can’t fix. She’s the best in the business, right?

“Fuck!” I yell out in frustration.

No, you know what? If she doesn’t want to fix this, then fuck her. Annoyance and worry quickly boil over into anger, and my breathing becomes erratic.

Whatever. It’s better this way.

I get up and walk away from her office—from her.

This is what I needed to do. She was getting too involved, and things were getting too real. I mean, we were picking out fucking roses yesterday.

Who does that when it’s just a fake engagement? A fake wedding ceremony?

No one, that’s who. I shouldn’t have even let that happen.

And fuck it, what’s done is done. I fucked it up, and I did it well enough that she left…

At least she finally got to know the real me—a heartless, partying bad boy, who’ll never be a lovey-dovey motherfucker. Damn her for even thinking I could be changed into something different.

I pass Charles when I make my way back to my room, and he looks at me suspiciously.

“Hey, get this place ready,” I yell at him.

“For what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“For a soirée. I’m fucking celebrating. I’m a free man now. No Vivienne to hold me back.”

He nods, hesitantly.

That’s right, loves, Debaucherous David is back.