The Liar, The Bitch and the Wardrobe Read online

  “Hey, Presley! I’m so glad to see you!” I leaned down and air-kissed twice.

  “Are you here with Stefano?” Presley asked.

  “No . . . why, is he here?” My pulse must have stopped for those few seconds.

  “Not that I know of . . . I was just saying, since you’re always with him.”

  “Actually, Bella Blackstone hired me to shoot some stuff for her . . . so I don’t work for him anymore,” I proudly namedropped. Jessica Amore and Ashley Olsen listened to the exchange while they sipped their cocktails.

  Presley enthused, “That’s so sexy! Stefano is a fucking bitch and you deserve better. Come, sit.” The girls slid over to make room for me. I was shocked by Presley’s statement. She and Stefano had been friends for years and it didn’t seem right that she would say those things about him behind his back.

  I settled in between Jessica and Presley, extending my hand to Jessica. “Hi, I’m Lucy.”

  “Nice to meet you! I love your dress, it’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks! It’s one of Roberto’s.”

  The girls snickered as Ashley explained, “Everyone is wearing Roberto’s designs. It’s his party!” I blushed, feeling foolish. ”I’m Ashley. It’s nice to meet you. Are you from LA or New York?”

  “I’m not from LA, but I live there. We’re only in Paris for the party. Bella has to be back in London by tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m going to London in the morning too!” said Jessica while applying a sparkling Dior lip gloss to her voluptuous lips. “I have to cruise the West End with Jax before their sound check.”

  My heart sank when it was confirmed that Jessica was still dating my crush. Jessica pursed her lips together, offering Ashley the gloss.

  Ashley accepted and applied the gloss, asking, “So, Jess . . . are you seriously dating Jax Phoenix?”

  Jessica replied, “Oh gosh, no. We have the same manager and his band needs the extra publicity to push ticket sales . . . so I’m helping them out.”

  Ashley handed back the lip gloss. “That’s cool of you.”

  “Well, the guys are so nice. They’ve become like brothers to me.” Standing up, she straightened her cobalt blue corseted creation. “I’m going to say hi to Roberto. I doubt he’ll be able to make the rounds in this mob!” Ashley also stood up, sending dozens of charm bracelets crashing down her arms. “Me too. See you girls around.”

  Presley pounced on me, taking her black cat suit all too literally. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Shut up! You and Jax are both in London. And both single!”

  “So? Like he would even remember me. Plus, I don’t have his number.”

  “So? You go to his concert! He will totally remember you!”

  I cocked my head, shooting Presley a look that said, You’re not serious. She enthusiastically continued, “I saw the way you guys were at my house . . . worst case scenario, you check out a great concert!”

  Bella joined us, champagne in hand. “Isn’t this a great party?”

  “Hey Bell! Your girl has something to tell you about tomorrow night!” Presley schemed. I glared at her.

  “What? What is it?” Bella leaned in, waiting to be let in on the plan.

  I took a deep breath and smiled as I told Bella, “We have to go to the Phoenix Rising concert.”

  “Wooohoo!” Presley threw her arms up and picked up two glasses of champagne, handing one to me and keeping the other for herself. She raised her glass and further explained, “Let’s just say our girl here is about to make Phoenix rise!” Bella and Presley clinked their Clicquot to each others then both to mine. My cheeks blushed redder than the rosé we were toasting with.

  chapter twenty-three

  Phoenix Rises

  As promised, just before sunrise a plane returned me and Bella to London. Flying alongside the sun rising was a magical way to begin the day. Bella promoted the perfume at Harrods for the obligatory three hours while her publicist and I secured VIP arrangements for the concert. The perfume debut was madness and there was no time to discuss our photo plans with her management team. This was fine with me since I was still adjusting to the time change and lack of shut-eye. The day was over in a flash and, before we knew it, it was show time. Dressed to the nines, Bella and I hunted backstage like a couple of groupies. A security guard led us to the green room where we made our own cocktails before being escorted to the side of the stage. I hardly watched where I was going as I scanned the area for Jax. The arena was buzzing with a devoted crowd that quickly filled the floor and cascading balcony tiers. On our way to our seats, Bella took my hand and pulled me into an empty dressing room, locking the door behind us.

  “What are we doing?” I asked, anxious to find Jax. Bella unhooked her Alexander McQueen knuckle-box clutch and clicked open a small mirror, placing it on the vanity table. She unscrewed a vial and tapped out a sizeable amount of powder.

  “Relax! You can’t go to a concert sober, first rule of rock and roll.” Dipping her long acrylic pinky nail into the pile, she sniffed the powder into her left nostril. She then refilled her nail and held it under my nose. “You could use some snow support! This is going to be major!”

  I sniffed the coke from Bella’s nail. We each took another bump and then checked ourselves out in the mirror. Bella’s backless black Alaia halter dress revealed more than just the sides of her ribs, leaving little to even the most devious of imaginations. Her signature blonde hair loosely flowed down her bare back. She dabbed at her nose with a tissue and tucked it away in the top of her over-the-knee boots. I pulled my extra-long red curls over my shoulders, careful not to get them caught in the chain detail of the Sheri Bodell sheath dress Bella let me borrow. Earlier I had purchased a set of my very own ginger clip-in extensions. Balancing on the tips of my borrowed pumps, I leaned in for a closer look at my smoky eye makeup. I stepped back, taking a final gander. “I hardly recognize myself!”

  Bella smacked my bottom and added, “You look freaking hot. Lover boy is going to freak out!”

  “Yeah . . . if he even remembers me!” I truly didn’t see this going as planned.

  Bella cupped my breasts and pushed them all the way up. “Make him remember!”

  I laughed, swatting Bella’s hands away.

  We returned to the security guard patiently waiting outside the door. He mumbled into his headset and escorted us to the side of the stage, where a small area had been roped off just for us. The auditorium went pitch black and the crowd began to roar with excitement. Wide beams of light swirled around the audience and a machine wafted fog from the stage. Drums began to pulsate, commanding attention to the stage. A large circular platform lined with vanity bulbs was lowered from the ceiling, hovering above the stage floor like a UFO. Still dark, the only thing visible were the flashing bulbs around the perimeter of the raised podium. The drums continued playing wildly for a minute or so until, quieting down to a less frenetic pace, Jax Phoenix’s raspy voice echoed as he slowly sang the first line from his latest song. “Watch out . . .” The crowd went mad. “She’s having deep thoughts . . .” The bright lights blasted the stage into life just as Jax grabbed the mike from the stand, jumping forward to belt out, “Agaaain!” The band wailed to the popular hit as Bella and I danced and drank, rocking out with the band. I was entranced by Jax. He was incredibly talented and impossibly good looking. His aura was mysterious and seductive yet safe and approachable. I enjoyed the fact that I could stare at him intensely and he couldn’t see me standing there beyond the lights. The concert was the best I’d ever been to and this was by far the best concert seat I’d ever had. They closed the show by covering The Doors’ “People Are Strange,” which made me think of James. The last time that we spoke he was wearing a Doors T-shirt, and boy did he wear it well. Why was I still thinking of James? I wondered. Just let it go. You’re here now, I told myself.

  Once the band finished their two-hour set and the pyrotechnics closed the encore, the massiv
e crowd quickly filtered out through the exits. Bella and I were led back up the side of the stage. A few people waited there, hopeful for a photo with the group. Security guards pushed the fans aside and assisted us up the stairs. As we made our way back to the dressing room, my heart beat like a bongo in anticipation. I smoothed out my hair and moistened my lips just in case I saw him. Security swung open a door marked Private and we stepped inside. The band was pounding beer and kicking back. The musicians welcomed us inside. Paul Pardee, Mot Callahan and Jacob Story were jovial, still coming off their stage high. Like proper English gentlemen, they offered us their seats and each a beer. Several magazines, including Rolling Stone, Billboard and Spin, were laid out on the table. The band was featured on the cover of every one displayed. Mot sat down next to Bella, his giant boots kicked up and planted atop the magazines. Mot, the drummer, was the least proper member of the group. He was more famous for his rowdy bar antics than for his musical talents. Naturally, Bella and Mot immediately engaged in conversation.

  “Where did Phoenix head off to?” Jacob, the bass guitarist, shouted out from the bar area.

  “He went looking for that bloody ring . . . lost it during the second set.” The lead guitarist, Paul Pardee, downed his beer. “That damn thing falls off every time. I don’t see why he wears it when we perform.”

  Since Bella was busy, I left to explore the hallways, hoping to find Jax and catch his eye. I carefully stepped through a maze of ropes, tape and wire behind the stage.

  A large security guard flashed his small flashlight, making his way over. ”Hey, you can’t be back here. I’m going to need to see some credentials.”

  “Oh, sorry. I’m lost. I’m with Isabella Blackstone. We’re in the band’s room. Just looking for the restroom.”

  “Like I haven’t heard that story twenty different ways tonight.”

  “No, honestly. We were just back there . . . down the hall by the . . .”

  “By the restrooms.”

  “Um . . . well, okay. Yeah, but I was just . . .”

  “Lucy? Lucy from LA?” Jax effortlessly walked through the wires and put his hand on the bouncer’s back. “She’s cool, Dane.” The beefy man left us alone. Jax teased, “Let me guess . . . you are lost?”

  “Yes . . . I mean no, but . . .” I stammered for the words, attempting to conceal my blatant nervousness. “That was an amazing show, the best I’ve ever seen!”

  “Thank you! You look . . . stunning. I love this.” He touched the chains that decorated my dress. I tried to remain cool as I melted inside. The collared shirt he had on earlier was now completely unbuttoned and his skinny black tie lay casually over his neck. I mentally warned myself not to stare at his muscled chest. It had turned me into a jibberish-speaking fool last time. “Thanks.”

  We both leaned on the ropes and smiled into each other’s eyes like love-struck teenagers. I wondered if he was flirting with me or simply reacting to my flirting with him.

  “I wondered when I was going to see you again,” he said, touching my chin with the back of his hand. This was not happening! My body temperature rose as I fantasized about tearing his shirt off and kissing him passionately right there. Jax shifted gears. “I’ve lost my ring. It’s my lucky ring and I know it’s somewhere on the stage. Do you mind?” He held out his hand.

  “Not at all!” I took Jax’s hand and we made our way past the thick dark velvet curtains.

  I stepped on stage and was swept away. “This is . . . unreal.” The seats were dimly lit and seemed to go on forever. Less than an hour ago, a massive gathering was there. Now each step I took echoed in the vast, empty arena.

  “Mad, isn’t it?” Jax said as he scoured the floor for his ring.

  “Yeah, it is.” I began searching the stage, hunched over and kicking aside several water bottles in hopes of being the one to find the ring and save the day. A few guitar riffs ricochet off the concave walls. Jax walked toward me, his guitar strapped across his chest. I nervously tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled. Jax stood in front of me, improvising a melody. Feeling slightly awkward, I turned my back to him, continuing to search for his ring. Unexpectedly, Jax lifted the guitar over me and put it across my torso. I was strapped between the electric Gibson and Jax as he continued to play. I instinctively put my hands on his forearms as his hands continued to create entrancing sounds. He nuzzled his face into my neck. I boldly turned my body toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lowered the guitar and drew me even closer. Looking into each other’s eyes, our lips barely grazed. I could feel Jax breathing. He smelled so masculine. He put his hands in my hair. Suddenly, crashing noises banged from the audience as the janitors dragged large trash bins across the pit below. Jax removed the guitar and set it on the ground. He took my hand and led me off the stage. I leaned back against an amplifier as he wrapped the velvet curtain around us and lifted me onto the amp. I sat up straight on the giant box, bringing us to the same eye level. Jax wrapped my knees around his waist. Pressing one hand on the small of my back and the other on the side of my neck, he grasped my hair in a tight grip. I ran my hands through his thick hair. He pressed his lips to mine forcefully and then kissed my chin and neck. I feverishly ran my hands under his shirt, stroking his chest and back, and pulling him closer. I lifted my legs around Jax’s waist, gripping him with my knees. As we continued, I felt a sharp object jabbing my left knee. Turning my head to the side, my hand reached into his back left pocket. As Jax kissed my décolletage, I laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” I held up an engraved platinum band with an emerald stone. We both cracked up as I slid the ring onto his finger. “What are you, a magician of some sort?”

  “I prefer the term illusionist.” I smoothed out the front of his shirt with my hands. Jax stepped back, placing his hands on each side of me. With his help, I hopped off the amplifier. We made our way through the ropes and wires returning to the dressing room. Jax opened the door and we found Bella straddling Mot on the couch in what was basically a simulation of sex. Jax cleared his throat and I covered my mouth with my hand. Bella and Mot didn’t pay us any mind.

  “Dinner?” Jax suggested.

  “Drinks!” Mot and Bella shouted in unison. Jax and I looked at each other and shrugged. Bella stumbled away from the couch and hooked her arm with mine. “Powder room.”

  Mot took a drag from his cigarette, and in his husky Irish accent, shouted, “Don’t forget the powder . . .” He tossed Bella her compact of coke.

  “Right! Thanks!”

  What could she possibly see in that guy? I wondered. She could have any man in the world and . . . him? He was so sweaty and burly and kind of gross.

  In the restroom, Bella crafted her pinky nail special. “So, tell me everything!” She sniffed, digging into the pile for another round before putting her nail in my face.

  I sniffed. “Well, I really like him! We made out and it was amazing!”

  “Nice! Are you going to fuck him? We should all go back to our suite and party. You should definitely fuck him.” I looked at Bella, shocked by her crudeness.

  “I was kind of hoping we could take things slower . . . like, not hook up right away. This is the second time we’ve met!” Bella rubbed her upper gums with her pinky then rested her hand on my shoulder.

  “Take things slow? Does this look like a high school locker room to you? Lucy, he’s a freaking rock star. Dating doesn’t exist in his world. Hell, it barely exists in ours.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what “our” world was. I thought that I was along for the ride in her world if only for a few days. “I think he’s different. Besides, I don’t want to sleep with him because he’s famous. I really like him!”

  “Of course you want to sleep with him because he’s famous. Get real. It’s okay to screw people for sport! Who am I to judge?” I eyed my friend skeptically as she went on. “Don’t get your hopes up, is all. I’ve been in this business a long time and I have yet to meet one man any different fr
om another. They’re all the same.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the heads up.” I forgot to consider how jaded Bella must be when it came to men.

  Taking the lead, Bella darted back down the corridor. “I’m going to fuck Mot.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  chapter twenty-four

  A New Method

  “What happened last night?” Bella groaned. Both my and Bella’s lifeless bodies lay sprawled out beside each other in the aisle of the private plane.

  “We went back to the hotel and partied all night,” I reminded her.

  “I remember that, silly. I’m talking about you and Jax!”

  “Oh! We totally connected. He is something else . . .” I basked in the glow of my crush. “He was so sweet, didn’t even try anything cheeky. I mean, we made out, of course. But that was it.”

  Bella snorted. ”He probably can’t get it up on blow!”

  “No, I’m telling you. He is different. What about Mot? How did that go?”

  “How do you think it went? I could barely hike the stairs of the plane.”

  I covered my face with my hands. “Why did I even ask?”

  “He did leave me a parting gift.” Bella pulled a tiny bag full of small crystals from her bra.

  “Blow?” I could hardly look at the bag without getting queasy. I had had enough.

  “No . . . glass!” Bella tossed the baggie into her purse.

  I sat up, my head pounding. “Glass? You mean crystal meth? Bella, you’ve got to get rid of that. Do you have any idea what that is?”