Page 61 of False Promises

Before I could process anything, I was thrown on my back on the bed. Yeah, Carter Hills couldn’t resist me. And my selfless heart. It was about time he realized it too.

* * *

Dahlia and Jack flew in the next Friday. Nick, Dahlia’s husband, had stayed back in Green Mountain. It was a relief when Carter told me he wouldn’t come. One less person to worry about. And I really wanted to observe Carter and his best friend’s dynamics without any distractions. In a perfect world, the kid would have stayed behind too. But hey, I couldn’t lose my mind over this, or I might be the one having to live at the hotel.

Carter held my hand in his as we waited for his family, as he called them, to walk off the airport. It made no sense to me he considered them his, but I was done trying to convince him otherwise. Sporting sunglasses and a baseball cap, so that he was not recognized and bothered, Carter stood tall. He kept checking the time on his phone and wiping the other hand on his pantleg.

Why was he so nervous? Was it the idea of having both women in his life living under the same roof or something else?

I turned my head toward him. “You okay?” His gaze swept over my silhouette, and I high-fived myself mentally for choosing this outfit today of all days. I was wearing a plunging red number with stilettos that showcased all my curves perfectly. My makeup was applied with dedication, and my lips were the perfect shade of red. Los Angeles was my city. And I ruled it. Dahlia had to understand she was the intruder here and therefore had to bend to my presence. In a manner of speaking anyway.

Carter shook his head. “Sure. They’re late.”

“Their plane landed with a fifteen-minute delay. They’re not the president. No need to get sweaty over this. Sweat isn’t a good scent on you. Man up and stop fidgeting.”

Carter’s eyebrows creased, but before he could reply, a whoop followed by ear-screeching “Carrrrter” pierced the air.

I jumped back.

The little creature with a tousled mane and gray irises running toward us was the spitting image of the man standing on my left. I blinked, taking every inch of this small person in.

A wave of dizziness washed through me, and I did my best to school my features and fix an upward curl to my lips as a gorgeous—see, I could be honest about it—woman with red hair, piercing green eyes, and a warm smile closed in on us. In the last year, I had convinced myself Dahlia Ellis looked great in pictures just because she was photogenic, nothing else. But I was wrong. An aura of kindness and joy radiated from her. For a second, I forgot we were sworn enemies and found myself enchanted by the woman standing in front of me.

Before I could stretch an arm, she pulled me into a warm hug. “Ohmygod, I’m so glad to meet you. It was about time.” She moved to Carter next who was holding Jack and hugged him. “Cart, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe we’re spending three days together in Los Angeles.”

Carter hugged her back for infinite seconds. Long enough that it sank my stomach. I saw how he looked at her when she appeared in our sight. I would never measure up to Dahlia Ellis unless I upped my game. This was a truth I could no longer refute.

With Jack, still in his arms, telling him all about his flight and Dahlia’s palm snuggled in his, we exited the airport. I traipsed behind them, and for the first time in years, not feeling like the queen I knew I was but completely rejected. And on the outskirts of the part of the world that didn’t include me.

Ed, the bodyguard on duty, waited for us and piled our guests’ luggage in the trunk after we neared the car.

Carter and Jack joked around, seated on the third-row seats—I couldn’t comprehend how my tall boyfriend could fold his legs in the tiny and uncomfortable space back there—while Dahlia and I sat beside each other on the second-row seats.

“This is very generous of you two to have us over,” Dahlia said, her smile unfaltering. One I tried to mimic so she couldn’t tell her presence already irked me. “Jack was so excited when I announced we’ll be flying here. We really miss having Carter around.” It wasn’t a jab at me. She was just stating a fact.

“Carter is happier here,” I said, unable to resist. “I can’t deny we’re awesome together.”

Dahlia’s smile doubled in size. “Well, I’m happy we’re doing this. I’m sure you and I will become great friends.”

I blinked, doing my best to not scowl. Was Dahlia for real? How on earth could she believe she and I would ever become friends? First, except for Carter, we had nothing in common. Second, couldn’t she tell we were nothing alike? She might be nice, but come on, she must have saggy tits and a loose belly from bearing a child. Third, and most importantly, she had walked away from fame. By choice. No sane person would do that. Ever. This simple fact led me to believe there was something wrong with her. I, on the other hand, was at the top of my game. Beautiful, a body flirting with perfection, and a thirst for success and recognition hard to equal.

Infusing myself with some cheer, I pumped my fist. “Yay, can’t wait for us to become besties.”

For the rest of the ride, she made conversation. Snooze fest. I was right all along. This woman and I had nothing—with a capital N—in common.

Once we got home, after Carter confirmed he had made a reservation for us in a family restaurant, I pretended to have a headache coming on and locked myself in the bedroom. Family restaurant? This was worse than the first date when he invited me to an outdated Italian eatery that I couldn’t wait to escape seconds after I opened the door. Just the overpowerful smell of roasted garlic and the color of the carpet were enough to send me running. What happened to dinner in an upscale restaurant with sumptuous seafood or filet mignon platters I could never afford? Why was Carter letting a spoiled brat dictate our dinner options? Nausea rose in my throat. This was worse than any scenario I imagined when I voiced the invitation.

With my fingertips, I massaged my temples, the headache about to become real.

Through the door, I could hear muffled laughter. And Carter being happier than I’d ever seen him. I heard the padding of little feet and cries of joy. Followed by the groans of an adult male and more chuckles. Ugh. Children disgusted me.

They not only destroyed a woman’s body, but also were smelly and dirty little things of no use.

After a while, the apartment fell silent, and I relished the calm. It was more comforting than any noise.

A soft knock brought me out of my reverie.

“Yes,” I called out, exiting my dressing room after I changed into a white wrap dress with a plunging neck. “It’s open.”