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“You might want to delete those gold digger pictures though. You are nothing like Anna Nichole Smith or Erin Nordegren,” he comments.
“Erin who?” I ask, not having a clue what he is talking about.
“The chick who fleeced Tiger Woods,” he replies with a chuckle.
“He deserved to be fleeced…” I reply, shooting him a dirty look. “He was a total slut!”
“I know, it was totally his fault. But she has gone through a few rich guys since him including a Billionaire who is twenty years older than her,” he says, holding up her Wikipedia profile.
“If anyone is a gold digger it’s Liv!” I fume. “If you weren’t hot and rich, she would have never given you a second look. How the hell did she know we were going to Monaco?” I ask a second time, while deleting the rest of the garbage she had posted.
“I may have mentioned it,” Trey admits sheepishly. “I didn’t want to leave New York without at least telling her.”
“That’s fine, but you didn’t have to give her all of the details!” I reply still fuming.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I thought she had moved on,” he reasons with a totally straight face.
“Really?” I interject. “It didn’t occur to you that she was trying to make you jealous? Why do you think she tagged you in those pictures of her and Tommy?” He really doesn’t understand women.
“So now can I assume that things are finished? Or do I need to do something more?” The look he gives me is priceless, like a fawn in the headlights, as my dad always says.
“I think it’s probably done now. All I’m going to do is unfriend her and block her ass, so she can’t tag me on any more crap,” I mention, thinking he might want to do the same.
“I even offered her my NetJet card in case she needed a flight back to California,” he explains, still shaking his head in disbelief.
“She obviously wanted you to come after her, not offer her a flight back home,” I try to explain once again, simply shaking my head.
“I get it now.” He shrugs his brows and appears to physically cringe at the thought of dealing with her again. “She’s one crazy girl.”
“She definitely has her moments.” His phone rings just as the cockpit door flings open. “I’ve got to take this.” He exits his seat and heads to the back of the plane.
I catch a glimpse of the screen, so I know it is Vanessa. I stand up and collect my things before walking to the front of the plane.
“The helicopter is waiting to take you to Monaco.” The captain points to a helipad a couple hundred feet away.
“Okay, Trey just got a phone call.” I glance over at my bags wondering if I should grab them.
“Just leave them, someone will be here momentarily to retrieve them,” he says with a smile. “You can relax in here or step outside for a little sunshine, whichever you prefer.”
“A little sunshine sounds like a good idea.” I can’t help recalling what it was like to help Liv off the plane in Geneva. I hope she gets some counseling or rehab or whatever she needs. The heat of the sun greets my face, along with the sweet smell of the ocean. I stand on the top step for a moment simply taking in the incredible view of the coastline. I’ve never seen a view like this from an airport runway.
“Are you ready to roll?” Trey asks, suddenly emerging from the plane.
“Everything okay with Vanessa?” I ask, giving him a knowing smirk.
“Apparently Liv posted some pictures on Tyler’s Facebook page too,” he scoffs. “I noticed that Tyler has left me a couple of voice mails too. I thought maybe he was upset about me taking Dad’s plane.”
“Liv tries to cause as much chaos as possible, doesn’t she?” I roll my eyes and turn toward the helipad.
“That’s Liv. I’m glad I’m out of there… and out of that.” He takes my hand and leads me to the waiting helicopter.
Just as we begin boarding, my phone starts to ring. It’s Dad. He has left a couple of messages, but I haven’t had a chance to listen to them yet. I better answer; it must be something urgent.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Amanda! Oh, I’m glad I finally caught you,” he gasps, instantly making me nervous.
“What’s wrong?” Thoughts of Mom instantly fill my head.
“Are you and Trey Addison actually dating?” he asks with an unmistakable urgency in his voice.
“Well… yeah. I guess so. Why?” I reply, a little disturbed by his persistence on the matter.
