Text Appeal
Page 22
In other words, he’d done everything he could to avoid talking to Charlie while still being able to swear he “tried.” “Just one question, Rick.”
“What’s that?” Rick sounded bored with the conversation already.
“Little Jimmi wouldn’t happen to be a new client of yours, would he?”
“Charlie, that has nothing to do with this.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Charlie ended the call before slinking down to the nearest available bench. People buzzed by him, strolling down the sidewalk to see the next Vegas sight. Maybe that couple was going to Cirque du Soleil, another heading to the blackjack tables. Every one of them walked with purpose. They knew who they were and where they were going.
He didn’t realize Riley had come out to find him until her fingers brushed his arm. “Is everything okay?”
Charlie blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Did Tony show?”
Riley frowned and shook her head, her green eyes filling with pity. “I’m sorry.”
Maybe it was better this way. Better to end his relationship with his son before it started, better not to form a bond and have one more person watch as Charlie spiraled into a nobody.
“Ashton said you’d find another sponsor,” Riley said, squeezing his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
Ashton didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Charlie had done his best not to let anyone know just what a persona non-grata he’d been to the sponsors. “I’m sorry about those pictures,” he said, placing his hand on top of hers. He swallowed hard, a fist of emotion blocking his throat. “I thought a couple pictures of us together would save my career. Looks like I was wrong.”
She pulled her hand away and straightened. “What?”
Charlie lifted his gaze. Riley’s face was etched with hurt. She sat stone still. “You told them to take pictures?”
Something rabid gnawed at his gut, and again he tried to swallow around that fist. “I thought it could help us both. Chaz was bad for you and I needed some press.” He reached for her hand. “It was stupid and it didn’t help anything.”
Riley yanked her hand away. “You’re right. It was stupid.”
“Riley—”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. Don’t.” Then she turned on her heel and walked away.
***
Riley stormed up the stairs to her apartment. She’d taken a cab home, anxious to get away from Charlie. Their first kiss, the one that had changed her whole life, had been nothing but a publicity stunt. Something good for the cameras. The knowledge ground at her heart, rubbed across it with the finesse of a cheese grater.
She turned her key in the lock and pushed through the door. She froze at the male silhouette on her couch. Forcing herself to move, she hit the lights fast. “Chaz, you scared the crap out of me.”
Chaz stood, smoothing his pants. “I didn’t mean to, but we need to talk.”
She placed a hand to her pounding heart. “You can’t just come into my apartment uninvited anymore.” She crossed to him and extended a hand, palm up. “Give me the key back.”
Chaz frowned. “You’re still upset about what you walked in on the other night, aren’t you?”
Riley dropped her hand and took a step back. She didn’t want to be this close to him. She was sick of Chaz, and now Charlie had betrayed her too. Catholic nuns were on to something, and it wasn’t fashion. “You’re nothing to me anymore, Chaz,” she said the words softly so he might understand she spoke truth, not melodrama.
Chaz gave her a tentative smile. “I know I screwed up royally, but don’t throw this away. You’re too mature to—”
“Don’t tell me what I am.” She wrapped her arms around herself. She was done being screwed over by the men she loved. She looked into Chaz’s eyes—eyes she used to think were so warm. She couldn’t see that warmth anymore. She’d been wrong about him. Had she been wrong about Charlie too? “Our relationship is over. I want that to be clear. Don’t hold out for me.”
“Just give it some time, Riley. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I know I made a mistake, and if that means I have to wait another two years before you are ready to forgive me so we can move on to the next stage of our life—”
Riley clenched her fists and fought the urge to cover her ears. “Enough. Why are you pretending you want me when you only want my money?”
His jaw hardened. “Have you been talking to Charlie?” he asked. “Is he putting ideas in your head?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m just finally wising up.”
He tried to smile but it didn’t reach the hard edge to his stare.
“I’m not your puppet anymore. I will not be used for you to grow your savings account.”
“You’re being stupid.”
“Get out, Chaz.”
“What?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Please. Leave.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Riley. We could be good together. Think about your father’s company! He offered it to me, Riley. If I marry you. We could run it together—”
“Never,” she said, knowing now what she’d suspected for two years and never let herself believe. Chaz had never been in love with her. He’d been in love with her father’s money.
Chaz pushed to his feet, disgust evident on his face. “This is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”
Riley nodded to a box she’d placed by the door. “I put your stuff in there.” She waved toward the DVD tower by the television. “I think some of your movies are in there too. Take what’s yours and let yourself out.”
She turned on her heel and retreated to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-One
“What the hell do you want?” Charlie scowled at his ex-agent. The man had balls of steel, showing his face to Charlie before seven a.m., let alone so soon after screwing him over. The man’s persistent phone calls to let him up to the limited-access suite had dragged Charlie out of bed. Charlie was un-caffeinated, unrested, and last he checked there was a gaping hole in his chest where his f**king heart used to be.
Under the circumstances, the guy was lucky he still had all his teeth.
Rick pushed through the door and into Charlie’s suite, a big-ass smile on his face. “Have you seen the news yet?” He rubbed his hands together. “This was brilliant, man. If I’d known you had this up your sleeve, I wouldn’t have broken off our relationship.”
Charlie groaned, following him to the TV. Rick grabbed the remote, and Charlie said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Rick let out a long, hard stream of air and clicked on the television, flipping to a local news station.
“And Nevada unemployment rates dropped by a tenth of a percent this quarter,” the newscaster said with a nauseating amount of perk.
Charlie looked to Rick who said, “Just…wait.”
Charlie pulled a hand over his eyes. Hell, he was damned if he was going to wait without coffee. He padded over to the suite’s kitchenette and put the pot under the tap. He could kick Rick’s traitorous ass post-caffeine.
The male newscaster said, “What does a hotel heir apparent known as Vegas’ Good Daughter have in common with a professional poker player known as the Devil? Apparently, a wild streak and access to this penthouse-level elevator.”
Charlie dropped the coffee pot. As he swung around, he heard it shatter in the sink. “What the fuck?”
“It’s beautiful,” Rick said.
The male newscaster continued, “The Grand Escape Resort and Casino’s Annual National Poker Tournament begins tomorrow, bringing with it the best professional players in the country, among them Charlie ‘the Devil’ Singleton.”
His female counterpart nodded. “Apparently ‘the Devil’ can tempt even the best behaved girls, or so it appears from security tapes anonymously released this morning that feature the couple in a compromising position in the resort’s public elevator.”
“Jesus,” Charlie muttered.
“The tapes are too graphic for our wide audience at WRBC, but you can—”
Before she could finish, Charlie snatched the remote from Rick’s hands and clicked through the channels. He knew what station wasn’t above sharing the alleged tapes. Sure enough, when the dial landed on G! TV, he saw a still shot in the corner of the screen. The network must have taken this shot from the end of their time in the elevator. The picture showed Riley pressed against the elevator wall, her legs wrapped around his waist right above where they’d blurred out his bare ass.
“Riley Carter, daughter of the shrewd Vegas businessman and hotelier Quinton Carter, has been in a serious relationship with Daddy’s right-hand man for a couple years now, and was reported to be engaged to her longtime beau, begging the question: Does her man know Vegas’ Good Daughter has been consorting with ‘the Devil’?”
Charlie clenched a fist. “Jesus, would they get off that already?”
Rick blew out a breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It makes for good news.”
“Our investigators are getting reports this morning confirming that the poker player is in the middle of a paternity suit with his high school sweetheart.”
“Who isn’t this guy sleeping with?” her co-host asked.
“Since Papa Bear Carter is sure to disapprove of her relationship with someone of Singleton’s reputation, that seems to be the multi-million dollar question.”
Charlie’s stomach clenched. They were making this about Riley. Jesus, he’d been an idiot to be with her in such a public place. “How the hell did they get that tape?”
Rick grinned. “So that’s how you’re going to play this, huh? Act like you knew nothing about it?”
Charlie scowled. He needed to know so he could find the as**ole responsible and castrate him. “How much is out there?”
“The whole elevator ride through the moment you step out the doors. Charlie, it’s on TV, in the papers, and, for folks who prefer the uncensored version, all over the internet.”
“Fuck.”
Rick twirled a cigarette between his fingers. “The tape of you and Hollywood It Girl five years ago gave your career a kick in the ass. But that was nothing compared to this. This is huge. This is—”
Rick stopped speaking as Charlie slammed him against the wall.
***
Riley didn’t believe in conversation before coffee, let alone G! TV. The downside of having a roommate was that sometimes these decisions were out of her hands. Lacey’s guilty pleasure was celebrity gossip, and sometimes that meant waking up to news of a Paris Hilton scandal or the latest measurement of J Lo’s hips.
Riley groaned but slouched toward the kitchen to pour herself a cup of get-up-and-go. “I don’t care who Jennifer Aniston is in love with today. It’s way too early for television.” Coffee would be her life force this morning. As she’d lain in bed, she’d contemplated rolling over and going back to sleep. She would have called in to work, but her aching heart had refused to let her mind rest, so it would have been a waste of a personal day.
Riley took another gulp of coffee and narrowed her eyes at Lacey, who was glued to the TV and still hadn’t responded. “Lace? Are you awake?”
When Lacey looked over her shoulder, she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow wrinkled. What did Charlie call that? A tell?
“Riley, I’m so sorry.”
Riley frowned. Did Lacey know about her fight with Charlie? “About what?”
“You and Charlie,” Lacey said. “It’s plastered all over the news.”
“Those pictures are old news. So I went on a couple dates with Charlie Singleton. Who cares?” Riley waved a hand dismissively even as a dull ache gnawed at her chest. He’d set up those pictures. He’d used her.
Lacey pushed herself off the couch and gaped at Riley. “You knew?”
“Well, sure, I—” A flash of something on the television grabbed Riley’s attention. What was she watching?
“Oh, my God.” Riley’s chest collapsed, too small for her pounding heart. Her throat constricted, too small to take in the air she needed.
In a blink, Lacey was off the couch and at Riley’s side, taking the coffee from her hand and lowering her into a kitchen chair.
“What—? Is that—?” She couldn’t breathe.
“Shh.” Lacey pressed a hand against her back. “Put your head between your legs.”
Riley did as instructed, her mind spinning. It just didn’t make sense.
How did the paparazzi get that tape of her and Charlie in the elevator if Charlie was the only one who had a copy?
***
When Charlie arrived at Riley’s apartment, Lacey met him at the door, her face a study of worry. Over her shoulder, he could see Riley curled up on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes glued to the television.
“Has she been like this all morning?” Charlie asked.
Lacey frowned. “Pretty much. I keep trying to turn off the TV, but she just turns it back on.” She sighed and eyed her friend. “I’m late for work, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
Charlie squeezed her arm. “Get out of here. I’ll take care of her.”
Lacey grabbed her purse. “Thanks. See if you can get her to talk. I’m worried.”
“What’s that?” Rick sounded bored with the conversation already.
“Little Jimmi wouldn’t happen to be a new client of yours, would he?”
“Charlie, that has nothing to do with this.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Charlie ended the call before slinking down to the nearest available bench. People buzzed by him, strolling down the sidewalk to see the next Vegas sight. Maybe that couple was going to Cirque du Soleil, another heading to the blackjack tables. Every one of them walked with purpose. They knew who they were and where they were going.
He didn’t realize Riley had come out to find him until her fingers brushed his arm. “Is everything okay?”
Charlie blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Did Tony show?”
Riley frowned and shook her head, her green eyes filling with pity. “I’m sorry.”
Maybe it was better this way. Better to end his relationship with his son before it started, better not to form a bond and have one more person watch as Charlie spiraled into a nobody.
“Ashton said you’d find another sponsor,” Riley said, squeezing his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
Ashton didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Charlie had done his best not to let anyone know just what a persona non-grata he’d been to the sponsors. “I’m sorry about those pictures,” he said, placing his hand on top of hers. He swallowed hard, a fist of emotion blocking his throat. “I thought a couple pictures of us together would save my career. Looks like I was wrong.”
She pulled her hand away and straightened. “What?”
Charlie lifted his gaze. Riley’s face was etched with hurt. She sat stone still. “You told them to take pictures?”
Something rabid gnawed at his gut, and again he tried to swallow around that fist. “I thought it could help us both. Chaz was bad for you and I needed some press.” He reached for her hand. “It was stupid and it didn’t help anything.”
Riley yanked her hand away. “You’re right. It was stupid.”
“Riley—”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. Don’t.” Then she turned on her heel and walked away.
***
Riley stormed up the stairs to her apartment. She’d taken a cab home, anxious to get away from Charlie. Their first kiss, the one that had changed her whole life, had been nothing but a publicity stunt. Something good for the cameras. The knowledge ground at her heart, rubbed across it with the finesse of a cheese grater.
She turned her key in the lock and pushed through the door. She froze at the male silhouette on her couch. Forcing herself to move, she hit the lights fast. “Chaz, you scared the crap out of me.”
Chaz stood, smoothing his pants. “I didn’t mean to, but we need to talk.”
She placed a hand to her pounding heart. “You can’t just come into my apartment uninvited anymore.” She crossed to him and extended a hand, palm up. “Give me the key back.”
Chaz frowned. “You’re still upset about what you walked in on the other night, aren’t you?”
Riley dropped her hand and took a step back. She didn’t want to be this close to him. She was sick of Chaz, and now Charlie had betrayed her too. Catholic nuns were on to something, and it wasn’t fashion. “You’re nothing to me anymore, Chaz,” she said the words softly so he might understand she spoke truth, not melodrama.
Chaz gave her a tentative smile. “I know I screwed up royally, but don’t throw this away. You’re too mature to—”
“Don’t tell me what I am.” She wrapped her arms around herself. She was done being screwed over by the men she loved. She looked into Chaz’s eyes—eyes she used to think were so warm. She couldn’t see that warmth anymore. She’d been wrong about him. Had she been wrong about Charlie too? “Our relationship is over. I want that to be clear. Don’t hold out for me.”
“Just give it some time, Riley. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I know I made a mistake, and if that means I have to wait another two years before you are ready to forgive me so we can move on to the next stage of our life—”
Riley clenched her fists and fought the urge to cover her ears. “Enough. Why are you pretending you want me when you only want my money?”
His jaw hardened. “Have you been talking to Charlie?” he asked. “Is he putting ideas in your head?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m just finally wising up.”
He tried to smile but it didn’t reach the hard edge to his stare.
“I’m not your puppet anymore. I will not be used for you to grow your savings account.”
“You’re being stupid.”
“Get out, Chaz.”
“What?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Please. Leave.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Riley. We could be good together. Think about your father’s company! He offered it to me, Riley. If I marry you. We could run it together—”
“Never,” she said, knowing now what she’d suspected for two years and never let herself believe. Chaz had never been in love with her. He’d been in love with her father’s money.
Chaz pushed to his feet, disgust evident on his face. “This is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”
Riley nodded to a box she’d placed by the door. “I put your stuff in there.” She waved toward the DVD tower by the television. “I think some of your movies are in there too. Take what’s yours and let yourself out.”
She turned on her heel and retreated to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-One
“What the hell do you want?” Charlie scowled at his ex-agent. The man had balls of steel, showing his face to Charlie before seven a.m., let alone so soon after screwing him over. The man’s persistent phone calls to let him up to the limited-access suite had dragged Charlie out of bed. Charlie was un-caffeinated, unrested, and last he checked there was a gaping hole in his chest where his f**king heart used to be.
Under the circumstances, the guy was lucky he still had all his teeth.
Rick pushed through the door and into Charlie’s suite, a big-ass smile on his face. “Have you seen the news yet?” He rubbed his hands together. “This was brilliant, man. If I’d known you had this up your sleeve, I wouldn’t have broken off our relationship.”
Charlie groaned, following him to the TV. Rick grabbed the remote, and Charlie said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Rick let out a long, hard stream of air and clicked on the television, flipping to a local news station.
“And Nevada unemployment rates dropped by a tenth of a percent this quarter,” the newscaster said with a nauseating amount of perk.
Charlie looked to Rick who said, “Just…wait.”
Charlie pulled a hand over his eyes. Hell, he was damned if he was going to wait without coffee. He padded over to the suite’s kitchenette and put the pot under the tap. He could kick Rick’s traitorous ass post-caffeine.
The male newscaster said, “What does a hotel heir apparent known as Vegas’ Good Daughter have in common with a professional poker player known as the Devil? Apparently, a wild streak and access to this penthouse-level elevator.”
Charlie dropped the coffee pot. As he swung around, he heard it shatter in the sink. “What the fuck?”
“It’s beautiful,” Rick said.
The male newscaster continued, “The Grand Escape Resort and Casino’s Annual National Poker Tournament begins tomorrow, bringing with it the best professional players in the country, among them Charlie ‘the Devil’ Singleton.”
His female counterpart nodded. “Apparently ‘the Devil’ can tempt even the best behaved girls, or so it appears from security tapes anonymously released this morning that feature the couple in a compromising position in the resort’s public elevator.”
“Jesus,” Charlie muttered.
“The tapes are too graphic for our wide audience at WRBC, but you can—”
Before she could finish, Charlie snatched the remote from Rick’s hands and clicked through the channels. He knew what station wasn’t above sharing the alleged tapes. Sure enough, when the dial landed on G! TV, he saw a still shot in the corner of the screen. The network must have taken this shot from the end of their time in the elevator. The picture showed Riley pressed against the elevator wall, her legs wrapped around his waist right above where they’d blurred out his bare ass.
“Riley Carter, daughter of the shrewd Vegas businessman and hotelier Quinton Carter, has been in a serious relationship with Daddy’s right-hand man for a couple years now, and was reported to be engaged to her longtime beau, begging the question: Does her man know Vegas’ Good Daughter has been consorting with ‘the Devil’?”
Charlie clenched a fist. “Jesus, would they get off that already?”
Rick blew out a breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It makes for good news.”
“Our investigators are getting reports this morning confirming that the poker player is in the middle of a paternity suit with his high school sweetheart.”
“Who isn’t this guy sleeping with?” her co-host asked.
“Since Papa Bear Carter is sure to disapprove of her relationship with someone of Singleton’s reputation, that seems to be the multi-million dollar question.”
Charlie’s stomach clenched. They were making this about Riley. Jesus, he’d been an idiot to be with her in such a public place. “How the hell did they get that tape?”
Rick grinned. “So that’s how you’re going to play this, huh? Act like you knew nothing about it?”
Charlie scowled. He needed to know so he could find the as**ole responsible and castrate him. “How much is out there?”
“The whole elevator ride through the moment you step out the doors. Charlie, it’s on TV, in the papers, and, for folks who prefer the uncensored version, all over the internet.”
“Fuck.”
Rick twirled a cigarette between his fingers. “The tape of you and Hollywood It Girl five years ago gave your career a kick in the ass. But that was nothing compared to this. This is huge. This is—”
Rick stopped speaking as Charlie slammed him against the wall.
***
Riley didn’t believe in conversation before coffee, let alone G! TV. The downside of having a roommate was that sometimes these decisions were out of her hands. Lacey’s guilty pleasure was celebrity gossip, and sometimes that meant waking up to news of a Paris Hilton scandal or the latest measurement of J Lo’s hips.
Riley groaned but slouched toward the kitchen to pour herself a cup of get-up-and-go. “I don’t care who Jennifer Aniston is in love with today. It’s way too early for television.” Coffee would be her life force this morning. As she’d lain in bed, she’d contemplated rolling over and going back to sleep. She would have called in to work, but her aching heart had refused to let her mind rest, so it would have been a waste of a personal day.
Riley took another gulp of coffee and narrowed her eyes at Lacey, who was glued to the TV and still hadn’t responded. “Lace? Are you awake?”
When Lacey looked over her shoulder, she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow wrinkled. What did Charlie call that? A tell?
“Riley, I’m so sorry.”
Riley frowned. Did Lacey know about her fight with Charlie? “About what?”
“You and Charlie,” Lacey said. “It’s plastered all over the news.”
“Those pictures are old news. So I went on a couple dates with Charlie Singleton. Who cares?” Riley waved a hand dismissively even as a dull ache gnawed at her chest. He’d set up those pictures. He’d used her.
Lacey pushed herself off the couch and gaped at Riley. “You knew?”
“Well, sure, I—” A flash of something on the television grabbed Riley’s attention. What was she watching?
“Oh, my God.” Riley’s chest collapsed, too small for her pounding heart. Her throat constricted, too small to take in the air she needed.
In a blink, Lacey was off the couch and at Riley’s side, taking the coffee from her hand and lowering her into a kitchen chair.
“What—? Is that—?” She couldn’t breathe.
“Shh.” Lacey pressed a hand against her back. “Put your head between your legs.”
Riley did as instructed, her mind spinning. It just didn’t make sense.
How did the paparazzi get that tape of her and Charlie in the elevator if Charlie was the only one who had a copy?
***
When Charlie arrived at Riley’s apartment, Lacey met him at the door, her face a study of worry. Over her shoulder, he could see Riley curled up on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes glued to the television.
“Has she been like this all morning?” Charlie asked.
Lacey frowned. “Pretty much. I keep trying to turn off the TV, but she just turns it back on.” She sighed and eyed her friend. “I’m late for work, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
Charlie squeezed her arm. “Get out of here. I’ll take care of her.”
Lacey grabbed her purse. “Thanks. See if you can get her to talk. I’m worried.”
