Sweet Temptation: A Trick-Or-Treat Collaboration Read online

  She can’t come.

  Noah’s coming.

  This nasty back-and-forth game of divorce they’re playing is not how I imagined my night to play out.

  “But… it’s so last minute, and I’m not sure we can cater for an extra,” I lie, unable to think of something better to say. If I told her Noah’s coming, she will accuse me of taking his side.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you know they can fit me in. Besides, I need a night away, and—”

  The line goes dead quiet.

  “Morgan. Morgan… but… hello… hello?” I check my cell. The call has cut out.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  The waves of panic crash into me, each one hitting harder than the last. The muscles in my face begin to tighten, and inside the confinement of my bedroom, the air becomes thick and unbreathable.

  “My dear, is everything all right?” the small voice behind me asks.

  Mama Valentino must have sensed the tension as my muscles tighten all over me, and my silent heaving hinders her ability to finish her work.

  “Family drama,” I blurt out, desperate for a solution to this enormous problem.

  Noah and Morgan can not be in the same room.

  She pulls on the back of my dress, tightening it around my waist.

  “My Abuela once told me the most important thing in the world is family and love. If you have both, you are rich in life. You don’t need anything else.”

  Inside, I’m laughing. I have the most fucked-up situation, ever. I’m in love with my family… that is the problem.

  “My family’s complicated,” I tell her.

  “All families are complicated. I have six brothers and seven sisters. But I love them. We fight, we speak our heart, but we always come back together because we are blood.”

  I let out a loud sigh. How can she possibly understand this conundrum?

  Hey, Mama Valentino, I’m in love with my sister’s husband, who is her soon to be ex-husband. I’ve spent countless nights wishing it was me who walked down the aisle and said I do. Me who bore his child, and me who woke up every morning in his arms and became the air he needed to breathe.

  “I sense your heart is in trouble.”

  The words are barely hanging on at the tip of my tongue. My racing heart and equally confused mind is desperate for a resolution to the troubles which eat away at me every waking moment. I’m sick of feeling this way yet, no matter how hard I try, or who I attempt to jump into bed with, nothing erases my yearning for Noah.

  “Do you sometimes wonder what it’s like to be in someone else’s shoes? To experience love in a different way,” I ask boldly.

  Silence follows my question. The room almost feels like I’m alone.

  “I lost my husband five years ago,” she admits, then continues, “I look at the people around me in love, and I miss him. I would never erase what we had.”

  “But what if you could go back and feel it, just for one moment?”

  “My dear, be careful what you wish for.” The tone of her voice remains calm, but it’s not without a sense of warning. “Every wish, every desire, has a consequence. Trust the path that God has put you on. Your life begins once you trust the journey.”

  Mama Valentino pulls the needle out of the dress, placing it back in the box. “All done. Te ves como un ángel,” she whispers with a smile on her weathered face.

  Staring into the full-length mirror, I can’t argue the perfection of this dress. Something about it tells a story. It brings joy and happiness, and wearing it makes me feel like the most important person in the world.

  With minor alterations, the dress no longer sits loosely around my waist. Thanking her for the work, she gazes back at me with an odd expression. The weight of her stare almost hypnotizing me. The hairs on my skin begin to rise, goosebumps rapidly spreading all over my body.

  “Thank you, again. You may l-leave now,” I sputter, slightly creeped out by the weight of her lingering stare.

  In the same slow and agonizing pace, she turns her back to me and shuffles out of the room. The second the door closes, I release the tight breath I’d been holding in.

  My nerves need to calm the hell down. Perhaps it’s the full moon predicted or being the night of Halloween that’s rattled my nerves in a way I can’t explain. Witches and spells, magic and warlocks, all the fairy tales we’re taught from a young age which magically come alive on Halloween.

  But maybe, just maybe, it’s none of that.

  It’s the biggest demon of all, one I will face tonight—Noah Mason.

  My sister’s ex-husband.

  The man my heart brutally ached for.

  And the same man, who only last week, admitted he knocked-up some airline stewardess on a one-night stand four months ago.

  This is going to be one hell of a long night.

  The summer of 1998 was the year a small-town-girl named Sarah-Jo Winters entered a beauty contest at Little Rock Mall.

  My mother, former aspiring beauty queen, had spent all morning fussing over my blonde trusses, sticking bobby pins into my hair to hold it strategically in place, and followed with an enormous amount of hairspray.

  The makeup I wore was purchased especially for this occasion, and although Daddy would argue every night at this preposterous ritual, Mom totally ignored him and insisted I wear the bright pink dress with white ruffles beneath the skirt.

  Every night, leading up to the event, Mom would teach me how to walk down the runway, pose correctly with my knee slightly bent and posture straight, with one hand resting on my hip. We practiced my smiles, answers to questions I would be asked, all the while my sister, Morgan, would raise the music in her room to drown out the noise.

  I still remember the nerves leading up to the moment I walked out on stage. The small crowd inside the mall, screaming kids running around, and a bunch of overly dressed-up girls the same age as me waiting behind the curtains. I had no clue then how this moment would define my life or be the start to a long career in show business.

  I won that pageant, and the very next day I was offered a modeling contract at a well-known kids’ agency. Dad kept his opinion to himself, but Mom was over the moon.

  A week later, my mother was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer.

  My sister and I had no clue she was sick.

  Mom pushed my career, all the while becoming frail and unable to get out of bed some days. Dad never talked her out of it. He barely came home for dinner, and when he was around, he hardly spoke and was very withdrawn.

  Two weeks before she passed away, my parents sat us down and finally admitted the diagnosis. Morgan, who back then went by her real name, Violet, was older than me by two years. She understood what they were saying, retreated to her room, and slammed the door before sobbing in bed all night long. I was eight, and although I understood Mom was sick and would die, I didn’t understand the impact that would have until she was gone.

  The day of the funeral, Morgan pulled me aside when Dad had passed out on the couch from too many beers.

  “It’s just you and me, okay? We have to take care of Daddy,” she said, latching onto my arm and not letting go. “You need to start helping, too.”

  I nodded, listening to her instructions even though her grip began to hurt.

  “Mom made me promise you wouldn’t give up your career. So, I’m going to help you. Mom taught me how to do makeup and hair. You just need to do one thing…”

  “What, Violet?”

  “Convince Daddy you don’t want to give up. He hates this, but Mom wanted it for you.”

  Nodding my head again, her words began to sink in.

  I didn’t have to convince him, I loved being in the spotlight. And if Violet was going to help me, I had no doubt that one day, I would become a famous movie star.

  A familiar voice interrupts my wandering thoughts as Pedro, my butler, greets me with an empty tray.

  “Madam, our most expensive champagne is almost finished. Shall I retrieve more from the ce
llar?”

  My gaze is fixated on the beautiful dark night, and obscured behind the clouds is a full moon.

  Perfectly fitting for Halloween.

  “Yes, please, Pedro.”

  Pedro nods politely, leaving me alone once again. Outside, on my upstairs patio, I stand alone while the party downstairs is in full swing. I enjoy the solitude, and in a few short moments, someone will come find me, and it will be all over.

  Valentino gave his seal of approval earlier. He cried joyous tears, making sure every media outlet will get pictures of me tonight, accompanied by an article of terrible designers. It’s over the top, but I didn’t argue nor stop him, still somewhat pondering over my time with Mama Valentino.

  I want to ask him questions about her, things that somewhat won’t settle in my mind. But when it came to extravagant events like this, Valentino only had one thing on his fashion-obsessed mind and that was who wore what and who was going home with whom.

  My hands grip the railing, mustering up the courage to play the part of the gracious hostess. This event wasn’t even my idea. My publicist insisted I host the annual Hollywood Halloween party. Since the previous known host spent the last year in rehab after her third failed divorce and a brief fling with a business mogul which landed her in hot water, and nobody wanted to associate with her.

  It will be great publicity for my upcoming movie release where I play a possessed beauty queen. It’s based on a true story, portraying the ugly side of mental illness which developed from the character’s obsession to be number one.

  This event tonight is practically funded by a multitude of companies wanting to sponsor everything from the champagne to the fancy napkins, and the decorating of the property.

  It’s also the first time this house will be opened up to guests after having moved here only a few months ago. Nina, my publicist, pushed an article with Architects in Design because any publicity is good publicity even it means the whole world has an insight into my private sanctuary.

  I should have been proud that my home had featured on the front cover of the magazine and was their highest grossing publication to date. It was my biggest purchase, a testament to my hard work over the years.

  My house boasts breathtaking views of the city, in an exclusive location, home to only the wealthy. The elevated driveway leads up to the front of the property, which showcases an extravagant fountain imported from Italy—handcrafted— according to the previous owner.

  The house features eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a state-of-the-art chef’s kitchen with a large dining room which is perfect for entertaining. Attached to the property is a ten-car garage, helipad toward the right, and a massive rear yard. The Olympic-size pool is the masterpiece of the outdoor area with dramatic views of the reservoir, canyon, and city, while maintaining ultimate privacy that I so desperately crave. The paparazzi are relentless in their pursuit of me, and security has been an issue of late.

  This house is all luxury, but to me, despite its opulence, has become a place of four walls which houses my loneliness.

  Money doesn’t buy the one thing your heart craves.

  Beside me on the porch table, my cell flashes—Nina.

  “Scarlett, where the hell are you?”

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” I answer quietly, unconcerned by the desperation in her voice.

  “Make that a fast minute because you’re the star and without you, this night is nothing.”

  The call ends abruptly, nothing out of the ordinary coming from the most ruthless publicist in Hollywood.

  My steps are deliberately small, careful not to tear the sheer fabric lacing the short train, which drags against the marble flooring. I stop at the top of the wide staircase, taking in the view. Crowds of people are beneath me dressed in costumes while nursing their choice of beverages. A cloud of smoke escapes the area from the artificial fog machine which sits behind the extravagant decorations.

  Cobwebs adorn every corner of the room, and above me, against the intricate ceiling design, a bolt of thunder zaps above us adding to the night’s festivities.

  All eyes are on me as I carefully take my steps down the staircase. A round of applause erupts, a few whistles, and by the time I reach the bottom step, a spotlight is aimed directly at me. My smile is forced, accompanied by a small wave.

  A photographer demands I pose, taking a few shots before Nina rips me aside. “Took you long enough,” she seethes through her teeth, faking a friendly expression to people walking past.

  I ignore her callous comment, grabbing a glass of champagne from the passing waiter.

  “I’m here, aren’t I? Now, will you get off my back? I’m going to do the rounds.”

  Nina retracts, turning her back to me and heading in the opposite direction.

  People have busied themselves again, a few pulling me aside to comment on the dress and my new movie. The rule with these parties is to mingle. To spend no more than five minutes, and upon each interaction market your ass off.

  “Scarlett.” My name is called by a familiar voice.

  I turn and notice Charlie Edwards. Charlie’s almost like family, since she’s Noah’s first cousin. She’s one of the few I have trust and respect for in this industry, even though her focus is law, and she isn’t exactly in show business. But she is a part of my legal team. I don’t get involved much, though, leaving most of that for Morgan to handle.

  “Hey, Charlie.” I lean in, kissing her cheek and following with her husband, Lex.

  Lex Edwards is a mogul, owns the largest production studio here in Los Angeles, and is one of America’s youngest billionaires. The man is the epitome of stunning, and women everywhere want to be with him. All that is according to Charlie, though, I won’t disagree. If it weren’t for her loyalty, I would have tried to get into his bed years ago.

  He’s never said much, and on most occasions keeps to his wife and close friends, coming off a lot like an arrogant prick. But that’s the whole appeal about him—money, handsome, and a dominant personality. Your typical storybook alpha billionaire.

  Charlie is dressed as a devil in a short, beaded red dress which hugs her perfect physique. With pitchfork in hand, she purses her ruby red lips, lacing her arm around Lex as he stands beside her, wearing a cape with a pressed suit beneath it and fangs extending from his mouth. He makes the ideal vampire, which only adds to his already oozing sex appeal.

  They’re the perfect couple and do it all while raising three girls. There’s tabloid talk of another on the way, though she squashed that rumor by downing a glass of champagne in a heartbeat.

  Lex excuses himself as his sister, Adriana, and her husband, Julian, arrive.

  Charlie pulls me aside and into a less-crowded area away from the music being careful so no one can hear us. “Noah’s here. He’s in the car on the phone to someone. Please tell me Morgan has decided not to come. I spent two hours calming him down earlier when he received custody papers, which by the way, I had no clue she had drawn up,” she rushes out in a panicked state. “You know I love Morgan, but she’s hired Don Matthews, and he’s ruthless when it comes to custody battles. This is going to get real ugly, and fast.”

  I can hear the desperation in her voice. Much like me, she’s caught in the middle. The only difference is that she’s not in love with Noah like I am. She has no clue the turmoil I face, assuming I’m simply a worried sister.

  Taking a deep breath, I beg silently for more champagne to numb the nerves creeping up beneath my hyper-aware but controlled exterior.

  “She said she was coming. She needed a night away from the kids. And not that I would ever repeat this to Noah, but she just wants to be single and forget about everything.”

  “Uh-oh,” Charlie mouths. “That’s code for she wants to get laid.”

  “Morgan is not like that—”

  “Yes, but she also had a husband who cheated on her.”

  “He didn’t technically cheat. She called it off, sent divorce papers, and they we
re separated. Yes…” I sigh with a heavy heart, wondering why I continue to defend him, “… he shouldn’t have had that one-night fling. And look, now he’s going to welcome another kid into the world, he’s got a lot of decisions to make.”

  “He has a kid, Scarlett. Two, in fact. He has a family here,” Charlie argues back.

  I hate arguing about this. This isn’t my fight. No, just your heart caught in the middle of the piece of rope that’s being tugged back and forth. And arguing with Charlie is futile, she’s a lawyer by profession. She has a career built on arguing. In fact, she makes a ton of money from it. Shut up now and find alcohol.

  Lex returns with his sister, Adriana, and her husband, Julian. I greet them both, Adriana being one of my favorite local designers.

  “Why the faces?” she asks with caution.

  I admired her costume. She’s dressed as a nun in a short, black dress and modest pumps. The irony of it is her pregnant belly sticking out in front. She rocks it even with her tiny frame.

  “Congratulations, I had no clue.” I hug her tight, then lean in to hug her husband, Julian. “When? How?”

  “About six months now.” She grins, snuggling into Julian’s side as he kisses her forehead. “And how… well, my brother’s standing here, so maybe the scientific version?”

  I laugh along with Julian, though Lex shuffles uncomfortably. There’s this rivalry between Lex and Julian. I’ve only heard bits and pieces, but this subject seems like a sore topic. According to Noah, Julian and Charlie were engaged when Lex came back into Charlie’s life. Lex and Charlie had dated in high school, it ending badly with him walking out without an explanation.

  Lex is extremely controlling, so the thought of his ex-girlfriend engaged to someone else ended in a sordid affair behind Julian’s back all in the name of love.

  To add to the messy triangle, Adriana lost her husband, and she and Julian fell in love. I swear, it’s a story made for the movies.

  “No need to be awkward, Lex.” I pat him gently on the arm, attempting to diffuse the tension. “I think it’s great your family is expanding, too. According to the tabloids, Charlie’s expecting.”