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

  Charlie snorts, very unfeminine of her, which causes Adriana to break into a fit of giggles.

  “Clearly, because drinking champagne while pregnant is so crass.” She raises her glass, the champagne already loosening her words and thoughts. “Let’s see, photographer caught me on a bad day when I was PMSing and bloating like a beached whale. Plus, I happen to be stuffing my face with a burger. Stupid pencil skirt. I did look pregnant, so now all I’ve been doing is drinking to squash the rumors.”

  “Careful, next you’ll be the alcoholic,” I remind her, playfully.

  We all laugh, unable to contain the hilarity of our own lives. Being in the spotlight is a devil in disguise. Whenever we zigged, the paparazzi zagged.

  “Did you hear the one about Lex having an affair with Kate?” Charlie asks, nodding her head with a sarcastic smile.

  Kate is Lex’s executive manager and a close friend of the family. She’s also very tight with Noah. Often, Morgan worried about their friendship being more than platonic, but Kate never expressed interest in Noah except for when they first met. Noah mentioned they got into some sort of trouble which ended up with them in jail for the night, but it bonded their friendship, and nothing ever eventuated from that.

  Kate is mainly based on the East Coast running Lex’s multiple businesses. She’s unable to make it tonight, which is disappointing. It won’t be the same without her and her comedic pommy accent.

  “Yes, but Kate texted me a picture of the man she was screwing. So, sorry, Lex… that lie’s out of the bag,” I point out, jokingly.

  “Wait… Kate is screwing a man?” Lex questions with a confused expression. “Please don’t tell me it’s the same one I’m thinking. Does she not have the brainpower to move on?”

  Charlie and Adriana both glance at Lex with fire in their eyes as they unleash in unison.

  I half-listen, uninterested, as the nerves begin their unwanted mission shimmering over me in waves. Thinking of ways to exit this conversation and trying to remember where I left my Xanax, I blurt out what comes to mind, “I’ve said enough,” I admit. “The heart wants what the heart wants. You can’t fight it no matter how hard you try.”

  “Tell me about it.” His voice lingers behind me. A voice that haunts me in my dreams and tortures me in my nightmares. A voice who belongs to the one man who’s ruled my stupid heart and doesn’t even know it.

  I’m scared to turn around, to see his eyes pierce me for all the wrong reasons. And the moment I do, his eyes bore into me just like I knew they would. The weight of his stare claws into every part of me, inch by inch, digging deep into some secret part within me desperate to hide as the constant ache follows.

  “Noah.” Julian extends his hand first, shaking it politely. “I thought you were called to New York?”

  “Change of plans.”

  There’s an awkward silence between us, and I am unable to look at him. I turn away and focus on the crowd pretending he doesn’t look devastatingly handsome in his black designer suit.

  “Listen, we’re all adults here,” he says with a slightly bitter tone. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I can handle it. Okay? So, Adriana, congratulations… I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Um… thank you. And, um… congratulations to you, too,” she blurts out, immediately regretting it as her face cringes.

  He smiles, it’s forced, but he remains quiet. Quickly, Noah excuses himself. He’s on the hunt for some real booze, disappearing to the bar in a flash.

  “Crap! What was I supposed to say? He said not to tiptoe,” Adriana cries out apologetically, rubbing her stomach as she breathes in and out slowly to calm down.

  “It’s not your fault. He’s got a lot on his mind… it’s a guy thing. I’m going to go find him.”

  Julian cups Adriana’s face in his hands, kissing her lips gently. It appears to relax her, and just the simple gesture makes the slow burn inside of me crave precisely that. I want what they have, the whole package, and I want it with someone who will worship me the same way.

  And that person will never be Noah.

  The hurtful truth shifts my mood as Julian tells us he’s off to find Noah.

  “I’ll come with you,” Lex calls out, following in tow.

  I smile, forcefully, trying to hold myself together.

  “So, Lex and Julian are besties now?” I ask Charlie, grabbing another champagne from a waiter drifting past.

  Charlie sighs. “They have a truce. Basically, that truce involves taking Noah to strip joints… or something.”

  The thought slightly pangs in my heart. Despite all his flaws, and an evident case of being unable to control himself with other women, it doesn’t erase my desire for him.

  “What?” Adriana almost chokes on some puff she’s eating. “You never told me that?”

  “Presley told me… speak of the devil…” Charlie mumbles, nodding toward her right.

  Haden and Presley are walking side by side, barely acknowledging each other, the tension clearly visible on their faces as they inch closer to us.

  Haden Cooper runs one of the top publications on the West Coast. He’s Noah’s boss, but the three of them, including Lex, are very close friends. They’re all business, ferocious with work, but they play hard. The strip joint comment doesn’t surprise me, though I never worked out who the instigator is.

  Presley, Haden’s wife, is the editor-in-chief at Lantern Publishing, and is the reason my first book made the New York Times’ bestseller list. They are a crazy couple, forever arguing, but somehow jelled at the same time.

  Haden leans in to kiss my cheek, adjusting his glasses as he pulls away. He looked sexy in his Men in Black costume, not that I would ever admit that to Presley.

  Quickly excusing himself without a polite gesture toward Presley, she mutters ‘Jerk’ under her breath.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Charlie smirks, handing Presley a glass of champagne which she downs in one go.

  “Have you ever had your husband come inside you even though you clearly said no?”

  “Yes,” Charlie and Adriana admit in unison.

  I shrug my shoulders not sure what comment will satisfy Presley right now. The married talk makes me uncomfortable. The longest relationship I’ve had is six months which was with a fellow actor. Half the time we were traveling and on different sets, so I can’t relate to their relationship woes.

  “Argh… fine. Whatever. I’m off to get drunk and find someone more mature than my asshole of a husband. Have more kids they said. Arrrggghhh!” She stomps her foot, making her way to a waiter and grabbing two champagnes off his tray.

  “Okay, ladies, I’m off to do the rounds, but make yourself at home. Wolfgang’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm.”

  I want to find Noah, see if he’s okay. Despite all the drama, we formed some sort of bond in this madness. Moving around the room, I say hello to people, make small talk before I spot him at the bar standing with his cell in hand. Julian, Lex, and Haden are nowhere to be seen.

  Standing beside Noah, I wait for him to notice me. The lingering smell of his signature cologne is like a forbidden drug I’m warned never to touch. My fingers, desperate to reach out and caress his hand, remain on the bar top, twitching with the need to touch to him.

  “Tequila shot, please. And don’t go easy,” I tell the bartender, then turn to face Noah. “I guess you got a head start.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me she was going to be here?” he snaps, brutally.

  “I found out only a few hours ago. Not even. You both weren’t meant to come. Okay? Plus, she’s not here, yet.”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, his tone turning weak and heavy laden with guilt. “It’s getting worse, Scarlett. She won’t let me see the kids. You need to help me, please. She’s playing real dirty, and I don’t know how to get her to reason with me.” He places his hand on mine, a tight grip that tugs at every emotion inside me and causes this meltdown, which I’m struggling to contain. If only he knew how much pain he inflicts on me. If only for tonight, someone could break the spell I’m under, and give my heart to someone else. Or, better yet, return it to me.

  I’m no longer the woman I was.

  Foolish, confident, and full of dreams.

  The Scarlett everyone knew, she’s broken by a man who so desperately needs my help.

  There isn’t and never was—a choice in the matter.

  When it comes to family, I owe everything to Morgan.

  My sister is the reason I’m standing here with everything.

  Everything including a broken heart.

  Morgan is visibility upset.

  Angry eyes are just the start, then came the strut toward us, fists clenched with stark white knuckles which are noticeable even in the dim-lit room.

  People around us observe in silence while they huddle in groups, yet glancing every so often with a nosy curiosity.

  “What’s he doing here?” she growls, her eyes are blazing at me while she waits for a response while ignoring his presence.

  “Morgan, I—”

  Noah places his arm on mine, suggesting I don’t answer. Her eyes carelessly wander toward my arm where he’s touching me. Clenching her teeth, a visible flush spreads across her cheeks.

  “Morgan, will you calm down. Scarlett didn’t know I was coming. This is my fault. Can we please go somewhere and talk?” he begs.

  The fire in her eyes is wild, untamed, and ready to cause destruction as they shift toward him. “Did something change since last week? Did you sticking your dick in some whore’s pussy actually not happen?”

  Noah tilts his head in shame, unable to speak or even look Morgan in the face as his posture falls, and his words become silent.

  “I didn’t think so,” she clipp
ed, slamming more hurtful words against him despite people eavesdropping around us. “Go on, give me the long-winded explanation on how you’re sorry. How you wish it never happened. Well, guess what? In a few short months you’re going to be a daddy again. Reality check, baby.”

  “You chose to give up on us!” Noah erupts, his temper getting the better of him. “You chose yourself over your family. You blame this on me, that this is all my fault, but you set the wheels in motion. I was fucking devastated when you issued me those papers on Christmas Eve, of all days.”

  Morgan’s glance tightens. Noah’s not helping to diffuse the situation by placing blame on her. She will never take responsibility for what she started, and so many times I’ve wanted to tell Noah I agreed with him. If she didn’t initiate the divorce, this never would have happened.

  But again, this isn’t my battle, and I know better than to openly take sides.

  “Morgan,” I say softly, to calm her down. “Let’s go outside. Get some fresh air. Okay?”

  She shakes her head like a petulant child, refusing to move.

  Taking drastic measures, I pull her arm with force away from Noah, dragging her away from the crowd and to a quieter place behind the kitchen and out onto the small outside patio.

  She’s silent all the way, but the second we get outside, she screams, “This isn’t fair! I don’t deserve this. I gave him everything. Everything I had to offer. And look what he did to me.”

  Placing my arm around her shoulder, she sobs into my embrace, mumbling words which make no sense at all. She’s hurting, I understand, but in so many ways, I envy her. I envy the life she had, even if it was short-lived with the man she loved. I envy her pain. I’m a sadist, I know. I’d rather feel the love of a man who consumed me than never to have loved at all.

  “Look, the two of you need time apart to process.”

  “He thinks he can see his kid?” She laughs, pulling away, her mascara running down her face and ruining her perfect makeup. “The judge will do what is in the best interest for Jessa, and he’s a low-lying scumbag. That’ll teach him.”

  There’s no reasoning with her. Her anger’s tunnel-visioned and my worry lay with him, not her right now, despite she being my sister. I love Morgan, but she’s not completely innocent in all this mess.

  “You need to calm down, okay?” My frustration spirals in my tone. “It’s not like you’re the complete victim in all of this? You sent him the divorce papers. You gave up on your marriage. What did you expect him to do?”

  She lifts her head, begging me with her eyes. “You think this is my fault? You think that I don’t know that you’re in love with my husband?”

  My eyes and mouth freeze wide open in an expression of stunned surprise. My dirty little secret’s exposed. How? Why? Questions ram into my confused mind while she continues to openly attack me.

  “For once, you’re second best. He wanted me, not you. Do you know how satisfying it has been to watch you pine for a man who wouldn’t even blink an eye and notice you in the same room?” The shrill in her voice is more than vindictive, it’s downright mean.

  “Stop, Morgan! Before I—”

  “Before you do what, Scarlett? Ruin my life? It’s already fucking ruined!” Her voice echoes out into the night. The kitchen staff even turn their heads from inside upon hearing this above their own noise.

  How dare she.

  She’s hurting, I know.

  But the stupid little bitch brought this all upon herself.

  She had the best thing inside her bedroom each night and ruined it all because of what? Her career? She is, and always has been, so fucking selfish.

  “I’m done,” I seethe on the verge of lashing out in some sort of hate rant. “Don’t talk to me. Okay?” Lifting my dress above my ankles, I turn in the opposite direction before the tears escape and run down my cheeks. The little bitch! How dare she call me second best.

  “Where are you going? Let me guess… you’re off to find Noah? Persuade him to leave me for good, and fall in love with you?” she mocks, followed by a heartfelt hurtful laugh.

  With a rapidly beating heart which is almost killing my breathing on this very spot, I spin around. “You’re doing a damn fine job pushing him away, and as for falling in love with me, just remember who he wanted first. It wasn’t you.”

  I turn back at the same time Morgan screams, “You slut.”

  Suddenly, my body is pulled backward, her hands latch onto the straps of my dress.

  A jolt of electricity ricochets between us, forcing her back and causing me to leap forward.

  My breaths are shallow—the shock blinding my vision.

  Struggling to open my eyes, the swirl of light begins to focus until I spot Morgan on the ground, lying on her side and breathing heavily.

  I extend my arm to help her up, but she turns away. “Just leave me alone. Go do what you do best… homewrecker.”

  Her words cut me like a knife, running so deep and leaving a permanent scar where the imaginary blade ran across. We’ve had fights, being sisters, but never name-calling or to this extent.

  And this fight, these toxic and harmful words, they can never be taken back.

  Walking inside, leaving her to wallow in her own self-pity, my head hangs low as I fight back the tears. Heading straight for the bar while ignoring everyone around me, I have no solution but to drown this mess in some hard liquor.

  I sit on the barstool, biting my lip to stop the ugly sobs from surfacing. Without looking at who’s serving me, I ask for a double shot. The bartender pushes it over, and I slam it down, begging for another.

  He hesitates, eyeing me curiously. “You might want to slow down. Tequila fixes a lot of things, but I don’t think it’s going to fix whatever you need it to fix.”

  I search his shirt for his name tag—Adriel.

  “Adriel, is it?”

  He nods with a potent smirk, continuing to clean the glass in front of him. Waiting patiently, he raises his eyebrows with curiosity, watching me in silence.

  “You’re paid to serve my guests, including me. I don’t need a therapist, nor a Dr. Phil session. If you want to keep your job, I suggest you keep pouring those drinks for me. You understand?”

  I expect him to sharpen up, pour me my goddamn drink, and shut the hell up. But the nerve of this kid. Okay, maybe he wasn’t a kid, but he looked young. A clean crew cut, part of his job description, I assume. His eyes are extremely light hazel in color, a contrast from his ebony skin, and he’s wearing an earring. I hate earrings on men. The gold stud stands out like a beacon of flashing light. Valentino would love him. So, he’s attractive but an asshole for telling me to slow down.

  “I may be paid to serve, and if anyone needs this job, it’s me. But I’ll tell you something, miss…” He searches my face, the asshole waiting for me to respond, “Winters,” I grit.

  “My papa taught me that respect is earned. When you do the same, I will pour you a drink, but this the last. Blow off steam another way because this isn’t going to fix your white-girl problems.”

  “White-girl problems?” I laugh loudly. “Judgmental much?”

  “I can bet my night’s wages you’re heartbroken over a man. Probably someone who you can’t have.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I don’t.” Adriel leans in, his cleanly shaved face is only inches away from mine. He smells nice, fresh shower scent with a dash of some masculine aftershave. “But I know what it’s like to be in love with a woman you can’t have, and I made the same mistake as you. So, do yourself a favor and sober the hell up.”

  “Do you talk this way to all women?”

  “No, just the ones with sticks up their asses.”

  I laugh, pointing my finger. “If there were anything up my ass, it wouldn’t be a stick. You know what, you’re fired. Fuck you! And while you’re at it, go to hell.”

  His arrogant grin doesn’t budge. Ignoring me, he moves toward the other guests waiting to be served.

  I don’t know how long I’m watching him for, fascinated by the way he moves around the bar, yet still reeling at his disrespectful tone and blatant move to ignore me. The asshole deserves to be fired. Serves him right for not serving me. Since he clearly didn’t listen, I need to find security and make this happen.