Page 21 of Edge of Heaven (Crimson Edge #2)

Taryn

I’m nervous as I walk into the event venue for rehearsal. Alexa Humboldt is a big deal—and while I’ve had some success as a model, this is next level for me. I was so excited I barely slept last night, and I’m just grateful Callum’s handprint bruise has finally faded.

“Taryn!” Stevie’s familiar voice calls to me and I hurry over to greet her.

She gives me a quick hug before introducing me to Cheyenne—literally the biggest supermodel in the entire world. I’m rarely starstruck, but it’s hard not to be with Cheyenne. She’s tall and blond and absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. The kind of woman the rest of us want to be.

And yet, she has a warm smile as she greets me. “Hi! Stevie told us so much about you. Alexa is really grateful you could step in at the last minute.”

“I’m so honored to be here,” I say warmly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“We’ll see how thankful you are in about four hours, when she’s made you change two hundred times because one stitch in one blouse is slightly off-center.”

“Don’t sass me, woman.” Alexa Humboldt appears out of nowhere, a tiny wisp of a woman with glasses almost as big as her head. “Hi! You must be Taryn! Thanks for coming. And don’t listen to Chey. She thinks because she’s famous she doesn’t have to work.”

“And she thinks because she’s Alexa Humboldt —” her voice gets high and whiny when she says Alexa’s name, “—she can work us to death. For free, no less.”

“You don’t have to be here, Cheyenne Marie.”

Cheyenne sticks her tongue out at her and Alexa does it back.

I stare at them in confusion for a moment, but Stevie nudges me. “Don’t mind them—they’re like toddlers together. You’ll get used to it.”

“I made her career!” Alexa says.

“I made her career!” Cheyenne says at the same time.

“Yo mama,” Alexa tells her and then turns to me. “Okay, since we haven’t worked together before, let’s get you in with the stylist first. I need to see how my designs fit you. Also—I think there was a misunderstanding with your agent about payment for the show—walk with me.”

I’m whisked away with Stevie trailing after me, immediately stripping down to my underwear.

“Let’s get body makeup over here!” the stylist, Susanna, says. “Girlfriend, you have a wicked bruise on your back.”

“Do I?” I feign innocence. That bruise didn’t come from Callum’s spanking but from me stumbling into the bathroom afterward. I was in so much pain I just wanted to get into an ice-cold shower, and lost my balance as I was getting in. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”

There’s a weird look on Stevie’s face, but I smile and chat with everyone like it’s no big deal because I’m not going to bring the drama of my life into an exciting opportunity like this. And I sure as shit am not going to tell them about Callum.

“Oh, that color looks amazing on you,” Alexa says about an hour later when I walk out in an emerald-green, form-fitting dress that flares mid-calf.

“And it fits you perfectly—let me adjust that strap on your shoulder.” She steps on a little stool and starts fussing with the strap, eventually calling for a needle and thread and actually detaching it and sewing it back on.

“What did I tell you?” Cheyenne quips, walking past us.

“You’re lucky my hands are full,” Alexa tells her without looking up.

“Yeah yeah.” Cheyenne is laughing, talking on the phone to someone as she waits for her turn with the stylist.

Everything is so casual here, it’s hard to believe Alexa is one of the top designers in the world. She isn’t a Versace or Gucci, but she’s become increasingly popular over the last decade and I’m still a little shocked that I’m here.

Cheyenne and Stevie are literal supermodels. There are a handful of other ladies here that are well-known as well, having appeared in Sports Illustrated or the covers of magazines like Cosmopolitan .

And everyone is chill. No one seems to question my being here or that I’m not nearly as successful as they are, and Alexa spends a long time making sure the dresses I’m going to wear fit me perfectly.

She’s also paying me a lot more than Diane told me so that makes me happy.

“You doing okay?” Stevie asks me around three in the afternoon. We’ve been at this all day and while it’s a lot of work, it’s also fun.

“I’m great,” I tell her. “This has been incredible.”

“Alexa is wonderful. That’s why I mentioned your name when Joanna had to drop out at the last minute.”

“I appreciate it,” I say, turning to look at her. “Truly. I owe you one.”

She shakes her head. “Like I told you before—you owe me nothing. I recognize the pain in your eyes… and those bruises that don’t really tell a story, but for those of us who’ve read the book, we know.”

I swallow. “Please, I don’t want anyone to pity me or?—”

She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “No one here will judge. Chey is my best friend in the world, and she’ll have your back if you need her to.

Don’t let the lighthearted blonde persona that’s always messing around fool you.

She is one of the strongest, most loyal people you’ll ever meet.

When my ex tried to kill me, she literally threw herself at him, trying to help me.

She was there even though I was too stubborn to ask for help.

” She meets my eyes. “And I know damn well you’re not clumsy. So if you need help, ask for it.”

I look down at the diamond glittering on her left hand, opting to change the subject. “Are you…engaged now?”

She smiles. “Yes. Marty Nadeau plays for the L.A. Phantoms. We’re getting married in Paris in June.”

“Congratulations.”

“He was my light at the end of the tunnel.”

And Mick is mine.

Two more months.

* * *

The show is amazing.

The clothes, the lights, the music—it’s a magical cocoon of new friends and endless possibilities. At least, that’s how it feels until I go backstage at the end and see Callum standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers.

What the fuck is he doing here?

I manage to paste a smile on my face even though I feel sick to my stomach and hurry over to him.

“Hi.” I frown as he leans over and gently kisses me.

“Hey, beautiful. Congratulations.” Callum being charming is always dangerous. I can tell by the brightness of his eyes he’s high, and when he’s doing cocaine, you never know what’s going to happen.

“Thank you.” I accept the flowers because I have no choice. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be here for my girl’s big runway debut?”

Of all the bad luck, the band has the night off tonight. It never occurred to me he would fly out for the evening, but now he’s here and my good mood evaporates.

“Taryn!” Alexa comes over to hug me. “Thank you so much for an amazing show. You were incredible out there!”

“Thank you.” My voice sounds weird even to me, and I catch the look of concern on her face.

“This must be your boyfriend.”

I clear my throat. “Yes. Callum Yates, Alexa Humboldt.”

He takes her hand and kisses it—something I’ve never seen him do before. “I’m incredibly grateful to you for giving Taryn a chance.”

“She’s talented and beautiful—why wouldn’t I?” Alexa smiles. “We’ll talk soon, Taryn.” She moves off to someone else, leaving me with Callum.

“You ready to go party?” he asks me.

“I can’t party,” I protest. “I have an early flight back to L.A. in the morning. I have to see Toby and?—”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “We’re in Vegas and I have the day off. We’re going to party. End of story.”

He stops talking as Cheyenne approaches, a tall, broad-shouldered man behind her. “Taryn, I want you to meet my husband, Ivan. Ivan Rochenko, Taryn Blakely.” She turns to Callum politely. “And you are?”

“Callum Yates.” He pulls the same move on Chey as he did with Alexa, kissing her hand. “And you’re the incredible Cheyenne.”

“I am.” She smiles politely, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Ivan holds out his hand to Callum, and Callum slowly shakes it.

“You’re that guy from the Phantoms,” he says. “Seen you on TV.”

“I am.” Ivan seems to be assessing him, and Callum straightens up to his full six-foot-five-inch height. As if that somehow gives him an advantage since Ivan is a couple of inches shorter.

“We’re going to a late dinner,” Cheyenne says. “I thought you might like to join us.”

I know better than to answer for us, so I look to Callum. His eyes gleam as he nods. “Absolutely. Let’s party!”

Cheyenne and I exchange a look, and I give a tiny shake of my head, praying she doesn’t say anything that will get me into trouble. Thankfully, she doesn’t.

“We have a limo,” is all she says. “Marty, Stevie, and Alexa are all coming along. We’ll see you outside in fifteen.”

“Now this is cool,” Callum says after she walks away. “You’re finally pulling your weight around here.”

I don’t say anything, because there’s no point.

He’s ruined the evening for me, and I have a feeling he’s going to make a major nuisance of himself for the night.

I just hope he doesn’t ruin my relationships with Alexa, Stevie, and Chey. He doesn’t like for me to have friendships with strong, successful women, which is why he doesn’t let me spend time with Ryleigh, but this might be different if he thinks he can use them to somehow further his career.

I have to find Stevie and warn her, so this whole thing doesn’t blow up in my face.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I tell him. “Go mingle. There are lots of interesting people here.”

“And lots of beautiful women.” He looks around like he’s a hungry bear at a buffet.

Gross.

But I don’t care.

I just need to talk to Stevie before he can fuck up any more of my life.

I’ve worked too hard, and put up with too much, for him to blow things up when I’m this close to the finish line.

I also need to message Mick to let him know what’s going on before I delete the app we communicate through off my phone.

I’m so fucking tired of sneaking around.

Two. Months.

I’ve made the decision I’m going to pay that last month on my own, even if it depletes my savings.

My sanity is worth it.