Page 46 of The Playboy
The flight felt much longer than three hours, and I’m stuffy by the time I make it home. My head hurts, my heart hurts, and I feel as if I want to vomit. I catch an Uber back to my apartment, lug my suitcases up the stairs, and lock the door behind me. I turn my phone back on, and my phone flashes with a voicemail.
“Samantha, this is Rose. The position is open again atReel Studiosif you want it. The girl you’re replacing wasn’t able to come back. Rory told me there is a family emergency and you had to return early. I do hope everything is all right. Please call me back so we can discuss this further.”
The silver lining is I might have a job again. The bad news is, it’s Tait’s studio and he is bound to come in. There is no way I will be able to go back there. I don’t want to risk the possibility of running into him. Ben said he would delete the pictures, but right now, I’m not sure I trust him. I pull out something to sleep in and crawl into my bed, passing out from exhaustion.
* * *
I’ve been homefor two days, and I’ve barely left my bed. I need a shower desperately, but I can’t bring myself to get up. I stole one of Tait’s t-shirts, and I am afraid to wash it because then it won’t smell like him. I’ve deleted all the pictures of us off my phone so I’m not tempted to look at them. Not that that actually matters though. Every night, my dreams are about him. They feel so real that I wake up every morning expecting him to be sleeping next to me. When he’s not, I lay my head back down and pray for sleep to take me under again.
Emily has tried to call a few times, but I can’t talk to her. I only respond to her via text. She’s worried about me and still wants to know what’s going on. I still haven’t told her, and I won’t until after my meeting with Ben. I Google search Tait almost every day looking for new pictures. He hasn’t updated his social media since I left, but he has sent me a few messages on Instagram which I’ve ignored.
I decide to Google myself, and pictures of us from the airport and the night club are the first ones to pop up. The way he looks at me breaks my heart. He is so happy and genuinely looks excited to be around me.That’s exactly how I feel about him.Just a few more days until Ben and I meet, and then I can contact Tait again and talk things over with him. I just hope I haven’t ruined everything.
I’m finally coming out of my funk and when Emily calls, I decide to talk to her.
“Hi, Em.”
“Sam, Tait and I have been worried sick about you. Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. “I told you, I’ll talk about it soon. Everything will be taken care of this weekend. I am meeting with Ben, and things will go back to normal.”
“Ben? Why are you meeting with him?”
I go to answer and hear movement on her end. “Sam. Where are you? Why are you meeting with Ben? Talk to me, please.” It’s Tait.
My eyes water and my throat aches. “Tait.”
“Please, lass, come back. I’m so sorry for whatever it is that drove you away. I need you with me. I’ll fix it, just tell me what I did. I love you.”
I shake my head. My throat burns from holding back the sob that wants to break free. I sniffle, take a deep breath, and speak. “Tait, I’m sorry. I can’t.” I hang up before he can get another word in.He loves me.That makes this whole situation hurt so much worse.
I’m back at square one and curl into a ball on my bed, letting the tears flow freely. I get a notification of being tagged in a photo by Tait. I open the picture and it’s a picture of the two of us on our sightseeing adventure. The comment under it reads:I need more of this.Requests to follow me come flooding in, and the comments on the picture skyrocket.Thanks, Tait. Now everyone knows who I am.
* * *
My latest Googlesearch has just revealed photos from Tait’s promotional date, knocking my spirits even lower, but I don’t have time to wallow in misery tonight. I step out on the street from my apartment, and a swarm of paparazzi surrounds me. Each one of them shouts different questions, and I ignore them all.Synergyis a few blocks away, and I was planning on walking it, but I don’t want them following me there either. I call an Uber and there is one around the corner. I keep my head down and look at my phone, willing these people to go away.
The car arrives and I gladly get into it for the short ride to the bar. There are more paparazzi when I arrive, and I want to crawl into a hole.
“Samantha, what’s it like being linked with Tait Flanigan?” one of them shouts at me.
“Can we get a comment?” shouts another.
I ignore them as I see Ben already situated at the bar. I walk up to him and take a seat.
“Can I get a Washington red apple martini please?” I ask the bartender.
“Planning on staying for a while?” Ben asks, taking a sip of his beer.
“Yep. I plan on watching you delete the photos, and then I will spend the rest of my evening alone, drinking.”
His features soften. “Sam, I’m not doing this to hurt you.”
The bartender puts my drink in front of me, and I down half of it in one gulp. “Oh yeah? Then why are you blackmailing me?”
“It's not blackmailing. I’m protecting you. He is going to tear you to shreds. Do you think directors are going to want to work with you when they find out you were sleeping your way to the top?”
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business. Show me the pictures and delete them. Now.” I finish my drink and order another.