Carolyn Rosewood Haunted Heart [Etopia] (pdf)

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to speak, but she wasn t through. He was going to
listen to her tell him what an impact real gossip had,
whether he freaking liked it or not.
Do you know what it was like when he d come
back from location? Rowena, I m sorry. Rowena, she
meant nothing. Rowena, it s you I want. Blah, blah,
blah. And it was all a lie. Every goddamn thing he
said was a lie. And I stayed with him through the
crap for six years. Six years, Van, because I was stupid
enough to believe he d come to his senses one day.
Tears streamed down her cheeks but she barely
noticed. Van pulled into the mall parking lot and
headed straight for the darkest, most deserted corner,
and still she couldn t hold it in. The compulsion to tell
him the reality of her life in LA was strong, as if she
had to purge the old Rowena. The one who d been
naive enough to let a man treat her like nothing for so
long.
Do you have any idea how lonely I was? I had
no one to talk to. My parents told me I deserved it.
That I d chosen my life. Tricia was the only one. The
only one besides Jake who didn t judge. And Tricia
didn t snicker behind my back or have that look in
her eyes. I thought I had other friends but I was dead
wrong. You think Tiffany and Becca are evil? They
can t hold a candle to Hollywood bitches. No one can
talk sweet to your face then trash you as soon as your
back is turned like they can.
She took a deep breath and brushed away the
tears. I couldn t go to the grocery story, Van.
Everywhere I looked my face was plastered on
magazines, next to pictures of Brett with some bimbo
actress in a string bikini on a beach or with his arm
around someone else, dressed to the nines while
walking into a restaurant or a hotel or climbing out of
a limo. I was a joke. Poor Rowena, country bumpkin
from Creek Ridge Ohio, trying to live the glamorous
Hollywood life. And I was naive and foolish enough
to believe I could rise above it with my costume
designs!
Rowena, I m sorry&
So don t you sit there and talk to me about fair.
No one broke into your e-mail account and doctored
your messages and then plastered them all over the
Internet. Personal conversations about producers and
directors and other actors that were between you and
your friends. You weren t blackballed in your
profession the way I was. You didn t have reporters
in your face for a year, every time you tried to meet
with your attorney or walk into a courtroom to deal
with endless postponements and posturing by Brett
and his team of high-priced lawyers.
But you&
Her stomach cramped and sweat broke out on her
forehead, but she ignored it. And then, when I
finally won my court case, I had to deal with the
comments about how I d taken him to the cleaners.
They didn t care that he d broken my heart or made
dozens of phone calls to ensure I d never work
again.
She could barely breathe. All because I dared to
issue him an ultimatum. I told him to make a choice.
Them or me. And do you know what he said?
Bile rose in her throat, but still she continued. He
said I had no right to demand anything from him.
That he d given me a place to stay and clothes to wear
and& and that I had no right to demand he stay
faithful.
She stopped herself from telling Van the other
things Brett had said. Things about their sex life that
she d never be able to tell him.
The bile was coming in waves now, and her
stomach heaved violently. She needed air. He d
turned off the ignition, so she couldn t get the
window open. She yanked open the car door and
stumbled in the parking lot, tripping on a pothole and
breaking the heel of her very expensive, Italian
leather pump. Godammit!
She heard Van open the car door, and heard his
shoes on the pavement, but the world was upside
down and for some strange reason the stars were
straight ahead, not up in the sky, like they should be.
It s OK.
His voice was soft and soothing, but the
pavement beneath her head was hot and unyielding.
The nausea rolled over her like a storm surge. She
tried to fight it, but there was no point. She was going
to puke. She shuddered as the food made its way up
her esophagus. Van rolled her onto her side as the
chicken and salad shot onto the blacktop.
It s all right, Rowena. You re OK.
She tried to sit up, only to be assaulted with more
pain, causing her to double over. Van s arms were
around her, holding her, while fresh sobs racked her
body.
* * *
Van woke early Saturday morning to the sound of
Snowball s soft meowing, and opened the bedroom
door to let her scurry downstairs. He glanced at
Rowena, curled up on her side the way a child might
sleep. There was no point in waking her yet.
He followed Snowball downstairs and fed her,
then turned on the espresso maker. While he waited
for the coffee to brew, he wandered through the
rooms, making a mental note of what needed to be
moved in each room as they started on the flooring
this week.
When he returned to the kitchen and sat down to
drink his coffee, Snowball jumped on the table,
offering her chin to Van. He absently scratched it
while he mused over everything Rowena had said to
him last night. When she d first started in on him,
he d been really pissed. But then when she started to
cry, and it was obvious she d been carrying around all
that hurt and anger for years, guilt overwhelmed him.
He d been so wrapped up in his own self-pity this
past week, he never considered how the recent article
might have affected her.
When she told him she d been with Brett for six
years, and described her day-to-day life, the isolation
and loneliness, his heart had nearly burst. The woman
raging about not being able to go to the store or
having any friends wasn t the same carefree, fun
Rowena he d grown up with. She d come home to
find that person again, and instead she d been thrust
back into the limelight.
And what had he done to ease the pain of this
latest gossip? He ruined the romantic dinner she [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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