Anyone But the Superstar (Anyone But You #3)

Chapter 23

23

FELIX

I should pick up a Candy Crush addiction.

Playing a mindless phone game right now would be infinitely better than being caught in a mindless loop of self-recrimination and loathing while staring down a hairless cat.

Mike’s tail curls one way and then the other from his perch on the chair opposite my sofa.

Normally, he’d be taking my distraction as an opportunity to inch closer. To sneak beside me as I stare vacantly at the front door, waiting for Anne to return with my rental car keys.

But either Mike knows what the packed bag at my feet means, or he’s more in tune to emotional undercurrents than I’ve given him credit for in the past.

Forcing my gaze away from his beady-eyed focus, I click open my phone. However, instead of the smart thing – downloading my manager’s favorite app – I do the dumb thing and look over the Hollywood news feeds and scroll through my social media accounts.

Cheater. Playboy. Addiction. Missing mother .

It’s the last that guts me.

An hour or so earlier, after having finally digested who Anne, Elizabeth , is, Jack’s phone blew up from various news agencies asking to know if it all was true. That I’ve been cheating on my fiancée with various women while my mother’s been missing from her normal social life.

It’s Camilla’s last warning.

A text flashes above the picture of my mother and me attending the Golden Globes last year that a tabloid is using in their ‘exposé’:

Are you sure you don’t want me to come up?

While Jack knew there were things to collect from the condo, he had wanted to do it for me. But as the location hadn’t been leaked yet, I felt it a good idea to do it myself. To get some of the answers I should’ve insisted on from the start of my relationship with An—Elizabeth.

I just hadn’t expected her not to be here when I arrived. Or that she would’ve taken my rental car.

‘Meow.’ Mike bats a hidden treat from under the couch toward him.

I also hadn’t expected her to have left Mike alone in the apartment.

The sound of keys rattling against the door jerks my attention to the left.

Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, I stand, preparing myself to hear things I don’t want to but need to.

Yet even with all my mental preparation, my heart isn’t prepared for when Anne walks into the condo.

Her hair is a halo of frizzy flyways from her ponytail, her skin flushed and damp from the heat, her expression somehow stunning and murderous at the same time.

‘Elizabeth.’ Not Anne, I remind myself.

She stutter steps in her Birkenstocks as the door swings shut behind her. Then, as if my knowing her lies doesn’t faze her, she continues toward me, dropping her bag with a thud just a few feet away from mine by me feet. ‘Douchebag.’

I balk, her anger at me unexpected, like so many other things about her. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’ She tosses my rental keys on the coffee table between us. ‘As you’re already packed—’ she thumbs over her shoulder ‘—get out.’

My hands fist at my sides. ‘That’s how you want to play this?’

‘Play what?’

‘Play this whole act you started, trying to get close to me for a story.’

‘Wait.’ She laughs unkindly. ‘You’re going to blame your cheating on me ?’ She shakes her head. ‘You made me the other woman and then spent the night with your co-worker?’ Tears well in her eyes. ‘I promised myself I would never get involved with someone like…’ She trails off, her fists pressing against her eyes. ‘Jesus, your poor fiancée.’

‘Poor fiancée?’ I sneer. ‘So your friend Camilla got you to believe her lies too, huh?’

‘Friend?’ She lowers her hands, confusion in her watery eyes. ‘I don’t even know Camilla.’

‘Sure.’ As much as it hurts, I’m almost happy to catch her in one of her lies. Pulling the image Jack printed out from my back pocket, I hand it to her. ‘How would you explain this then?’

She stares at the photo, a deep V between her brows. ‘Where…?’ Taking it from my outstretched hand, she continues to study the photo of her and Camilla, their combined outfits an d accessories probably more than the average person’s yearly salary, as if genuinely confused. ‘This… this must have been a few years ago.’

She’s a good actor. I’ll give her that. But I’m done living a fantasy. I only ever wanted to work in make-believe, not live it.

‘Sure. And I guess you’ll tell me you didn’t know your family is currently working with Camilla on her own fashion line?’

A light of recognition clicks in Anne’s – Elizabeth’s – eyes. ‘That’s not me. I don’t have anything to do with Moore’s.’

‘Just stop.’

Not as aggressive now that I have proof, she holds up both hands. ‘Look, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but the only thing I did was not tell you my first name.’ She crosses her arms over her chest. ‘You’re the one cheating and carrying on. And what is this about your mother? You told me last night that nothing?—’

‘Don’t even think of bringing my mother into this.’

She steps back from the force of my words.

‘You’re the one who did this to her.’ I swallow back the emotion attempting to erupt from my chest. ‘Threatening to make her struggle public.’

‘What are you talking about?’

I’m not sure if she really deserves an Oscar or if she really had no idea what Camilla was going to do with the information Elizabeth gave her, but I decide to lay out for her. Let her know the true consequences of her selfish actions. ‘Your dear friend Camilla is a blackmailer. As soon as you gave her proof that I wasn’t living up to her lie of us being engaged, she retaliated. Got the whole world to hate me while being sympathetic to her.’

The lines between Elizabeth’s brows deepen. ‘I don’t understand, what proof? And what is she blackmailing you with?’

I choose to believe her confusion, only because if I don’t, I don’t think I could recover. It isn’t until coming face to face with her, knowing what she’s been hiding and me still having to fight the urge to hold her, kiss her, look to her for comfort that I realize just how far I’ve fallen.

For Anne. Elizabeth. Whoever the person was who brought me back to the man I was before the fame.

‘My mother is in a rehabilitation program for drug addiction.’

Elizabeth’s head rears back, her eyes and mouth wide.

Clearing my throat, I explain. ‘My mother is getting the help she needs after being prescribed too much pain medication after a recent surgery.’ I take a breath. ‘She didn’t know. The doctor just kept giving her meds, thinking that she was really getting them for me, her movie star son who probably gets high for fun.’ I run a shaky hand through my hair. ‘She was just following doctor’s orders and then because of me…’

‘Felix.’ Elizabeth reaches out, but I jerk away, causing her compassion to fade and her shoulders to square. ‘I didn’t know about your mother. I swear. And even if I did, I would never be friends with anyone who would use something like that against another person.’

‘Yeah, then how did they get this then?’ I cut her off, not wanting to hear how much she cares about the woman she helped hurt. Raising my phone, flashing her the picture of us kissing at NASA. ‘Who else could’ve sent this to Camilla?’

‘How could I have taken that picture?’ She shakes her head, crossing her arms. ‘I’m in it.’

‘You probably got someone else to take it for you.’ I pause, a memory hitting me. ‘Is that what David was whispering to you about before you kissed me?’

She frowns, as if thinking over my question. ‘No.’

‘Then what did he say before you kissed me in front of the whole crew even when everyone knows stand-ins aren’t supposed to act out the scene?’

‘First of all, I’m not everyone. I don’t work in Hollywood, and I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to kiss you.’ Her cheeks darken, from embarrassment or anger I’m not sure. ‘And David was just trying to help me relax. He told me to—’ she sighs, some of the fight leaving her ‘—he told me to pretend like I was arriving at one of the galas I attended in the past. The ones I was forced to attend by my father.’ She shrugs, her eyes cutting to the side. ‘I always had to pretend to be someone else. That’s what I meant when I said I knew how you felt the other night.’

I scoff, too afraid to believe anything she says.

‘That picture—’ she points to the one of her next to Camilla ‘—was taken at one of those events. And while that is me next to Camilla, I don’t know her. I don’t know any of those people in that picture. It’s just a coincidence. I swear.’

Looking at the photo of Elizabeth next to Camilla only serves to propel my anger. ‘Oh, it’s just a coincidence , huh?’ My smile is not warm or genuine. ‘Just like you coincidentally forgot to tell me your real name? Or how you coincidentally showed up in the condo Jack secured for me?’

Elizabeth’s jaw clenches. ‘I told you, I was here f?—’

‘Was sleeping with me a coincidence too, or was that part of the plan?’

A sharp satisfaction courses through me when her whole body flinches. But it’s short lived, turning bittersweet in the following silence.

Mike rises on his perch, his beady eyes narrowed on mine. Raising his tail, Mike readies to pounce.

I brace for impact, but he’s stayed when Elizabeth rests a hand on his back .

Breaking free of his judgmental stare, the weaker part of me still needing answers.

‘Why?’ The question sounding more broken than I’d like.

Her continued silence grates.

‘Why now?’ Rising anger strengthens my voice. My resolve. ‘Why not use the picture you took of me in the hotel when you had it?’

‘I deleted it.’ The words are forced between clenched teeth.

‘Really?’ Contempt drips off the word.

‘You saw me.’

‘I saw you delete a copy. You could’ve saved it somewhere else while you were busy getting me to play chef while ruining my career and getting me to take you to dinner.’

‘I didn’t?—’

‘The dinner.’ I tilt my head, reassessing her request to be my date. ‘Yeah, you needed me to take you to the astronaut dinner.’

Her eyes widen, only for a moment, but I see it, recognizing it as confirmation.

‘Why?’ I step closer, only a foot between us.

Mike hisses.

I step back, but when Elizabeth’s hand remains on his back, I press on with my questions. ‘Why was it so important to go to that dinner?’

She blinks, her eyes shiny. ‘I can’t say.’

I laugh unkindly. ‘Well, isn’t that the story of our entire relationship?’

Blonde lashes falling over pale cheeks. ‘Listen.’ When she reopens them, the blue is brighter and more intense than usual. ‘I know you’re mad and hurt right now.’ The hand not holding Mike back rests against her chest. ‘ I’m confused too. But I didn’t do any of what you’re accusing me of. ’

I drop my gaze to her shoulder, unable to fight the tempting lies in her eyes.

She takes a deep breath, as if shoring up patience. ‘I may have not told you my first name, just as you didn’t.’ She pauses to let her point sink in. ‘But I never lied.’

I want to dismiss her claim, but the truth of that particular argument makes it impossible. Which only pains me more.

‘This is pointless.’ Exhausted, I pocket my phone and pick up my bag. ‘I don’t know what I was expecting from this conversation with you.’

But I do know.

I expected my questions to be answered with something that would give me hope. Hope that it wasn’t all fake. That I wasn’t as shallow or clueless as the film critics like to assume because of the movies I’ve made. Or, at the very least, I expected guilt, shame and regret to mar her bewitching natural beauty. A reaction that would make the hole in my chest feel a little less torn and ragged.

I walk away from them both.

Reaching the door, I open it, turning back one last time. ‘What is it that makes me such an easy mark for talentless women wanting to make a name for themselves?’ It takes all my strength to hold her gaze.

And while her eyes don’t waver, her mouth remains closed.

Her unwillingness to answer yet another question has me lashing out one final time. ‘I guess that’s just what happens when you don’t have one yourself. At least not a legitimate one, anyway.’

Elizabeth’s blank expression contorts into a pain that’s almost palpable.

There it is. Just what I wanted .

And yet, the vindication I expected to feel is strangely absent. Instead, the void inside my chest grows, more battered and oppressive than before.

Disappointed in myself, I turn to leave, pulling up short when something large blocks my path.

I have a moment to register the sparkle of sequins in the shape of a cat, before a fist slams into my face.

Liz

Felix falls like deadweight to the floor.

My eldest brother Thomas stands over him.

‘Thomas!’ Alice, my sister-in-law, grabs her husband by the waist when he reaches down to grab the front of Felix’s shirt, other arm cocked back.

‘Hit him again, T-money.’ Chase pushes past Thomas and through the door, his attempt to kick Felix while he’s down impeded by my other sister-in-law, Bell, jumping on his back.

‘Fight!’ Mary, my niece, pokes her head around the door frame and into the room behind Thomas, only for an arm with multiple diamond tennis bracelets to pull her back before she can slip through.

Mother .

I witness all of this as if my internal pause button has been pushed.

‘What the fuck?’

‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Stop!’

‘Let me see!’

‘Don’t you ever talk to my sister like that. ’

‘Calm down.’

‘Get ’em, Daddy!’

Chaos revolves around me as I remain rooted to the floor, the only other sound penetrating is the echoing thump in my hollow chest.

Then a new voice enters the fray, yelling about lawsuits. Another few whacks that are probably landed punches. And then, silence.

Until slender hands grip my shoulders, their touch gentle. ‘Elizabeth?’ A light squeeze. ‘Lizzie, dear?’

Mother .

Something smooth and warm winds its way around my legs. Mike .

Slowly, I come back to the moment. To myself. To a sequined cat t-shirt – half King Dick Moore, half Mike Hunt.

I blink, raising my eyes until the details of my mother’s face come into focus. ‘Mom?’

Thomas steps up beside her, his lip split. ‘Hello, Elizabeth.’ His sequined shirt flipped to King Dick Moore.

‘Hey, Lizzie.’ Chase takes Mom’s other side, making small jazz hands. ‘Surprise.’ His shirt, unsurprisingly flipped to Mike Hunt.

My eyes cut toward the doorway where Bell, Alice, and Mary are gathered. Each wearing their own sequined cat t-shirt that I’d sent them. Half of them flipped to Mike Hunt. The other half King Dick Moore.

‘The t-shirts.’ My smile feels wobbly. ‘You’re wearing them.’ My eyes blurry.

Everyone but Mother glances down at their chest, as if trying to figure out why that, of all things, is what I’ve chosen to focus on.

Mother keeps her eyes on me. ‘I’ve missed you, my sweet Lizzie. ’

It’s then that the floodgates open. The hurt, the guilt, the shame, even the love and loss that I’ve kept at bay over the past year surging in, filling my chest until I can’t hold onto it any longer.

And as the tears fall, I’m held tight by a group of sequined pussies.