Strike a Pose (Blame It on Fame #1)

16. Willow

Chapter 16

Willow

“ Y

ou listen to some dark shit, girl.” Riley laughs on what seems to have become our weekly call.

I’m in Paris, squeezing in a workout before my first fitting this morning. I’m trying not to get too out of shape during fashion month, lest I give my trainer a stroke when I return to New York.

As much as I love fashion month, I’m excited for it to wrap up in a few days. There’s nothing I need more than some rest, relaxation, and privacy after this whirlwind of a month—fashion week, yes, but also worrying about Aspen.

Aspen and I have been playing phone tag all week, and although we’re both incredibly busy this time of year, I can’t help but worry that my breach of trust has caused an unspoken divide between us.

I shake my head as I jog my warm-up on the treadmill, returning to my conversation with Riley. “Hey, I warned you. Those rappers say everything I think but just can’t say myself.”

“What do you mean ‘can’t say’?”

“You’ve seen what the press says about me just for existing. Can you imagine wh at they’d do if I publicly complained about them?”

“I think you should try it. It seemed to work out pretty well for Eminem.” I can hear Riley’s grin through the phone.

“Well, I’m no Eminem. He has thicker skin than me, I think.”

“I don’t know about that. You seem pretty tough.”

“I liked your music, too. I think you’ve converted me into a country fan. Especially Willie Nelson and Keith Whitley.”

“No way. I think this is my crowning achievement in life, introducing someone to the kings of country.”

“Coming from a prince himself.” I smile.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” He laughs. “Can you post that online or something? Try to make it catch on. I like that title.”

“Oh, shut up.” I laugh. “I will absolutely not post about you, Riley Coleman. And I certainly will not post that you’re a prince.”

“Fuck, now I have to take down my ‘Willow Jordan is my princess, all hail Willow Jordan’ post.”

I laugh again.

“You have such a cute laugh,” he says through a smile. “In a platonic way, of course,” he adds.

“Thank you, platonically.”

“Platonically, what are you doing after fashion week? It ends this week, right?”

“I’m going to Kiawah Island, South Carolina, for a few days to celebrate my mom’s birthday, and then after that, I’m not sure. Probably going back to New York for a few days. I have a Sports Illustrated shoot in Turks and Caicos at the end of March. Oh, and a Vogue makeup routine video to shoot at some point in the next few weeks.”

“Casually dropping the fact that you’re a Sports Illustrated model,” Riley notes .

“I thought you could use the reminder.” I smile even though he can’t see me. “Why, what are you doing? Where’s your tour headed in March?”

“I’m actually getting a two-week-long break starting in a week. And Kiawah is only a short flight from Asheville…I think you should come visit me at home.”

“Riley, I don’t think that’s a good idea—” I start. Fuck, I never should have let an ounce of flirtation out. I can’t date Riley. The press would tear me to shreds—and him to shreds by proxy. They’d rip him apart right when he’s starting to gain his footing with them.

“Just as friends,” he cuts me off. “It would be strictly a ‘turning Willow into a normal person’ visit. Let me fulfill my end of the deal. You’ve done way more for me than I’ve done for you.”

“I don’t know…” I trail off.

“Please? No funny business, I swear it. You can sleep in my sister’s room. She’s at school. Come on, I could take you to all my favorite haunts. Nobody keeps up with celebrities in my town—I mean, I didn’t recognize you, right? Nobody would know who you are or bother you, I promise.”

“I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Willow, I swear I won’t. Purely professional. It could be a super quick trip for you—only a couple of days. Let me show you a good, normal time. You sound like you need it.”

“Is it that obvious?” I laugh dryly.

“A little,” he admits. “But working for a month straight would run anyone down.”

“You’ve also been working the past month straight,” I point out. “But fine. Before I have the chance to overthink it and say no, I'm saying yes now.”

“You’re saying yes?”

“Yes. ”

“Great! Do you want me to pick you up from Kiawah, or would you rather fly?”

“I’ll fly. I don’t want you to have to drive all the way down to get me.”

“Really, I wouldn’t mind. I love driving my truck. I haven’t been able to drive for myself in a while, it would be nice. We could play some Eminem,” he offers.

“As tempting as that sounds, let me talk to my family about the plan with the plane and get back to you. I don’t want you to drive all the way if I could easily just use the plane.”

“You have a plane?”

“Um…no,” I say innocently.

“You’re ridiculous. Okay, just let me know, Willow Jordan.”

“Okay, Riley Coleman, superstar. I’ll let you know. I should probably get off the phone now. I’m about to start lifting, and I don’t want you to hear my heavy breathing.”

“I’d love to hear that,” he offers.

“What happened to strictly professional?” I laugh, turning off the treadmill.

“I’d love to hear your heavy breathing in a strictly professional sense.”

“Maybe next time. Bye, Riley,” I purr as I hang up the phone, chuckling to myself. I can just see him rolling his eyes at me.