her taunting laughter. “Gawd, I love that woman.”
CHAPTER TWO
Infinity
Models, and Rappers, and Paparazzi, Oh My!
With thumbs moving at the speed of light, I whizzed through the unending stream of text messages all flagged with ‘urgent’. Savannah complaining about Mason ordering her to ignore all the concert changes I wanted—me responding back, tapping so hard that I thought my phone would snap: Ignore him. I. Am. The end all and be all…proceed as I instructed.
I grunted at her response to my question about Justin: No word….he’s still missing.
Another interesting text from the same number that had been stalker texting me for weeks: Stop fucking with the Collective, Infinity. G iven my renowned gift for the written word, my blunt text response was: Fuck off!
Next…okay, this was the text that I’ve been dreading from my lawyer:
Get back to me ASAP. Rumor confirmed. He wants to be made conservator of your affairs.
I felt my heart literally stutter. He wanted a judge to hand over control of my fortune and almost every other aspect of my life, to him? I could barely control the angry trembling of my fingers as I texted: Mason. Call me ASAP. We need to talk!
I rubbed my eyes, blinking back the angry tears. Yup, all was well in my world of money, fame, and family deceit. I continued to scroll through my texts refusing to let yet another setback take me to that dark place. Work was my solace now, and I refused to let him take what I worked so damn hard for. I repeated ‘Sweat, blood, and tears’ over and over as I totally zoned out and went into super texting mode until I heard the hundredth “Humph” made by Diego. I guess it was his version of a verbal slap behind the head for me to move my ass.
For which I responded again with, “Issues?” Utter silence, but I could feel his penetrating stare as I continued to text.
Then the fingers started to drum on the leather seat in a hip-hop rhythm, he hated to be ignored. I shot him the WTF face as he stared at me with hazel eyes rimmed with sexy black lashes, his dark tanned skin flushed with exasperation, his chiseled face tight with annoyance, his smoky black hair impeccable—he was a perfect, hot wet dream until he opened his mouth to actually speak, which he did after he made a point to shift his long legs encased in dark blue designer jeans, banging them impatiently against mine over and over again like an impatient child.
“This is ridiculous, are we leaving the car or bringing the party here?” He asked with a petulant glare, leaning over to grab my cell which earned him a sharp jab in the chest.
“Ouch! That wicked, boney elbow hurts.”
“Good. Now stop being such an ass. We’ve only been sitting here for fifteen minutes. They can wait.”
Zoe raised a perfectly manicured brow as she crossed and uncrossed her arms. “It’s so obvious that you don’t want to be here. So what possessed you to even agree to have this party?”
I looked up mid-text and snarled, “Mason. He got all whiny about my recent bad press and pressured me into throwing this celeb circus event.” I didn’t add that this was one of the last things I would allow myself to be pressured into by him. Business relationship was over, and maybe our personal one too.
Looking through the window at the celebrities grinning and posing as the cameras flashed in rapid fire while paparazzi screamed their names, I pinched back the instinct to hurl. T his I didn’t miss, the celebrity feeding frenzy and the ridiculous, whimsical celebrity packed parties. But here I was, sitting in my chauffeur driven SUV with my two best friends ready to join the circus.
Diego grimaced, “But who gives a shit at this point? Your concerts are sold out. Let’s ditch this party and go out to Brooklyn to that new club that we’ve wanted to check out.”
Zoe perked up, and started clapping her hands with enthusiasm, “Yeah! I need to check out some new dance moves. Hang with the
CHAPTER TWO
Infinity
Models, and Rappers, and Paparazzi, Oh My!
With thumbs moving at the speed of light, I whizzed through the unending stream of text messages all flagged with ‘urgent’. Savannah complaining about Mason ordering her to ignore all the concert changes I wanted—me responding back, tapping so hard that I thought my phone would snap: Ignore him. I. Am. The end all and be all…proceed as I instructed.
I grunted at her response to my question about Justin: No word….he’s still missing.
Another interesting text from the same number that had been stalker texting me for weeks: Stop fucking with the Collective, Infinity. G iven my renowned gift for the written word, my blunt text response was: Fuck off!
Next…okay, this was the text that I’ve been dreading from my lawyer:
Get back to me ASAP. Rumor confirmed. He wants to be made conservator of your affairs.
I felt my heart literally stutter. He wanted a judge to hand over control of my fortune and almost every other aspect of my life, to him? I could barely control the angry trembling of my fingers as I texted: Mason. Call me ASAP. We need to talk!
I rubbed my eyes, blinking back the angry tears. Yup, all was well in my world of money, fame, and family deceit. I continued to scroll through my texts refusing to let yet another setback take me to that dark place. Work was my solace now, and I refused to let him take what I worked so damn hard for. I repeated ‘Sweat, blood, and tears’ over and over as I totally zoned out and went into super texting mode until I heard the hundredth “Humph” made by Diego. I guess it was his version of a verbal slap behind the head for me to move my ass.
For which I responded again with, “Issues?” Utter silence, but I could feel his penetrating stare as I continued to text.
Then the fingers started to drum on the leather seat in a hip-hop rhythm, he hated to be ignored. I shot him the WTF face as he stared at me with hazel eyes rimmed with sexy black lashes, his dark tanned skin flushed with exasperation, his chiseled face tight with annoyance, his smoky black hair impeccable—he was a perfect, hot wet dream until he opened his mouth to actually speak, which he did after he made a point to shift his long legs encased in dark blue designer jeans, banging them impatiently against mine over and over again like an impatient child.
“This is ridiculous, are we leaving the car or bringing the party here?” He asked with a petulant glare, leaning over to grab my cell which earned him a sharp jab in the chest.
“Ouch! That wicked, boney elbow hurts.”
“Good. Now stop being such an ass. We’ve only been sitting here for fifteen minutes. They can wait.”
Zoe raised a perfectly manicured brow as she crossed and uncrossed her arms. “It’s so obvious that you don’t want to be here. So what possessed you to even agree to have this party?”
I looked up mid-text and snarled, “Mason. He got all whiny about my recent bad press and pressured me into throwing this celeb circus event.” I didn’t add that this was one of the last things I would allow myself to be pressured into by him. Business relationship was over, and maybe our personal one too.
Looking through the window at the celebrities grinning and posing as the cameras flashed in rapid fire while paparazzi screamed their names, I pinched back the instinct to hurl. T his I didn’t miss, the celebrity feeding frenzy and the ridiculous, whimsical celebrity packed parties. But here I was, sitting in my chauffeur driven SUV with my two best friends ready to join the circus.
Diego grimaced, “But who gives a shit at this point? Your concerts are sold out. Let’s ditch this party and go out to Brooklyn to that new club that we’ve wanted to check out.”
Zoe perked up, and started clapping her hands with enthusiasm, “Yeah! I need to check out some new dance moves. Hang with the
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