Chapter Three: It was an orchestration

*Vivienne*

Acting impulsively, I reared back from the familiar stranger who was squatting in front of me. 

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized quickly, still wearing that cheeky grin. “That must have startled you.”

He took a couple of steps back and away from me.

“Liam Ryan Pryce?” Penny's breathy, awestruck voice came out as a wheezy sound.

I swiveled my neck to look in her direction only to see Penny and Rosa frozen on the spot. Their eyes sparkling with unrestricted admiration and love as they gazed at the man in front of me.

It was almost as if they were bewitched. 

The man then stood up, stretching to his full height and acknowledged them with a slight nod. “Ladies,” he said, his smile utterly disarming, and they gasped with delight. 

“Oh my God!” Rosa shrieked, her excitement evident before she slapped a hand over her mouth.

 “I…” she paused for a moment and then pointed to Penny and herself. “We are literally your biggest fans and we just finished watching your latest movie; Apex predator and your performance was epic! We seriously can't wait for your next comeback.” Rosa was practically gushing and spitting bars at this point and was getting red in the face.

A bright, genuine smile appeared on his face. “Really?” he leaned forward and whispered. “I thought I'd underperformed in that movie but your words just reassured me. Thank you.”

Penny took a hesitant step towards, clutching a notepad and a pen which appeared from nowhere. “Sorry, but can I get your autograph? My sister is not going to believe me unless I show her proof,” she said with a tiny, shy, awkward laugh.

Her awkwardness rendered me speechless because the Penny I know was an outgoing and bold woman. 

Is this what they call Celebrity crush jitters or something?

“Yeah, of course,” Liam beamed radiantly as he took the notepad.

Penny and Rosa did a little happy dance together, giggling like little fan girls… which they are technically.

My brows slowly arched as I studied him. This man was the one in the photos with me? Because I could swear with everything holy that I have never met him in my entire life. 

Not that it wasn't possible, but there was no way I could have become entangled with an ethereal being.

The man cuts an imposing figure, standing tall at 6'3” with his broad shoulders and trim waist accentuated by an expertly fitted suit.

The suit is made of a deep charcoal gray fabric that perfectly complements his jet black, tousled hair and piercing emerald green eyes. The crisp white dress shirt beneath the suit jacket is pristine, the top button undone to reveal a glimpse of his strong, masculine neck.

His long legs were clad in tailored suit pants and completed with a pair of expensive looking shiny black dress shoes. His entire ensemble screamed wealth, power and sophistication. 

I dragged my eyes to his face as I took in his high, prominent cheekbones and a strong, chiseled defined jawline. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, framing his green eyes perfectly. His features were so sharply sculpted that it made him look so unreal. 

In this tailored suit, the man looks every bit the leading man - a vision of modern masculine elegance and beauty that is sure to turn heads wherever he goes.

“Are you done?” his now familiar voice yanked me back to reality.

I blinked, my cheeks flushing a deep red at how I was blatantly checking him out. “Done with what?” I threw back at him.

He cocked his head to the side. “Checking me out,” he said without batting an eyelid. 

I bit down on my lip to stop the outburst of sassy comeback that was burning on my tongue. I raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?”

His smile grew wider and for some unknown reasons, it was getting on my nerves. “Naaa.” he shrugged. “I've lived with attention all my life that a little bit of it doesn't bother me anymore.”

And of course, he is one of the cocky ones who thinks he's one of God's great gifts to women.

Great.

“Your looks are quite common,” I said dryly with a bored expression, barely locking in my eye roll. “Your features are sharp but common nonetheless.”

One of his perfect eyebrows arched in a “that's BS” kind of way. “Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” 

A tiny smirk curved the tip of his mouth and that was when I saw it. The twin dimples on both his cheeks.

As if his out worldly appearance wasn't enough, God still had to add more to his beauty. The man was already prettier than most women for crying out loud.

My eyes narrowed and my jaws clenched. I was clearly lying through my front teeth and Mr. Cocky ass knew that. “Excuse you?”

He slipped his hands into his pants pockets, his eyes still trained on me. “I mean, I'm not the one who was caught checking someone out.” a tiny secretive smile made an appearance on his lips. “And considering the fact that you were the one who kissed me last night—” he trailed off with a shrug.

Collective gasps echoed around the room. 

My cheeks flushed yet again, but I wasn't backing down just yet. “That was a mistake. A terrible one from the look of things.” 

He placed a hand on his chest and winced . “Ouch.”

Already getting fed up with his theatrics. I sighed. “How did you even get in here?”

He nodded towards the door. “Your receptionist directed me after I told her I was here to see you,” he answered.

I frowned, totally not getting it. “And why are you here to see me?”

“Did you not read the article about us on Telltale Herald?” he asked. “They are practically saying that I got seduced by you.”

 “Sorry but eww.” I couldn't help but make a face. “But, it can't be something that serious, right? It's not like you are some Hollywood prince or something,” I added with an eye roll.

Mr. Pryce just looked at me and I sure wasn't liking the vibes I was getting from the room. 

Tara coughed awkwardly. “He actually is the Hollywood prince,” she told me. 

I blinked once and then twice. “You mean like he's royalty?”

He chuckled lightly. “Nope, it's more like a title that I earned.” His phone beeped in his front breath pocket, he reached inside and fished it out. He then stared at the screen for some time, his demeanor changing. “They are here,” he announced.

“Who?” Tara is quick enough to ask.

Mr. Pryce looked up and his eyes locked with mine. “The reporters.”

Everywhere went silent and my blood instantly congealed. 

My wide eyes flew to the window that was overlooking the parking lot.

Reporters?

If reporters were here already… with their cameras.

Fuck, no! Not the fucking cameras.

Just how far has this ridiculous rumor spread?

My eyes returned to him with questions in them. How popular and influential is he in the entertainment industry to warrant this type of fast premium attention?

I clenched and unclenched my hands, my head beginning to throb all over again. All these initial confusion and chaos all made me forget the severity of the situation that I was in.

I pressed my hand down on my chest and rubbed, trying to alleviate the ache that was crippling and constricting my flow of air.

I should have taken my pills before anything else earlier this morning. 

I forced myself to take in deep breaths and focused on regaining my control back. 

“Are you okay, Vivi?” I heard Tara's worried voice.

“I'm fine,” I replied curtly, my eyes flashing with a warning. “Can I speak with Mr. Pryce alone?”

Moments later, I heard the sound of feet shuffling out of the room and soon enough, we were alone.

I picked up the now lukewarm coffee and downed it in a go. I needed to get a hang of what was actually happening. 

“You okay?” Mr. Pryce inquired.

I crossed my arms over my chest with a distant expression. “Have a seat, Mr. Pryce,” I told him instead, choosing not to answer his question.

With his eyes still on me, he grabbed a nearby chair and made himself comfortable. Reclining in the chair, his big hands clasped loosely in his lap and one leg stretched out in front of him. In this position, the man exuded an enigmatic grace and confidence that rivaled that of many men.

I took a seat myself, deliberately creating a barrier between us with the table.

“Do you feel better after last night?” he questioned, and I frowned.

“Last night?”

He jerked his head in my direction. “Your fever,” he answered curtly. “Don't you remember?”

I had a fever last night?

This new information was almost debatable but since I still don't have any recollection whatsoever about what happened after the kiss, I clamped my mouth shut instead. 

Even if I did have a fever last night, how did he know about it?

“You don't remember,” he stated conclusively. “You should really rest up. Your fever was so bad that you barely got a good night's sleep.”

A small confused scowl creased my forehead. “Are you trying to imply that you were with me the whole night and probably took care of me because I had a fever?” my tone was heavily laced with skepticism.

His head slowly tilted to the side. “Why is that so hard to believe? Because I am a celebrity.”

“People, especially celebrities, don't do things unless it benefits them in a way,” I said, my voice firm.

“That's called stereotyping.”

“It's called logical reasoning,” I responded, my tone crisp. “Celebrities and the entertainment industry are more like the most selfish species of humans. Their movements and choices are calculated, and they don't care who is destroyed in the end as long as they get what they want.”

Liam looked at me and then leaned forward, his green eyes were pinned on me with a probing intensity that made me squirm. It was almost as if he could see right through me. 

“You are trying to pass off my help towards you as an orchestration, aren't you?”

I arched a brow at him. “This article was published this morning, an hour after you supposedly left the hotel.” I shook my head. “Sorry but I don't believe in coincidences. Facts work much better.”

He chuckled. “Then, you must be speculating that I am the one who led the reporters to this place, huh?”

“The real question should have been how you got to know about my spa and that I had already left the hotel.”

“I saw your ID last night, that was how I knew the location of your spa. As for the reporters, someone must have tipped them off about this place,” he said. “Whatever happened last night was purely a coincidence, whether you believe it or not is entirely up to you.”

For some unknown reason, something was telling me that he was telling the truth. But I wasn't that gullible.

“Have the tabloids pull down the articles. I believe it's well within your jurisdiction to do so. I don't want to be a part of whatever publicity stunt that you're trying to pull here.” 

A flicker of emotion crossed his face but it was already gone before I could decipher what it meant. He adjusted back in his chair and for a moment I was distracted by the definition of his abdominal muscles through the tailored cut of his suit jacket, and the subtle ripple of muscle beneath his skin.

“I'm afraid, I can't do that,” he mumbled.

My jaw dropped. My flabbers were totally gasted. “Excuse you?”

He exhaled deeply. “You were right about something,” he began. “The world that I live in is not something I'd wish to drag someone into but right now, I have no choice.”

“You are not making any sense right now.” I frowned. 

“The attention has to be on you,” he stated. “Our situation is no longer one of celebrity scandals and whatnot.” his voice dropped. “It's now between life and death.”

I blinked rapidly, my brain unable to process what he just said. 

He flashed me a smile. “I'm sorry that this is all I could do. But it's the only way that's safe.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Just give me a little of your trust and time, I will set everything back the way it was before.”

After a tense moment, he reached inside his breast pocket and retrieved a card. He unfolded his powerful body from the chair and dropped the card in front of me.

“Call me whenever something out of the ordinary happens.” a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Please.”

My own jaw clenched and I watched as he headed for the door, his walk a perfect mesmerizing blend between a controlled strut and a powerful prowl.

On reaching the door, he paused for a while but ended up striding out the door.

As soon as he left, I released the breath I never knew I was holding. Talk about some intense moments.

He left but something was telling me that this wasn't going to be the last that I would see of Liam Ryan Pryce.

*****

The rest of my day went by without me accomplishing anything. I was angry, frustrated and confused and the major thing at the forefront of my brain was Liam Pryce.

For some reason, what he said kept nagging at me.

I told the Uber driver carrying me home to drop me off in front of an alley a few meters away from my house. I wouldn't be surprised if those intrusive reporters have gotten my address already.

The amount of calls that I received from them were enough to refresh my memory.

As I approached my house, I ducked my head just in case I bumped into a stray paparazzi. The heavens, however, seemed to be on my side because I noticed nothing out of the ordinary as I reached my apartment building.

“Xabrina,” a voice hissed from the shadows behind me as I made to enter the apartment's lobby. 

My body recoiled involuntarily as I recognized the voice and the stench that came with it. Without much ado, I turned. “Dean.”

Dean grinned and stuck his hands into his pants. “Long time, no see, huh? I almost thought you died or something.” the smile melted off his face. “Turns out you were just busy screening and ignoring my texts and calls.”

“What do you want, Dean?” I asked him, already getting annoyed.

“Money of course,” he scoffed. 

“How much?”

His eyes widened as if he was surprised I wasn't putting up a fight. He rubbed his nose aggressively and said, “Six Gs.”

My brows knitted together. “Six Gs? The fuck are you going to do with six thousand dollars. That's a whole lot of money!” I exploded.

He rolled his eyes. “Spare me the bullshit lecture, Brina. I've got shits to handle and solve with money.”

“And so do I!” I yelled, the stress and anger from today enveloping me. “I've got a fucking business that I'm running, staff to be paid at the end of every month and Mama's fees at the nursing home has to be fucking paid too!”

Dean's face contoured into a dark angry shade. He walked up to me and stared right into my eyes. “Whose fault is it then, huh?” he stabbed my chest with a finger. “It. Was. Your. Fucking. Fault! It's your fault that we are all in this mess. And it's your fault that Mama is stuck in that nursing home with no recollection of who we are! It was all your god-damned fault!”

My fingers dug down into my palm, almost drawing blood as I bit down hard on my lower lip.

“So, don't speak about Mama like you care about her, cause you don't, you selfish bitch!” Dean exhaled and dragged his fingers through his greasy hair. “Get me the miserly six Gs by the weekend. It's the least you could do after you ruined everything.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes as his words came crashing down on me. He was right. It was my fault. Everything was.

“Remember, weekend. Not after that. And don't be late with the payment or else,” he said, leaving the threat hanging and disappearing into the shadows again. 

Immediately he left, I collapsed to the pavement in a heap and finally let out the tears that I have been building up since today.

I ruined everything. 

And I was never going to forget it.