chapter 6

The chauffeur, Lorenzo, is a quiet man with lighter hair. He's probably in his early forties but he could be younger. He doesn't try to engage in any conversation with me through the entire drive. He just drops me off at Lana's apartment complex and says a flat "Bye."

I check the time on my phone. It's precisely 10.37 am when I walk into the elevator. I just talked to Lana. She'll be here in an hour. I'll just wait outside her door until she comes back.

I toddle into the alley and sit outside her door, curling my legs. Despite the warm hoodie, it's freezing outside. Lana better hurry up or I'll die from hypothermia.

I start scrolling through my phone as a distraction. That's when I open Brandon's messages.

10.36 pm: YOU ARE A SLÙT!

10.46 pm: YOU ARE A GOLD-DIGGING WHORE!

10.56 pm: YOU ARE MY BIGGEST REGRET! I WISH I NEVER MET YOU! YOU RUINED MY BIRTHDAY! YOU RUINED MY LIFE! I WISH YOU ALL THE WORST THINGS IN LIFE!

11.06 pm: WENDY IS A MILLION TIMES BETTER THAN YOU. SHE'S EVERYTHING YOU WILL NEVER BE! SHE WOULD NEVER GO BEHIND MY BACK AND BETRAY ME LIKE YOU!

11.16 pm: YOU ARE A TRAITOR! I HATE YOU WITH ALL OF MY HEART!

I'm shocked to see more texts from Brandon. But this time, he texted me in the morning with a much friendlier tone.

5.37 am: Sorry for the texts last night. I was drunk. I didn't mean all those stupid things I said to you.

6.07 am: Sorry I was an asshole last night. And I'm sorry I cheated on you (even though you cheated on me too with my boss). But I forgive you.

6.08 am: I hope that we can still be friends, Dani. I value you. And I value our history. You are important to me. Waiting for your reply.

I was too drunk last night to block him. And I'm glad I didn't. Because I still need something from him. My teeth are chattering as I dial his number and call him. He picks up on the first ring.

"Dani!" He sounds relieved. "So glad you called!"

"Let's meet tomorrow," I demand. "Your place. Hope you're free."

"I'm always free for you." He chuckles and I hang up.

First of all, that's not true. Tomorrow is Sunday and he's never free on Sundays - at least that's what he said when we were together. He was always busy going to brunches or barbecue parties with his friends. I bought that bullshit until I found out Sundays were for sneaking around with his slùt.

"Planning on freezing to death?" A calm voice asks.

I look up to see a tall lean man smiling down at me. Messy hair. Green eyes. Darker skin. Dragon tattoo on the left arm. Faded jeans. Grey sweater. I recognize him immediately. He's Lana's introverted neighbor.

"I'm waiting for my friend."

"How about you wait for her inside?" He suggests.

I look up at him suspiciously. A smile spreads across his lips and he sighs.

"I'm not a serial killer." He says. "Just a good samaritan. You can tell your friend you're waiting for her inside. If she's a real friend, she won't want you freezing to death."

He stretches his hand towards me, helping me stand. We shake hands awkwardly.

"Dani."

"Nate." He says, leading the way to his apartment as I text Lana about my whereabouts. Just incase I turn up dead or missing, they'll know who did it.

"Please take off your shoes." He says with a shy smile, almost like he's embarrassed to make the request. "Silly house rule."

"Of course."

Nate has a nice little tidy apartment. Green couch. Brown coffee table. Beautiful paintings on the wall. A small bookshelf. Plants on the window. It's stylish yet simple.

"Nice apartment."

"Thanks." He says. "Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee."

Nate disappears to the kitchen and comes back with two cups of coffee. I sit tight on the couch and thank him for the hot coffee. I'm starting to feel a bit warmer.

He retires to the office desk just near his window and pours all his attention to the laptop.

The office desk is a little messy. Nice laptop. Papers and pens scattered all over the top. Mugs. Teaspoons. Notebooks. Novels. Bet that's where he spends all his time.

Lana doesn't seem to like Nate much. She claims he's weird. And he blasts heavy metal music late at night when she's trying to sleep. To make it worse, he doesn't open the door when she bangs asking him to reduce the volume. To Lana, he's a snob. But I'm starting to think maybe she was wrong about him. Nate seems like a nice guy.

"Sorry, I don't have a TV." He says. "You can grab a book."

"No, I'm fine."

"Staring at me is entertaining enough?"

"Just a little." I chuckle. "I guess you could say staring is a fun sport for me. One that I'm not proud of."

"We all have fun sports we're not proud of."

"What's yours, Nate?"

"Sleeping to heavy metal." He says. "Tends to be my sweet lullaby. Don't say anything - I know that's dorky."

"I actually think it's... different," I say. "My best friend on the other hand... she wishes you could keep the volume at zero."

"Oh, that's why she hates me."

"Hate is a big word." I chuckle. "How did you even know that she hates you? You guys don't talk."

"Body language speaks volumes."

Nate suddenly looks away and turns to his laptop. He goes silent on me again. Busy buried in his laptop.

I'm sipping my coffee when he looks up from the screen, a bizarre look on his face. Almost like he's trying to microanalyze me.

"What?"

"Nothing." He says. "Forgot to tell me you're famous?"

"What???"

He flips around the laptop and points at the screen. A picture of me and Damien kissing. Next to a picture of my old I*******m photo in a café. I bolt to his desk to read the headline.

WHO IS DAMIEN'S NEW GIRLFRIEND? CLICK HERE TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE LUCKY LADY AND THE LONG LINE OF FROGS SHE HAS KISSED BEFORE LANDING ON A PERFECT PRINCE.

A long line of frogs? What's that even supposed to mean? Brandon is the only foolish frog I've ever been with. And Damien is nowhere near being a perfect Prince. Infact he's a fùcking frog disguised as a prince.

Nate narrows his eyes on me, microanalyzing me.

"You hate your billionaire boyfriend?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Body language speaks volumes, remember?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So the Internet is a liar."

"It's none of your business." I blurt out and instantly regret it. "I'm sorry... it's just a long story."

"Wanna talk about it?"

No! I don't want to talk about the asshole that I kissed for revenge and ended up fùcking and now I'm on a fùcking article digging into my past. Not to mention, the asshole wrote me a ten-thousand-dollar cheque to pay for my services last night. Like I was his whore. And not to forget, he was just using me for fun. And when I didn't give him enough fun, he ran off to hunt for more fun. So no, I don't want to talk about my 'billionaire boyfriend'.

The doorbell rings.

Lana shows up at the perfect time. This conversation was starting to get a little weird. I'm relieved when she steals me away from Nate.

"Thanks, Nate." I dig into my bag and hand him the piece of cake from Hannah. "Your place was really warm. Thanks for the coffee."

"Thanks for the cake."

"Bye," I say.

"See you soon." He says before we shut the door behind him.

"So the nerd can talk!" Lana hisses as we walk back to her apartment. "And here I was thinking he's deaf. You know the guy is a dìck, right?"

"A dìck who welcomed me into his warm home because I was freezing to death and offered me coffee."

"He's still a dìck."

"The heavy metal he listens to helps him sleep at night."

"It's the reason I don't get any sleep." She scowls at me. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours. Always."

"Doesn't feel like it."

"You're such a drama queen." I chuckle. "I think you should give him a chance. He's a nice guy."

Lana fishes for the keys in her bag and swings the door open.

Her apartment is a mess - like always. A heap of clothes on the brown couch. Dresses scattered on the floor. Pencils and notebooks and novels on the coffee table. Breadcrumbs all over the table. Keep in mind that she was okay leaving the apartment like this for the next six months.

"We should do some cleaning," I suggest.

"Maybe later." She says. "For now, I just need a big hug from my best friend."

She grabs me and wraps her arms around me, kissing the top of my head.

"You are so gay." I chuckle.

"Gay for you, little bìtch."

Lana has always been taller than me and a bit curvier. She's one of the most beautiful people I know. Red hair. Wide blue eyes. Thin red lips and a sharp pointed nose.

She pulls back and scans me from head to toe.

"Nice haircut." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Nice hoodie. It looks expensive. Did you steal my money? Did you steal Brandon's money? Please tell me you stole that Pig's money."

"It's a long story." I sigh. "Nice dress."

"Long story behind it too." She winks.

Lana is obsessed with floral dresses. I'm not surprised that she got some more floral dresses on her little trip.

"Oh, my God!" She gushes. "So many wonderful things to tell you! You'll be burning with envy when I'm done!"

"Maybe we should clean and then -"

"Stop killing the mood." She sighs. "We are going to sit on the floor and eat cake and drink wine and share every single detail of the past week. You will start, Dani."

Lana fetches for the bottle of wine in the kitchen. We sit down on the floor and eat cake as we talk. You should see the look on her face when I reveal the revenge kiss turned into revenge sèx. She's pissed at how Damien suddenly changed and then tried to pay me off like some prostitute.

"Returning the cheque?" She scowls at me. "Did that dìck fùck up your brain or what? We could've gone to Italy or Ibiza or Maldives. You could've started your own business."

"He was trying to pay me off like some slùt, don't you get it?" I huff. "I guess he was also trying to make up for being a complete piece of shìt. The asshole thinks money can buy everything."

"He's really got you pressed, huh?" She teases. "Same way he pressed you on his couch."

I roll my eyes.

"You are blushing." She laughs. "Is it the flashbacks? You Dirty Dani."

"Eat shìt."

"So, what are you going to do about the tabloids?" She asks. "You have to reach out to Damien and ask him to shut down the rumors before this turns into something bigger."

"I'll think about it." I huff. "Enough about me. Tell me about the workshop."

"It was the worst workshop ever." She groans. "But I met Rooney Lane."

"The Rooney Lane?" I gasp. "The famous writer?"

"In the fùcking flesh." She gushes. "I kid you not! The man is a million times hotter in person. And taller. And nicer. And sweeter. And he smells so damn good. God! I wanted to lock him in my arms forever."

Lana is blushing and her eyes are exploding with excitement.

"Rooney was the only good think about that stupid workshop." She chuckles. "I felt like I didn't waste my time or money. And guess how we met? God! It's so embarrassing but cute at the same time."

"What happened?"

She buries her face in her hands, muffling screams. She looks up at me, her face flushed from embarrassment.

"It was lunch break." She starts. "Everyone was leaving the room, chatting with their friends. I was busy drooling over Rooney when he caught me. Embarrassed, I stood up and left. I was shocked to see him running after me in the hallway. I thought it was my dreamy romcom moment only for him to tell me that my dress was stained. MY PATHETIC PERIODS!"

"Wait..."

"Hold on." She continues. "It gets better. He gave me his denim jacket which I wrapped around my waist. He took me to the store to get tampons. We ate ice cream on our way back to the hotel. Can you believe that we were staying at the same hotel? FATE. Then he asked me out on a date. And now I'm his girlfriend. Rooney Lane is my fùcking boyfriend!"

"That's... that's so cute!"

"I'll take your lack of enthusiasm as envy." She rolls her eyes. "I knew you would be so so jealous."

"I'm late."

"What?"

My heart clenches as I try to spit out the words.

"I think I'm pregnant."

***