Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(79)


Danika approached. She was looking at us, not at Tristan, but she seemed different than I’d ever seen her, more stiff, her limp more pronounced. If I hadn’t known these two had a history, I would have quickly caught on by the way they changed when in each other’s vicinity.

She wore a long silver gown that hugged her perfect figure like a glove. Her straight, blue-black hair was parted down the middle and hanging down her back. The severe and simple style brought out the elegance of her face, the rosebud lips, the high-cheekbones, and those stunning, pale-gray eyes.

Danika strode directly to me, bestowing a kiss on my cheek. She was unsmiling but polite down to her toes. “So lovely to see you again, Bianca.”

She nodded to James, who introduced her to Stephan and Javier.

“Hello, Danika,” Tristan said softly, after all of the introductions had been made.

She nodded in his general direction, but didn’t look at him. “Hello, Tristan.”

“It’s great to see you,” he told her. “You look exquisite, as always.”

She smiled tightly. “Sure,” she said.

A man approached her from behind, wrapping a hand around her waist and smiling warmly. He was about my height, with medium brown hair and a light build. He was handsome, in a nondescript kind of way, but I thought that he complimented Danika well. They made an elegant couple.

She touched his shoulder lightly. “Everyone, this is Andrew.”

“Her boyfriend,” Andrew added.

She gave us another tight smile, then introduced the group to him.

I snuck one glance at Tristan, but the way he was looking at Danika was so blatant and raw that I quickly looked away. Being around the two of them felt like overhearing a couple’s worst fight. It felt like we should all excuse ourselves and leave them alone to sort things out, Andrew included.

Danika and Andrew quickly made their excuses and moved on.

Tristan quickly followed suit. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go punch something now, so that I don’t give in to the urge to punch someone.” With that telling remark, he strode away.

“I take it there’s beef between Tristan and Andrew?” I made it a question.

James shrugged. “I don’t know that they’ve ever met before. I think it’s just the beef that Tristan would have with any man that Danika might date. He’s been in love with her since I met him. For five years, at least. Poor bastard.”





[page]CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Mr. Distraught





James stayed glued to my side almost constantly for an entire week. If I wasn’t working a flight, he was there, and I couldn’t say I minded it a bit, though I began to suspect the reason.

He was terrified that I would watch the video of him and Jolene. He hadn’t asked me not to watch the thing, but he knew me well enough to suspect that I would want to view what was out there for the world to see.

And so I didn’t find myself alone for nearly a week after the sex tape’s release. James had worked plenty in that week, but only when I was working, or when I had someone keeping me company. Lana took me shopping; Stephan sat with me while I painted. Marnie and Judith flew to New York to spend the afternoon with me. Danika dropped in for an afternoon to observe my current projects. I had a constant barrage of friends to keep me company if James had to work and I didn’t, and I didn’t think for a second that any of it was a coincidence.

I was in the New York apartment, painting, when it dawned on me that I was actually alone.

I glanced at the computer in my studio but just continued to paint. But once the thought occurred, I found it difficult to focus on anything else. I knew I’d have to watch it eventually, and it seemed for the best to just get it over with. It seemed like the whole world must have watched that video by now, and he was my devoted lover, so why shouldn’t I get to see it?

I was sitting at the computer and searching for it online before I could give it much more thought. I typed ‘James Cavendish sex tape’ into the search engine. It was that easy.

My gut knotted painfully from the moment I dragged the mouse over the play button. Every instinct I had told me to just turn it off. Some things you couldn’t take back, and watching James have sex with another woman, a woman I’d met, one who I openly disliked, couldn’t be a healthy thing for our relationship. Still, I watched.

It hadn’t been taped in any place that I recognized. I’d expected that. It was a small room with a big bed, and the camera must have been hidden somewhere high in the room, aimed down, and in the corner.

The small room was empty for long moments before Jolene walked in and knelt on the floor in front of the bed.

She was wearing a tiny black see-through slip that hung at her hips and didn’t cover a thing. I recognized that slip, or at least the style of it. It felt like a slap in the face to see that he’d had me wear something so similar to what she had worn for him. It wasn’t a good start, not that there was any way the horrid video could have had a good start.

She knelt there, all of her glorious assets displayed, her pierced nipples jutting out for drawn-out moments before James joined her in the room. Someone, either the person who had released the video or the person whose site I was watching it on, had added snarky little comments to the video. Directly beneath Jolene, ‘HOTTEST FUCKING BITCH EVER!’ was scrawled in hot pink.

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