Blasphemous (Torn #3)(15)

-Dianne Grace



Emma



I was almost sure that Bass slept next to me last night, but when I woke up, I was disappointed to find him gone. Apart from the dent on the pillow next to mine and the soreness in between my thighs, there wasn’t much sign of him spending any time here.

For the next few days, we hadn’t spoken, except during filming and that’s only when necessary. It was a slim chance, but what little hope I had left that he’d at least thaw out and give us another try was crushed as the days went by.

I’m sure he came home to change and shower because, when I saw him during set, he had different clothes on, but I never saw him around. I was lonely, depressed and didn’t have anyone to talk to. Without Bass, I realized that I didn’t really have that many friends around here, well, apart from Ants and Dimitris, there really wasn’t anyone.

When I woke up on Saturday, the urge to cry again was too tempting. I didn’t eat much since that picnic with Bass. It was sad, but food reminded me of him and I always ended up crying on my food instead of eating it.

So, what does a woman do when it’s the weekend with no one around? Watch a depressing movie with tubs of ice cream, of course.

Here I was, halfway through my Butter Pecan Haagen-Dasz ice cream with A Walk To Remember on my laptop, crying just because I felt like crying. It seemed that shedding tears was the only thing my body knew how to do lately. See a sunrise? Cry. See a slice of lemon? Cry again. See a BLT? Cry some more. See Bass talk to a woman who was flirting with him? Slit my throat, please. Okay, maybe not that overboard, but it sure felt like it.

I was so deep in my I’m-so-depressed-I-think-I-need-Dr. Phil-any-day-now that I didn’t hear someone come in the cottage, until I heard a voice call me out.

“Emma?”

“Holy shit!” I jumped from the couch, making the ice cream from my spoon fly off, leaving the cold treat on my chin and my shirt.

If it were a normal day, Dimitris would’ve laughed this off, but the look on his face told me how pathetic I looked. Those glow in the dark eyes looked sorry and sad as he gazed over me; empathizing almost. “I was in Athens since last night, but something made me come back here. I guess, I remembered how deserted this place was when I left the night before. I don’t know if you’re aware, but one of the guys rented out a yacht for the weekend.”

Yacht parties. Island hopping. One f*uking yacht with a drunken Bass surrounded with women. I think I was about to have a nervous breakdown. I was about to start crying again when Dimitris broke into my haze.

“Pack a bag and bring your passport with you. I’m taking you to Paris with me. I can’t stand looking at you, Emma. This is getting ridiculous.”

Paris? I just stared at him like he was talking gibberish.

“I said, pack a f*uking bag. NOW!” he thundered out.

“Did you just cuss at me?” I whispered with bewilderment. This was the first time I had heard him cuss, let alone having him direct it towards me.

Dimitris placed both of his hands on his hips, clearly about to lose his patience. “Yes! Get going or do you want me to do it for you? You have an appointment with Lander in four and half hours. With the flight duration and Paris traffic on a Saturday, we can’t afford for you to be late.”

Well, what the hell? Who was Lander? And Paris, right now? I was definitely sold. Paris was a better place to drown myself in. Not to mention, they probably have better ice cream to swim along in my misery. “Give me ten!” I called out, walking towards my room in haste.

Exactly ten minutes later, I was walking out the door with Dimitris holding my weekend bag. I wore a baroque, lace-corset top dress that ended mid-thigh. The lower part of the dress was made out of satin organza, making it look fun and chic without trying too hard. Pair it with mint-colored, strappy, platform sandals; large, angular, designer shades; and my limp hair pulled into a loose bun, I looked like a normal woman in Paris.

My depressing thoughts and breakdowns, I had to keep indoors. If I really was serious about pursuing an acting career, then I had to learn how to act in public, even if I wasn’t on set. This was my first try and I hoped I was going to do fine.

Dimitris and I didn’t speak during the helicopter ride to Athens. When he maneuvered us into a private airstrip, I wasn’t even surprised to find a gulfstream jet waiting for us. Dimitris was a Kosta. Kosta’s were an affluent family in Greece. His last name alone carried so much recognition and history of a time before Greece was even born.

Heck, beyond my great-grandparents, I had no clue where to go with my family tree from there. It must be overwhelming to be in Dimitris’s shoes. I didn’t blame him for rebelling and doing his own thing, but, I guess, his time was up since rumors were swirling that he was shadowing his father after this movie. It was to be his last, I heard.

We were on the cream seats, buckled up and thousands of feet up in the air, opposite each other, when he decided to break our silence. “I know it hurts to be the one left behind, but you can’t let this win you over, Emma.”

Pressing my lips together, I glanced out the window, watching the thin veil of clouds as I tried to suppress the thought of Bass on that damn yacht. “Is that what you’re doing? Do you think it really works?” I didn’t need to reference Lindsey’s name for him to know what I was talking about.

“No, it doesn’t,” he said, making me glance at him, surprised at his blatant honesty. “But thinking it makes me get out of bed and do what I have to do. You get so used to pretending that you’re okay… that sometimes you forget what it was like before it happened.”