Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
The back of my neck prickles, and I feel like I’m under a microscope, but that’s nothing new. The only difference is the way this particular gaze makes me squirm. Tyler’s attention feels like he’s trying to pierce my thorny exterior and see into my soul. He wants to believe that I’m really good deep down, and that’s why I know we’ll never work.
“This bratty behavior cannot go on,” Uncle Marston lectures. “My God, I’d hoped your acting out was a phase, but you seem to get more intolerable by the day.”
“I appreciate that, Uncle Mars. Really, I do. I was taught by the best.”
His almond-shaped eyes narrow immediately. They remind me of my father’s, and though I loved him, I’m glad I took after my mother in that regard. My eyes are upturned like hers, so it’s one less thing that connects me to the man before me.
“What did you say?”
Knowing just how far I can push my uncle and come out unscathed, I throw in the towel and look away. “I said I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“Good. You’ve already been locked out of your social media accounts to give you time to think and reflect.” I roll my eyes, which my uncle chooses to ignore. “Cassie will let me know if there is anything you need. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Wait.” I sit up, something like panic spearing my chest.
I don’t necessarily enjoy my uncle’s company, but he’s never been more than a stone’s throw away, managing every aspect of my life. It’s been that way for thirteen years—my entire adult life and teenage years.
I wouldn’t even know what to do with my independence now if I had it, which is why I haven’t fought harder to take back my life. I’ve gotten too comfortable—too used to being controlled—and now I’m terrified of living without it.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m staying behind to clean up your mess, Aurelia. Again.”
“Why?” I brush invisible dust from the white ruffled apron on my dress. I’m still wearing the sexy milkmaid costume from the studio. It has a dark green frilly pleated skirt, brown corset with yellow daffodil embroidery, and a white ruffled sweetheart neckline.
The dress is over the top if you ask me, but no one did, and that’s the problem. Joanna and my new stylist thought dressing theatrically on the show would keep the attention on me instead of Tania, the other judges, and even the contestants.
Because everything is always about me, me, me.
“They’ll get over it,” I say dismissively.
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
If only. “But why Canada?” I ask instead of voicing the intrusive thought. “Why so far north? At this time of year? Can’t I go to Ibiza or Cabo? I don’t like the cold, Uncle Mars. You know that.”
“You need to lay low and not in some place where you’ll be easily recognized or followed. I invested in some property near a town called Hearth. A ranch with a view of the mountains. It’s remote, but you’ll be comfortable.”
“You mean, I invested in property. It’s my money, Uncle Mars.” I prissily sip my champagne as I watch him over the rim of the glass. My uncle hates being reminded that he’s at my mercy and not the other way around.
“Stay inside where no one can spot you, and you won’t notice the cold,” he snaps. It’s my uncle’s only response before he storms off the plane.
We take off shortly after, and the moment we reach cruising altitude, I stand, ignoring Cassie’s startled squeak as I make my way to the bedroom at the back of the plane.
I puke my guts out inside the tiny bathroom and then brush my teeth as I stare at my reflection. This is probably the part where I’m expected to feel sorry for myself and say I don’t recognize my own reflection.
Sorry.
I’m on a first-name basis with the bitch in the mirror. We braid each other’s hair and support each other’s delusions. The only thing out of place is this god-awful costume.
The peasant-style dress is meant to remind everyone that I’m America’s treasure—sweet, gentle, angelic, and beloved.
I want to tear it off me.
Unfortunately, there’s a knock on the stateroom door before I can.
There’s only one person on the plane who has the lack of self-preservation to disturb me.
“Come in, Tyler.”
The door opens, and my most devoted bodyguard steps inside before quietly closing it behind him.
It’s unnecessary.
The plane is too small to be discreet. Obviously, whatever is on Ty’s mind is worth the risk of my uncle finding out. He has spies everywhere.
“You okay?” Tyler steps into the bathroom and wraps his strong arms around my waist from behind. He pulls me into him, and I let him out of pity since Tyler fancies himself in love with me.
The problem is that he fell for the “me” that doesn’t exist. He’s infatuated with the charming facade my uncle dressed up and put on a stage for the label, lawyers, agents, and media to carve out pieces of until there was nothing left. Tyler covets a shell, not the person lost inside of it.