Suzanne Wright - From Rags

“You’ve said that already,” said Jaxxon in a bored tone. “And for the record, I know that he doesn’t do committed relationships. Do you know why that’s okay? Because I’m not looking for that. So you can simmer down and breathe, Caption Cautious.”

But Ollie couldn’t simmer down at all. He didn’t want to see this girl who he instinctively knew had already been through enough to have to go through what was inevitable if she didn’t end things with McKenzie now. He wiped his face with one hand. “Why couldn’t you have just picked a nice, well-mannered lad like Bruno?”

Jaxxon leant forward in her seat. “Do you want to know what nice, well-mannered Bruno said to me when he was plastered at the charity event? He said that I was even more gorgeous than his dick, and that if I was hungry I could always put my mouth around it.”

Everyone but Ollie burst out laughing. “W-well,” stammered Ollie, “like you said, he was plastered.” He wasn’t going to get through to her, he could see that. At least they had the tour coming up soon. That would get her away from McKenzie for a while. Maybe she would see things more clearly with him far away, or maybe McKenzie would meet someone else while she was gone and this could be over before it got any worse.

Jaxxon stretched. “Well, as fun as this has been, I must go.” She stood and joined her hands as if in prayer. “I promise to file away all your advice, Papa Wolves.”

As she drove back to her apartment, she tried not to think on that advice. Tried really hard. But Ollie had got her thinking. She’d known that she could never come out of all this emotionally unscathed. But she hadn’t given much thought until now into how she would be put under a microscope having every expression scrutinised and dissected. She wouldn’t be allowed to wallow and heal in peace. The public would know the full extent of her pain. And, therefore, so would Connor. That was something she really hadn’t banked on.

Was Ollie right, was it better to put a stop to all this now?

She wasn’t sure that she could. Her yearning for him was just so strong. Even if she did try to end it she doubted Connor would accept that yet. Not when he’d proposed they didn’t see other people – that wasn’t a sign that he was looking to put a stop to this very soon. If he wanted to contest her decision to finish things, he wouldn’t need to browbeat her. No, all he would have to do was show up, nothing more. As soon as he was in close proximity to her, what was left of her will would totally crumble. How sad was that?

So what now? she asked herself as she pulled up outside her apartment building.

She supposed that all she could really do was hope that after a few more shags things would calm down. Obviously she’d have to promise herself that when it was over she wouldn’t curl up like a foetus and pine away. She would do what she did when she was fourteen and realised he wasn’t coming back; instead of treating it as an ending, she’d look at it as the beginning of something new. There was another promise she had to make to herself; if she suddenly developed stronger feelings for him she would put a firm stop to their arrangement. She couldn’t be with someone in any capacity who she loved who didn’t love her back.

It was as she locked the car that she saw the slip of paper jammed behind one of the windscreen-wipers. She pulled the paper free to find that it was actually an envelope with her name on in capital letters. Once in the empty elevator she tore it open and unfolded the white, plain paper inside. Only two words were written on it in black ink. ‘Die Bitch’.

Oh. Well that was not what she expected. She got letters from nutters all the time but never one that was malicious. It shouldn’t have spooked her. Words were just words. But a chill still passed through her, as if the paper was stained with the malice and spite that had seeped from whoever scrawled those two hateful words. Resolved that she wouldn’t let some fruitcake unsettle her, she rolled her eyes, sighed and screwed up the piece of paper and envelope. The ‘bitch’ part I can agree with , she thought with a smile.

She was just feeling a teensy bit more relaxed when the elevator doors opened and she saw that someone was crouched on the floor next to her door. For a reason she didn’t understand, she was weary of this woman. As Jaxxon got closer she saw the look of hopelessness on her face and how she had an arm curled around her stomach. When she stopped in front of her, the woman peered up and smiled. It was a sweet, innocent smile…but there was a falsity to it.

“You must be Jaxxon.”

The American accent surprised her. Was she supposed to know who this woman was? Her expression said she thought so. Jaxxon searched her memory. Yeah, the woman was familiar. A celebrity. If she had to guess, Jaxxon would say she was an actress…?

“My name’s Anita,” she said sweetly. “Anita Donovan.”

Now Jaxxon remembered her.

“I’m Connor’s ex-fiancée.”

That she hadn’t expected.

“Can I come in? I think we should talk.”

Her voice and smile were so sweet and pleading and friendly…and yet Jaxxon had no inclination to agree. Her instincts were going off big time here; they didn’t like this woman. It was a lot to do with that smile. It was beautiful and pure, yes, but there was that tiny curve to her lips on one side that suggested mischief and cunning. She had seen a similar smile on someone else. Leah. “We can talk right here. But make it quick.”

Anita flinched. “You don’t like me very much. I can understand. No one likes their boyfriend’s exes, do they? But I needed to see you.” Gingerly she rose from the floor.

Jaxxon eyed the beautiful woman with a degree of resentment. She had touched Connor – that was all it took for Jaxxon not to like her. And claiming to be his ex- fiancée …She may be his ex-bed buddy, but nothing more. She waited patiently for Anita to speak.

Anita twiddled her fingers, making a show of being nervous and feeling a little awkward. “I’m pregnant,” she lied well. She waited for a reaction. There wasn’t one. “The baby’s Connor’s,” she added, just in case Jaxxon was missing the point. Still no reaction. “I thought it only fair that you should know.” She gave a sad, low laugh. “He wouldn’t have told you, not until his hand was forced.” Finally Jaxxon responded. With a nod. That’s it ?

Fairly pissed off about having to stand there while someone told her a barefaced lie and fully expected her to buy it, Jaxxon dug her keys out of her black, leather bag. “See ya.”

“Wait, please, wait,” said Anita quickly. This really wasn’t going how she planned. Jaxxon was supposed to gasp in horror at the news, feel jealous and envious and have an instinctive reaction to want to break it off with Connor.

“Sorry, was there something else?”

Yes, why aren’t you reacting like a normal person?! Anita flashed her that famous, angelic smile that had made her billions. “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I know it’s big news.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m being rude aren’t I. Congratulations on your fictional pregnancy!” With that, Jaxxon swung the door shut on Anita Donovan’s face.

What a bloody day.

The only explanation Connor could find for Dane’s behaviour was that he was determined to terminate their friendship. Why else would he have spent their entire tennis match repeatedly commenting on Jaxx’s body and on everything Warren had told him about last night and on what was printed in today’s newspaper?

‘Infatuated’, ‘besotted’, ‘territorial’ – the tabloids had made him sound like he was…What was that term? Pussy whipped. And it wasn’t great when it was broadcasted that you were in a serious relationship when you didn’t even believe in the concept.