Hello LAlaland (Lost in LAlaland) by Madi Merek Read Free Book Online Page B

myself to fall for him.
    I changed after that. College was my chance to get away from Los Angeles. I ran and tried to never look back. Kris and I met while I was a freshman, drinking underage at a frat party. I found myself growing further into the strong, hardheaded woman I would become. Even after being cheated on by my husband, I wasn’t hurt because I never let Kris in. I always kept him at arm’s length.
    I awoke with a start, my heart pounding against my chest from the memories that had flooded my dreams. I sat up in bed and stared toward the door, realizing what had woken me. It shook on its hinges as Tony pummeled on it.
    “Wini!” he shouted through the wood. “Open the door! Are you in there?”
    I swallowed around the bile building up in my throat and threw the covers off my legs. What the fuck was he thinking? Glancing at the bedside clock, I did a double take when I saw that it was three in the morning. Tony was bound to get himself arrested for his stupid antics.
    Pushing off the bed, I walked to the door, pulling on a plush robe provided by the hotel.
    “Tony, stop it!” I demanded in hushed anger, hoping he could hear me through the door. The hammering ceased, but the sound of his palm flattening against the wood and slipping down to the handle seemed to echo just as loudly.
    “Wini,” he breathed against the door. “Please let me in.” The desperation in his voice was almost my undoing, and I leaned forward to rest my forehead against the cool timber. “What did I do?” he begged to understand why I’d left. I reached for the lock, but his next words stilled my hand. “I need you, Wini.”
    He didn’t have that luxury. He didn’t get to need me. Hell, he didn’t know a thing about me, and he hadn’t even recognized me before.
    “Go away, Tony,” I told him, allowing resolve to occupy my voice. Though my body ached for him, I would be stronger.
    “Wini?” he asked again.
    “Please. Not now,” I said with finality.
    I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there, me on one side in a darkened room, and him in the illuminated hallway, but I eventually heard the distant chime of the elevator, ready to carry him downstairs. I crawled back into the overstuffed bed and tried to think of my upcoming shows, the new school Walt would be attending in the fall, the weather in Paris—anything to get Tony Ricci out of my head.
    “Who did you screw?” Marci asked as she peered at me from above her wine glass. I paused with my martini pressed against my lips and the vodka fumes burning my nose as I stared at her in shock. How did she do that?
    After I left Tony’s room the night before, I hurried back to my suite and took a scalding shower to wash the remnants of his scent off my skin. He’d managed to penetrate both my body and my mind, and I needed to rid myself of him in order to keep the control I lived for. But he wasn’t through with me, and he’d proven that when he came banging on my door at three in the morning.
    I pulled my attention back to Marci, who sat across the table with a knowing eyebrow raised. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My tone was nonchalant, but the look on her face told me she wasn’t buying a bit of it.
    “We’ve been sitting at this table for thirty minutes, and you haven’t eaten more than three olives, a couple of those pickled beets, and a tiny piece of laffa bread. This means one of two things: either you’ve had a great massage and are über relaxed—in which case you’ll have to tell me where you went—or you boned.”
    “Marci!” I interjected in shock. “You get a fiancé and suddenly you talk like that?”
    “Shut up. Anyway, I’m going to go with the latter, and judging by your bright pink cheeks, I’d say it was with someone from the reunion.”
    I stared in bewilderment at my friend. She was a genius, or perhaps I was just far too easy to read. With my faux stealthiness, I attempted to steer the conversation to another topic.