Rock Dirty (Rock Candy #2) by Virna Depaul Read Free Book Online

well. Tucker had said I was amazing. Passionate. But he barely knew me. He had no idea what a fuck up I’d been most of my life. That I’d still been a fuck up when my dad had died. It was something I’d always regret, that my dad hadn’t seen me move on to better things. My mom had, but she didn’t exactly see it that way and you could bet she’d be the first in line to write a scathing editorial if my shoe designs were lacking in any way at all.
    Hell, my mother would probably invent new ways for my shoes to suck just so she could yank out her poison pen. The opinion of Anna Lorenz, fashion maven, had ruined the careers of more nascent designers than I could count. She was New York high fashion and, by extension, she was also the voice of all high fashion. And as I’d told Tucker, she liked extreme, at least when it came to my designs. Now, I designed shoes I loved, shoes that spoke to me deeply, but I also pushed the envelope beyond where my instincts told me to stop. As a result, everything in my line consisted of shoes no sane person would walk in if they wanted to keep normal feeling and circulation in their toes.
    High fashion didn’t cater to sane, everyday people, it catered to designers and hipsters looking for something different. But in the end, what was the use of garnering accolades for your creativity when no one actually ever wore your stuff in the real world?
    Fuck.
    I suddenly craved a drink. Finding Claude’s stash, I poured myself a shot of Jack. The burn of the liquid down my throat grounded me, but also brought back memories of my partying days that I didn’t want to revisit. I’d never been out of control when it came to alcohol. A little had always gone a long way, giving me just enough of an edge to find my high in other ways. Dancing. Sex. Streaking. Hell, even fighting. It wasn’t the numbness of alcohol or drugs I’d always craved, but a heady combination of electric energy that told me that I was alive combined with the free fall afterward that made me calmer, able to handle anything life threw my way. It was that kind of adrenaline rush and subsequent let-down that wiped my mind clean, when my heart was pumping so hard I couldn’t notice anything else, even the echoes of my mother’s doubt and disdain.
    Without even knowing it, Tucker’s words on the balcony had attempted to do the same thing, but now that he was gone, they were ephemeral. How could I recapture what I’d felt when he’d told me how amazing I was?
    There, on the balcony, a terrible thought occurred to me. I fought it, but I felt like I was falling apart at the seams. The stakes were so high, and I just needed to get into that zen place where I knew everything would be okay. I’d done it before…
    I stepped up to the balcony railing and gripped it, the smooth metal warm from the sun. My heart was pumping wildly in my chest but my breaths were even. Before I could second guess myself any more than I had, I boosted myself up until I was sitting on the railing, my legs dangling over the edge. Then I carefully stood, balancing on my bare feet. I raised my hands out wide and arched back my neck.
    All of Paris was spread out below me, my new kingdom ripe for the taking. The wind was blowing just slightly and I enjoyed the feel of it on my face for several seconds before my knees wobbled underneath me. I almost pitched forward and terror zipped through me, but at the last moment, I fell back and into a waiting chair.
    I sat there panting and wrapped my arms around my knees.
    Tears were hot on my cheeks but I tried to ignore them. For a few seconds I’d felt exhilarated; I’d cheated death again and now nothing I faced this evening could compete.
    Part of me was horrified at my thoughts. Knew I should tell someone what I’d done and ask for help. The first person I thought of telling was Tucker.
    Sexy, confident, sweet Tucker, who though I was amazing, and thought he knew what I was going through because he envied his