“Bro, I—”
“I’m not finished!” I sneered. He looked to the side, fingering the toothpick in his mouth. “Fourth, and most importantly, I got the same friends you got, and they like me much better. I don’t want to fight with you, but don’t you dare step in my face and act like I somehow forgot what my goddamn last name was!”
He sighed, dropping his head into his hands and falling back against the wall. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m sorry. Okay? It’s just—it was good to see you face to face. I was hoping we could catch up, you know.”
“I’m busy—but I was going to come and visit,” I replied, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Plus, you know Chicago—it has to beat the shit out of you a few times before you can enjoy the view.”
He grinned stupidly. “I heard you did got locked up. This Mallory guy—you need me to…?”
“I’m good. As long as you took care of my other problem.”
“I’m hurt you even gotta ask,” Bo replied.
“Good. You know I only call you because if I can’t count on my brother—”
“Who else can you fucking count on?” he finished the saying we had as kids, shaking my hand and bringing me in for a one-arm hug.
“Alright. Alright, I’ma make myself a ghost now. But don’t forget to come down. Everybody keeps asking about you. Megan is clean now, too,” he said.
“Yeah, got it.” I nodded to him when he opened the door, giving me one more glance back before he left. When he did, only one thing crossed my mind.
I shouldn’t have called him.
Amelia
“So that was Bo,” I said when Austin and I got on the elevator. We had left only minutes after Noah had dragged his brother away so quickly I could barely see anything other than his short blonde hair and tattoos on his arms.
“The one and only,” Austin replied, texting on his phone.
“Why did he come back?”
“God only knows.”
“Austin.” I turned him and he finally looked up me. “I need you to know something—I’m sure you understand why. Noah trusts you, so I trust you. Whatever you thought of me yesterday morning no longer applies today. Are we understood?”
His eyebrow raised, practically amused and from what I could tell, impressed. “Understood, Ms. London.”
“Brilliant. Also, when we get to set, please talk to Oliver about getting all his contacts for me. You’ll be my manager also.” He didn’t question this, which was good since I wasn’t asking. The last thing I needed was someone else close to me that I had to lie to.
When the elevator doors opened, the first person I saw step out was Noah himself, his hands in his pocket. The second he saw me, a smirk spread across his face, as it did on mine.
“For the both you.” Austin handed us each a pair of sunglasses. “The press is still manic.”
The fact that that it was so early in the morning and yet they were already waiting meant that the whole world was watching us again. Just like old times—no, worse than back then. But we wanted this, right? That’s why we were even here to begin with, to become something bigger than former child stars. We’d be bigger than even Esther had dreamed. She didn’t make me. I made myself.
Amelia and Noah…no one would forget us.
“You ready?” Noah asked me.
“Been ready since I was kid.” I took the shades from Austin, who was reaching up to cover his eyes. “Are you ready?”
He didn’t answer, but simply took my hand, leading us into the lion’s den.
Chapter Three
Three Months Later
Amelia
"Ms. London," the show’s producer called, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
"Yes?" I asked, turning in my chair. The man doing my makeup never bothered to stop for a moment.
"You're on in five."
"Thank you," I responded with a smile before turning back to face the mirror. You’d think I would get used to my face being like this. But I couldn't do my own makeup to save my life. Years of having stylists would do that to a person. "Wow."
"You like?" He grinned with pride. "I know you have your own people—"
"No, it's amazing!” I assured him. “Thank you so much."
"Oh, thank God. I thought you were quiet because you hated it," he laughed awkwardly.
My resting bitch face strikes again.
"No, I'm just nervous," I laughed.
His mouth dropped open. "You? You're nervous?"
"Yeah, I always get nervous right before I do an interview—or anything else."
"I don't believe it."
No one does. People sometimes forget we are human. Who is naturally comfortable speaking to millions of people?
"Well, it's true. This is it, right?" I asked waving my hand over my face. He nodded, helping me take off the paper towel around my neck.
"Umm, I know you must get this all the time, but do you mind?" he asked, holding up his camera.
"Ms. London, is—"
I waved my hand over at Austin, cutting him off. “It's okay, Austin. How else will the world know who is responsible for this face?"
Austin was completely different from Oliver. He never really said anything until he needed to. He was always just in the background, watching carefully. Sometimes I would even forget he was there. But what I couldn’t deny was the fact that he got his job done. Anything I wanted—hell, I didn’t even have to ask for things I wanted. He already had them set up. Like this late-night talk show with Sammy Graham.
“Okay,” the stylist said, smiling as he leaned in next to me and took a selfie. Seeing the red light flash, I stood up. Austin looked me over and then nodded, opening the backstage door for me. It was funny—no matter what city I was in, the backstage of the studio always looked the same. People chattered jargon into microphones and ran around like chickens. It never failed to amuse me.
I walked to edge of the stage, watching as Sammy finished his intro for me. "Now if you don't know our next guest, then you've just probably invented the wheel. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Amelia London!"
I took a deep breath before walking out and waving to the crowd as I made my way to Sammy. We hugged for a moment before I sat down, crossing my legs.
"Welcome!" he said once again, and the crowd just kept applauding.
"I love you, Amelia!" some guy yelled.
"Aww, thank you! I love you all, too!" I said, laughing.
"Wow," Sammy said, looking out to his crowd. "Why don't I ever get a welcoming like that?"
"You mean they don't clap for you? Don't you have one of those 'Applause' signs?" I joked.
"I did until they found out you were coming, and their excitement just blew it up."
"Sorry, I should have warned you about that," I joked.
"Oh, so it's happened before?" Sammy quipped.
"They don't call my fans the Londonite Nation for nothing!" I turned to the crowd, who once again went wild. It felt like a baseball game in there. Finally, when they quieted down, Sammy continued.
"Yes, the Londonites almost broke Twitter last night with that promo photo. Let’s take a look one more time," he said, turning toward the screen that showed the promo photo of me bound in red rope with Noah standing right beside me pulling the binds tighter around my wrists, that goddamn wicked grin spread over his lips as he stared only at me. Meanwhile, it looked like I was having on an orgasm. Thinking back on it, I think I might have.
“Jesus Christ, Sinners Like Us is right,” Sammy said, whistling.
"Thank you?” I laughed. “Oh God. It’s so weird seeing photos like that posted all over the city.”
“Weird for you? I still remember you as that spunky girl with pigtails on Kid Genius.”
I was damn tired of hearing about Kid Genius. “What can I say? I grew up and changed the rating of my life.”
“And we love it!” another random guy yelled.