Heartbreaker: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance Read online

  Our number was called, and I got to the counter to grab our food. We decided to dig in, not much for conversation as the flavors and our hunger were all-consuming. Sebastian mumbled muffled comments about how good this place was, and I nodded in appreciation in between bites. We finished our food and wiped off our fingers and faces with napkins before depositing our trash. It was time to start heading back into the city.

  Sometimes when I was with Sebastian, I would forget that there was an entire world beyond the place where we existed at that moment. It happened a lot when we were younger too, in his room, pretending that the conversations between his parents were not fights at all, just words. Like they were far away from where we were hanging out.

  I remember making piles out of pillows and blankets, reading books to each other until late into the night when everything else was quiet and the world was fast asleep. Then I would play him the piano, and the two of us would sneak out into the living room to join each other in a concerto or sonata. Knowing that the world was too fast asleep, too tired, too far away to care what we did in the middle of the night, made our imaginations all the more real.

  But there always came a moment when I had to leave, when we had to exit the room and the world was not so silent. And at that moment, I reminded myself that I was there, and that we were exiting the restaurant, and I was hit with the fresh reality of the city. There were those thoughts of my upcoming assignments again, of all of the past, present, and future.

  “You okay?” Sebastian asked, breaking through my thoughts.

  “Fine, just thinking that I don’t want to go back to the office just yet,” I answered.

  “How much more time do you have?”

  “Not nearly enough to really do anything,” I laughed. “I’ll probably just go back and grab a coffee from the break room before getting a head start on editing.”

  “More amateur photos?”

  “Yep. They’re getting better, but most of this group are interns, so they haven’t exactly been hired yet. I’m just trying to find their best work. I want to figure out how to give them a critique that would help them move forward.”

  “Maybe you should teach a class,” Sebastian joked.

  “Oh no, I have a long time before I retire to make a comfortable living off of making students purchase textbooks I wrote. Besides, the more fame I receive now, the higher my salary later.”

  He laughed at my joke, throwing his head back into the motion of it. “Isn’t that how it is. Well, good luck with your mission of fame. Let me know any time you need a break.” He said the last part with a wink, but I knew he was kidding around and took no real notice of it.

  “Thank you,” I replied with a wave, heading back into the building.

  It was time to tackle the task at hand.

  6. (Sebastian)

  Gahhh, I thought that forgetting about Lillian in a romantic way would be easier than this. Progress was slow, admittedly, maybe even backward. Hanging out with her and Rebecca as a group of friends was surprisingly helpful, though. On top of that, I was able to let out my sexual frustration with Bella, which also made things easier. Overall, the process of letting my feelings for Lillian go was harder than what I had initially thought it would be.

  I wanted to respect Lillian’s space because I understood that after everything that happened with me, and her ex, I knew she just wanted to be alone and focus on her career. He smiled to myself as I was reminded of how happy I was to have her back as a friend, for the most part. But that didn’t stop the feelings from seeping in when it was just the two of us hanging out together. I didn’t want to admit it, but when she would give me that smile, how was I supposed to be expected to get over her? Especially after all the history between us.

  I shook the thought away as I walked back to where my car was parked. I got into the driver’s seat with a sigh before driving back to the office. I wasn’t in court today, which was something I was thankful for because I had a lot of other things going on in my mind, but regardless, I still had a lot of work to do. More cases were being loaded onto me lately, and I was trying to figure out how to best juggle everything—especially while making sure I wasn’t neglecting the relationships with people I cared about.

  I was needing to turn down more clients now, more than I ever did before. I was putting in an obscene number of hours at the office, but I knew I needed to look after my well-being—at the cost of bolstering my fame and renown in the legal world. My head hurt just from thinking about it. There was too much, and it was stressing me out, more than I wanted to fully confess to.

  Maybe I should call up Bella again tonight. There wasn’t much she couldn’t help me forget, at least for a few hours. She was like a goddess: beautiful, powerful, flowered with a confident knowledge of it all. If I didn’t have feelings for Lillian, I was just about sure that Bella’s beauty alone would’ve made me fall under her spell almost immediately. And her eagerness to submit would’ve been the cherry on top, making it seem as if the universe made her to fulfill all my desires.

  So why was it that I couldn’t feel satisfied with her? Why couldn’t I be satisfied to have her? Why did I need to reach for the past, for what I used to have, for what I probably might never have again? I shook off the thought. It dissatisfied me.

  I parked my car hastily in its usual spot and slammed the door behind me as I exited, already pulling out my phone to send another text to Bella. I had no doubt she’d agree to meet again tonight; after all, it had been a while since before last night, and I was sure she’d be eager to continue.

  As I made my way to my office, greeting coworkers along the way, I fought the thoughts of someone bombarding my mind again. I felt like a little kid on the playground, his mind wandering off to flirtatious moments and innocent smiles. I shut myself in the immaculately decorated room and sat in my leather office chair with a heavy sigh. When my phone buzzed, I pulled it out of my jacket pocket, displeased to see the message that appeared on the screen.

  Can’t tonight. I have other obligations.

  I groaned, head in my hands. God, I was going to have a terrible sleep tonight. The thoughts of her were running through my head like cars on a freeway without speed limits. I just wanted them to disappear for a while. I just wanted to be normal again, to focus on my cases, and to regain the stability in my life.

  Can you come to my office now then? I asked, knowing it was probably not the best idea, but at this point, I was too desperate to care.

  I’m at work right now; too busy today. Sorry.

  I suddenly realized as I read the blunt text that I didn’t even know what she did for work. I didn’t know anything about her but her body and how best to make her gasp for breath and beg for me. Maybe it was better that way—but I honestly had no idea—the situation had become too complicated to be solved with simple solutions.

  Was I being unreasonable and losing my mind? I hated this side of me.

  7. (Bella)

  I was busy doing last-minute alterations on the costumes for the show tonight. It was like no matter how much work we accomplished, there was always more to be done with no time to spare at all. This was typical for a night like this; we were a successful theatre.

  One of the fabric pieces in front of me was in need of pinning, and I began sewing the new seam down using one of the industrial sewing machines. I only noticed him when he came up from behind me, saying my name.

  “Bella?”

  I almost didn’t recognize his voice at first since it was such a long time since I saw him. It was dark and sweet, like an aged dessert wine, a smooth velvety Moscato. But I had intimate memories attached to that voice, and it didn’t take long for those memories to come to the surface of my mind, interrupting the flow of the work I was doing and drawing that attention upwards.

  He was as handsome as ever, maybe even more so after his time in England. His muscles were perhaps more defined—though it might be the dark clothes—and his sun-kissed skin was glimmering with inn
er light. With his dark hair slicked back, his sharp cheekbones were even more highlighted, his smile was even more effortlessly smooth.

  “It’s been a while,” he stated, but all I could do was blankly stare, mustering an absent-minded nod.

  This confrontation took me so much by surprise that I was finding it hard to formulate a proper response.

  “I figured, since I was back, that I would drop by and say hi. I’ve missed you.” He stepped closer, reaching for my hand, but I withdrew myself almost immediately; it was instinct.

  “You too,” I was mortified. That’s not what I wanted to say at all. But I knew my manners. My gut was sending me a wave of confusing emotions throughout my entire body.

  “How have you been? May I sit?” So cordial sounding, so formal, and I knew that that was the way he always acted around groups of people like this.

  But for some reason, it still felt wrong.

  “I have work to do,” I replied, hating how my voice quivered.

  I was looking to sound more forceful, but years of ingrained habit made it impossible to do that. Maybe with other people, sure, but with him?

  “Lucas, you’re needed onstage,” a voice called from the other room, drawing my ex up and away from me.

  “Sorry, duty calls. I’ll come see you after the show,” he said slyly with a wink, disappearing out of the workshop, his walk graceful.

  “Who was that?” one of the newer assistants asked as she walked by me.

  “That was Lucas,” one of our colleagues answered. “One of our company’s premier male dancers.”

  “He was in England up until recently, which is why you haven’t seen him,” another one explained.

  I turned my attention back to focus on the work in front of me. I took some deep breaths to distract myself, doing my best not to think about Lucas—or the fact that he was back, and that he still wanted something to do with me.

  I knew he was coming back…he had to eventually. His loyalties lay in New York, even if London was hesitant to give him up. But I hadn’t thought about it till now, and it didn’t fully sink in quite yet. I gasped after realizing I accidentally pricked myself with one a pin. At least it broke me out of my daydream…my thoughts were getting away from me, and I needed a reality check.

  I quickly dropped the costume and brought my finger up to my chest to make sure no blood got on the fabric. I grabbed a band-aid from the first aid kit to mend my finger; though it had only been a little prick, it was better not to risk getting anything on the costumes, especially on opening night. I returned to the piece I was working on before that whole fiasco with Lucas. I took it over to the machines and just prayed there wouldn’t be any more mishaps before the end of the night.

  I watched the performance from behind the side curtains, far enough into the wings that no one in the audience could see me. But I was close enough so that any of the ballerinas could come up to me easily enough if there were any issues with their costumes.

  Tonight, the New York Ballet Company had their first performance of the season, of Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty. I was proud of the work I’d done, especially with the costumes of the three fairies and the final dress for the princess. I spent a lot of time adding the individual embellishments that would make them sparkle like magic beneath the lights of the stage, and I reveled in that fact that it showed. I was like a proud mom lamenting over the work like children I helped raise.

  My attention was drawn to Lucas at the moment. He entered the stage for the first time; he brushed past me, coyly neglecting me. He was resplendent in the white and gold of a true prince. As he danced through the set of the forest, I became entranced in his every movement; from his character being separated from his friends to the part where he meets the lilac fairy—which was one of my favorite costumes—but I just couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  It was, I knew without a doubt, a morbid fascination. Ever since we stopped being involved, I didn’t feel completely comfortable around him. It was for a various number of reasons. Things had gotten strange between us, especially for me. I felt I couldn’t deny him either, and I certainly couldn’t ignore the fact that he was still as handsome and as seemingly charming as ever. The second act passed by in a blur, and as the curtain dropped and the dancers exited, readying themselves for the third and final act, Lucas whispered something in my ear as he passed by.

  “Couldn’t keep your eyes off me, could you?”

  He gave me no time to respond as he headed to the dressing room for a costume change, and soon I was busied when one of the dancers who came to me as a few of the embellishments on her costume started to come loose.

  The nights always flew by fast, and it was over before I felt like it should be. Of course, the first few shows always seemed to go on for hours, but eventually, getting into a rhythm, nothing felt quite so long anymore.

  And so, that was where I found myself now, at two in the morning, packing up my things after finishing some more slight changes to the costumes and reattaching anything that had come loose during the ballet. Tired, and ready to go home and sleep, a small part of me considered texting Sebastian. Maybe he was awake and wanted to hook up.

  Routine and auto-pilot took over, and I opened up my phone to order a ride home. I just stepped out of the workshop and was immediately fit by the firm chest of—who would have thought—Lucas. He held me steady for a moment as I balanced out my wobbly stance. I inexplicitly breathed in his scent, pine needles, as if he really had just been dancing through a forest.

  “Sorry about that,” he chortled, stepping back with a grin. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Lucas, listen—” Thinking I had to tell him eventually—especially if I didn’t want my job here to become awkward…

  He’d interrupted my thoughts as if he had just read my mind. “So, I was thinking that we should catch up since it’s been such a long time. Would you be down to get a coffee or something before tomorrow’s show?”

  “I—Lucas….” I trailed off, feeling that familiar anxiety of denying him. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I made a move to pass him, but he abruptly intervened, stepping in my way, still smiling.

  “Why’s that? Come on, Bella, it’s been a long time. I thought stuff would be behind us by now.”

  “Maybe for you,” I rebuked, hating how soft my voice came out. “But I have other things going on. I don’t have time for you, Lucas.”

  I channeled my inner vixen and firmly but politely shoved him to the side, then I walked briskly to the exit of the building, ignoring his calls after me. There was no way I was going to deal with him right now—not at this hour of the night, and quite frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him in the near future either.

  But I was proud of myself for standing my ground and for speaking my mind. I was sure that he’d come for me eventually, in whatever way that may be. And that anxious waiting was something I was dreading. I didn’t look back, not once. Not after I left the building, closed the door, got into my ride, or finally made it back to my apartment.

  8. (Lillian)

  It wasn’t long into the day before Meghan summoned me into her office again. I sat down, and she slid an envelope with a ticket on top of it across to me. It was labeled Sleeping Beauty, and said that it was for that evening.

  “I got you a ticket to the New York Ballet Company’s show and I talked with some friends I have there. They’ll let you come early and stay late to photograph behind the scenes,” said Meghan.

  I stared at the ticket for a moment and had to pinch myself because my idea was coming to fruition. Then, a brief moment of doubt hit me…that maybe it wouldn’t become exactly like how I was picturing it; that maybe everything that happened before was just a one-time fluke. I quickly pushed the fear away. On the other hand, maybe I had this in the bag. Deep down, my undeniable confidence egged me on, asking me, What other option is there?

  “Thank you,” I said graciously as I accepted the t
ickets from her.

  I was smiling because there was a genuine conviction that my career was taking a turn for the better.

  “I’m expecting great work, Lillian. I know you can do this.”

  For some reason, the words felt a little more threatening than encouraging, but I nodded regardless, knowing this was my second chance to prove myself. The first thing I did was pull out my phone and send Sebastian and Rebecca a text to let them know that everything went over well and that I was going to a show tonight.

  Sebastian text back almost immediately.

  That’s great. I’m going to check if there are any VIP tickets left for tonight; maybe Rebecca and I can come offer you support.

  I considered for a moment whether or not it would be helpful, but I decided that there would be no harm in letting them come. After all, I didn’t need to interact with either of them, and it might be nice to know that there were people out there in the audience for me, wishing me their best.

  Alright, just, uh…don’t get in my way.

  Is that a threat?

  It is if you ruin my photoshoot.

  Maybe that came off a little hostile, so I added on a tactful, ‘Just kidding’ so that Sebastian understood I wasn’t mad or something.

  I would hope you’re kidding, brat. But no worries, we won’t get in your way.

  Thank you!

  I set down my phone back down with a little smile and fuzzy feelings. These photos wouldn’t edit themselves. I got back to my desk and started up the ol’ Photoshop, but the thought of a new project was overflowing in my head. I plugged in my headphones and started grooving to the music of my career picking back up.

  9. (Bella)

  There was going to be a huge show tonight, and it was already getting busy in the dressing room. I was preparing for the show by finishing up with the fallen off embellishments from the night before. The rest of the seamstresses, designers, and dressers rushed about, working in conjugated unison. The air of the room was filled with productivity.