of that city so fast her associates had thought the devil himself was chasing her.
And they weren’t too far off the mark.
“You’re a fighter,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll bounce back and you’ll be stronger.”
She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him. “So now I’m a fighter? You still believe I knew about the drugs in my home and you’re calling me a fighter?”
He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed before looking back to her. “I don’t believe you did drugs, Cori.”
“That’s not what I said. I said you believe I knew about them.”
His eyes darted to the mess behind her and he shook his head. “Now isn’t the time to discuss what I do or don’t think. I need to call some friends to come and help get this cleaned up so we can assess the damage better.”
“And you thought I was a coward this morning when I snuck out?” she asked, knowing her blood pressure was rising by the second. “I think spending the night was a mistake. One I certainly won’t make again. I can’t believe I even slept with you twice, knowing what you think of me.”
He crossed the room, grabbed hold of both of her arms and forced her to look at him. “You have no idea what I think of you. If you had any clue, you’d quit poking at me to get inside my head. Do you want my help here or not?”
Honestly, no. She didn’t want his help, but this was her parents’ house and he was the only person she knew who could fix it.
“I’m going to grab some clothes from my room and take a shower,” she told him, stepping back so he’d release her arms. “Then I’m going to see my parents. Whatever you have to do, do it. I’ll also call the insurance and see what the deductible is.”
She moved around him, careful not to brush against any part of him. The man was positively infuriating and she was extremely pathetic to have slept with him, not once, but twice—all the while knowing that he believed at least a portion of the lies the media had spread over and over.
Had her self-esteem really sunk that low, or was she just so desperate to cling to that one bright spot from her old life that she was vying for any attention Dylan was willing to give?
She knew one thing for certain. Once she left this town, she could never look back. Because if she looked back and saw Dylan again, she’d have to just keep ripping off that Band-Aid over and over, and her wound would never heal.
Chapter Ten
Corinne pulled into the lot of the only doctor in town and sighed. This was literally the last office she could apply at. She’d tried the local college in the Office of Admissions, she’d spoken with the CEO of the hospital, whom she’d actually gone to school with, and she’d even gone to the adorable little boutique that offered one-of-a-kind merchandise in the hopes of finding a job.
Either no one had anything or they were all still skeptical. Good grief, if she were in LA, Miami or New York she would’ve already been welcomed in somewhere. For one thing, big cities loved to gloat over the fact they had the “it” gossip celebrity in their midst, and another, so much happened in bigger cities her ordeal would’ve already been brushed aside for some other celebrity’s woes.
Not that Corinne wished any of the hell she’d endured on anyone else, but she certainly wished her hometown would at least be a little more open minded. It wasn’t like she was getting ready to whip out her mirror and do a line of coke, for pity’s sake.
What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Apparently that rule was overshadowed by people’s nosy tendencies and the media’s love of stretching the truth into their warped version of a good story.
Corinne grabbed a copy of her resume, which she’d done by herself because if she’d asked Dylan for help he probably would’ve laughed in her face.
Was a part-time job too much to ask for? Just because she had made a good amount of money over the years
And they weren’t too far off the mark.
“You’re a fighter,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll bounce back and you’ll be stronger.”
She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him. “So now I’m a fighter? You still believe I knew about the drugs in my home and you’re calling me a fighter?”
He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed before looking back to her. “I don’t believe you did drugs, Cori.”
“That’s not what I said. I said you believe I knew about them.”
His eyes darted to the mess behind her and he shook his head. “Now isn’t the time to discuss what I do or don’t think. I need to call some friends to come and help get this cleaned up so we can assess the damage better.”
“And you thought I was a coward this morning when I snuck out?” she asked, knowing her blood pressure was rising by the second. “I think spending the night was a mistake. One I certainly won’t make again. I can’t believe I even slept with you twice, knowing what you think of me.”
He crossed the room, grabbed hold of both of her arms and forced her to look at him. “You have no idea what I think of you. If you had any clue, you’d quit poking at me to get inside my head. Do you want my help here or not?”
Honestly, no. She didn’t want his help, but this was her parents’ house and he was the only person she knew who could fix it.
“I’m going to grab some clothes from my room and take a shower,” she told him, stepping back so he’d release her arms. “Then I’m going to see my parents. Whatever you have to do, do it. I’ll also call the insurance and see what the deductible is.”
She moved around him, careful not to brush against any part of him. The man was positively infuriating and she was extremely pathetic to have slept with him, not once, but twice—all the while knowing that he believed at least a portion of the lies the media had spread over and over.
Had her self-esteem really sunk that low, or was she just so desperate to cling to that one bright spot from her old life that she was vying for any attention Dylan was willing to give?
She knew one thing for certain. Once she left this town, she could never look back. Because if she looked back and saw Dylan again, she’d have to just keep ripping off that Band-Aid over and over, and her wound would never heal.
Chapter Ten
Corinne pulled into the lot of the only doctor in town and sighed. This was literally the last office she could apply at. She’d tried the local college in the Office of Admissions, she’d spoken with the CEO of the hospital, whom she’d actually gone to school with, and she’d even gone to the adorable little boutique that offered one-of-a-kind merchandise in the hopes of finding a job.
Either no one had anything or they were all still skeptical. Good grief, if she were in LA, Miami or New York she would’ve already been welcomed in somewhere. For one thing, big cities loved to gloat over the fact they had the “it” gossip celebrity in their midst, and another, so much happened in bigger cities her ordeal would’ve already been brushed aside for some other celebrity’s woes.
Not that Corinne wished any of the hell she’d endured on anyone else, but she certainly wished her hometown would at least be a little more open minded. It wasn’t like she was getting ready to whip out her mirror and do a line of coke, for pity’s sake.
What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Apparently that rule was overshadowed by people’s nosy tendencies and the media’s love of stretching the truth into their warped version of a good story.
Corinne grabbed a copy of her resume, which she’d done by herself because if she’d asked Dylan for help he probably would’ve laughed in her face.
Was a part-time job too much to ask for? Just because she had made a good amount of money over the years
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