Venice Nights by Ava Claire Page A

you think my first name is Guest.”
    “I know your first name,” she said with the slightest of chuckles. “I just felt no need to say it since it’s only a matter of time until some other girl will be standing where you stand.”
    I should have been used to her digs, but her words cut through my armor. I had no comeback. No fight left. I walked to the edge of the pool, crossing my arms as I looked down at the girl reflected back at me.
    My tan had soured, my skin pale and withdrawn. My curls hung like limp noodles around my face. Bags were dark and swollen beneath muddy brown eyes. I was exhausted; tired of ducking the paparazzi, tired of the pep talks I had to give myself after I went online and read a new comment detailing just how strange it was that Jacob and I were dating. Tired of the blank email message where the cursor taunted me, static and waiting for the words that never came. I was not ready to admit that maybe Megan was right when she said this was all happening too fast. I was tired of fighting the voice that still could not believe that out of everyone that wanted to screw his brains, which was every woman alive, Jacob wanted me . I was just tired, right down to my bones.
    “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am just a guest that’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” I shrugged my shoulders, approaching numb and too weak to fight it. But the look on her face wasn’t one of victory. Even with her face half-covered in shade, I saw the pain whipping across her features. Her chin trembled as her lips shuddered, nostrils flaring wildly as she fought to hold back tears.
    “Don’t be stupid, girl,” she said hoarsely, sweeping her hand over her cheek.
    Was she...crying?
    “You know what the two of you have is real. I know it’s real. I’ve seen the way he looks at you before.” She looked down at a lock of hair she was nervously twirling. “Jacob looks at you like Carlton looked at her .” She dropped her hands to her lap, clenching her trembling fingers into fists. “Allegra.”
    I bit my lip, but I could not dull the complete shock that took over my face. She was apologizing to me? Admitting that I was not just the latest in a string of flings? And she was talking about Allegra?
    She rolled her dark eyes at me over the edge of her shades, tearing them from her face. “I know you know about me and Carlton and Allegra. Jacob told me.”
    I pulled my cardigan tighter, a gust of wind making goosebumps pop all over me. I looked down at her. “I know about you and Carlton and your baby.” I paused, a real flash of emotion cutting through me. “I’m so sorry.” Her stony expression didn’t say whether she believed or cared about my condolences, so I continued. “But Jacob doesn’t really know what went on between you and Al, besides the fact that you both...knew Carlton.”
    She let out a bitter chuckle. “There are no virgins here. You can say it. We fucked him.”
    I narrowed my eyes, trying to stop the heat from rushing my cheeks, but I knew they were as red as her bathing suit.
    She nodded at the seat beside her. “Have a seat—this is going to take awhile.”
    I glided over the wet stone, lowering myself into the seat beside hers. She picked up a package of cigarettes, pulling out one and offering me one of my own. I made a face, shaking my head. She ignored my clear aversion to cigarettes and lit up, blowing smoke from her mouth like a chimney.
    “I was the one that introduced them,” Isabella said, tracing her lips with her finger. “Carlton Whitmore was a man who could walk in a room and turn it into a party. He met no strangers. And even though every girl knew that she was one of many, he had a way of making you feel like you were the moon, sun, and stars all wrapped in one.
    I think I waited until the 3rd time he called me up when he was in town before I let myself believe that maybe he really liked me. And I introduced him to my best friend.” Her eyes darkened.