Breaking Hearts (B-boy Book 2) Page 20

  I scratched my head. “Um, yeah, I changed it a few years back.”

  “Oh.”

  A few seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched between us. I eyed him curiously.

  He remained standing stiffly near my door and stuffed his hands into his pocket. “Um, you left rather quickly last night. Are you okay?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. Though I wanted nothing more than to vent, I didn’t really feel as if he would be the right person to vent to. Not after how everything went down last night. “Shit happens.”

  “Yeah…”

  I took a deep breath and settled back into my seat, staring at my old friend. Handsome looks aside, there was always something about him that seemed different than most guys. Maybe it was his intensity, the way he always put his best foot forward, or maybe it was the way he seemed to befriend everyone that crossed his path. Looking at him now, I think it was more so his personality—it was sweet, but strong, soft, but hard. Jacob was the X-factor Kurt made him out to be—but he also had the integrity most people in the business didn’t.

  “Jacob, I know,” I said simply, clasping my hands together on top of my desk.

  He raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips in response. “Know what?”

  “Kurt told me about his…um…proposition to you.”

  The color left Jacob’s cheeks, but he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “You make it sound like I’m cheap street hooker—”

  “Jacob—”

  “Or maybe a high paid D.C. escort,” he added with a wink.

  I sighed. “Jacob, I know Kurt has a way to make things look all glittery and pretty, but trust me, his reality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  The smile immediately left his face. “What brought this up? Is this the reason why you left early last night? Did something happen between you two?”

  Even after all these years he had a way of reading right through me. My voice cracked, “No.”

  “You sure about that?”

  My lips twisted into a frown. “Jacob, this isn’t about me. This is about you. I really think you should just walk away from whatever deal you have with him.”

  “And, uh, what deal might this be?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he glared at me.

  I had to look away. “Jacob, I know he wants you to leave your crew and go off by yourself.”

  “And what’s so bad about that?” he asked with little to no emotion in his voice.

  My head whipped back around. “Are you being serious right now? Jacob, you can’t possibly be thinking about ditching your friends.”

  “And why not?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together. “E, you have to understand this is my shot. You do remember how much I wanted to travel, right? I already have a ticket for International—this is my shot!”

  “But not at the expense of screwing your friends!” I shook my head with disgust. “Do you know what I remember? Your integrity. The question I have for you is if you remember it. You keep asking me why I’ve changed, well, how about you? The Jacob I knew would never dick his friends over some golden ticket. He’d stand up for them.”

  Jacob blinked quietly and didn’t respond. After a few moments of silence, I sighed and added, “And if you ask me, I think it’s fucked up you’re going to steal their moves. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  His silence didn’t last long. He quickly jumped out of his seat and growled, “What the hell is wrong with me? What about you?”

  “What about me?” I screeched.

  “Where do you get off throwing these accusations at me?”

  I took a deep breath, trying my best not to raise my voice. “Just tell me it’s not true, Jacob. Tell me Kurt was just telling me this stuff to get me riled up and I’ll drop it.” I lifted my hands, palms side up. “I promise.”

  “Why would he want to get you riled up?” he shot back with suspicion.

  “Just answer the question,” I muttered through pursed lips.

  He groaned and through gritted teeth admitted, “Fine. Yes, it’s true. All of it. Kurt may have approached me to drop my crew and steal their moves.”

  “Jake…”

  “I didn’t say I would,” he offered.

  I nodded my head and let out a stale laugh. “But I bet you didn’t say you wouldn’t.”

  Jacob shook his head and scowled. “What does it matter to you? You of all people should understand.”

  My upper lip raised, nostrils flaring. “What do you mean by me of all people?”

  “Miss Cutthroat entertainment reporter? Don’t tell me you haven’t pushed a few people behind you to get to the top. You probably trampled over them too.”

  My face fell. I had, there was no getting around it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t regret it…especially now. After I left Cal U, I realized all my stupid decisions stemmed because I listened to other people instead of my own heart. When I moved back to Virginia and transferred universities, I made a promise to myself that I’d always put myself first, no matter what. This goal was further amplified when I scored my first writing gig in New York. Needless to say, moving up in the ranks required a lot of no nonsense. It was the reason why I hardly had any friends and the main reason I grasped onto Kurt the moment he showed interest in me. There he was, a gorgeous, ambitious businessman and he wanted me—me! It didn’t hit me until recently that I actually fell victim to the one thing I never wanted to do again—I ignored my heart.

  I pressed my top teeth into my bottom lip, gently grazing the delicate skin. “Jacob, I’ve made mistakes, a lot of them.” I glanced over at the door, behind which I was sure my assistant was packing up her things. “I tried so hard to change from that fearful girl you once knew into someone strong, and in doing so I lost the part of me I held dear. Jake, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  He blinked slowly and frowned. “E—”

  “No, listen to me. Don’t fall in love with the flashiness that New York and Kurt seem to offer. Never lose sight of who you really are. Never let go of the Jacob of integrity. Don’t make my mistakes.”

  He bowed his head for a moment and nodded. “Estelle, I appreciate what you’re saying, I really do. In fact, I admire you for it. The thing is, the crew isn’t the same group of guys you knew from college. We’ve all screwed each other over at some point or another.”

  “Somehow I doubt that,” I snapped.

  “I’ve been screwed by some of the guys before. From taking gigs, stealing some of my runs, and then siding with Gemma…” His voice trailed off and though I leaned forward in expectancy, waiting for him to finish, he kept his mouth shut and I knew I wouldn’t be hearing anything more.

  I sighed and slumped my shoulders forward. “Jacob, don’t let Kurt fool you too. Please.”

  Jacob silently walked around my desk toward me. I gaped and immediately rolled my chair around to face him. After pausing a beat, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and placed a kiss on top of my head.

  “It was nice seeing you again, E. I hope things work out for you like they will for me.” Without another word he dropped his hold on me and spun on his heel, exiting my office. I watched after him, waiting until he disappeared from sight, and immediately glanced at Natalie’s now empty desk.

  “Don’t lose everyone like I did, Jacob,” I whispered. “I know you’re better than that.”

  Chapter 40

  I tapped my fingers rhythmically against my keyboard. As writer’s blocks went, I had the worst kind. Though I was tempted to trash the whole b-boy profile, considering I never wanted to have anything to do with Kurt ever again, my boss, Sully, made it perfectly clear that I needed to write this article or else I’d lose my job. I could still picture his plump, greasy body, bouncing angrily into my office.

  “Estelle, I’ve read your request and I’m sorry, but I have no choice but to reject it. Xtension Management is one of our biggest investors. They want a profile,
you write it. If you don’t, then you’ll be following your assistant out that door. I’ve already turned a blind eye to many of your mishaps, and I’m not going to do it now.”

  I ran the same scenario over and over in my head, but it still had no effect on me. After what happened with Kurt and my bizarre talk with Jacob, I had come to the realization that this job, along with this city, did nothing but make me into a person I was not proud of. Maybe Natalie had the right idea of leaving. Hell, she got away from the likes of me.

  I continued to play the imaginary tune on my keyboard, staring blankly at the screen, which just had one word typed out—Breakdancing.

  Poor Jacob had no idea what he was in for. If he only knew that Kurt’s history of clientele centered around conflict enough to make reality TV blush. First Mara, his singing prodigy, who, come to think of it, went solo too. She did well for a while, but suddenly fell off the map after her flop of a second album. Then there was Dwayne, another singer who rose to the top of the charts before a scandal nearly broke him. Now that I thought of it, he was originally signed to a band too…

  “Fuck me,” I whispered, jumping onto the internet. “Is Kurt a serial group-breaker-upper?”

  I quickly glanced at my office door, jumping up to slam it shut. If Sully wanted a profile, he was going to get a profile.

  ***

  “Thanks, Alana. You have no idea how much I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me…mmhmm…I sure will quote you on that!”

  A wicked grin played on my lips as my gaze lifted, catching the plaque I was awarded for my Broadway article. Its gold plated surface shined from a beam of sunlight, which broke through my window. It was a sign; I was sure of it.

  “Forty-eighth street, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” I snickered as my fingers moved lightning fast across the keyboard; the last remnants of writer’s block completely vanishing.

  I’d be lying if I said this article wasn’t partly a way to get back at Kurt. I also knew I’d probably lose my job for it. However, I really needed to save Jacob from making a terrible mistake. I might have sold my soul to the New York City entertainment industry, but I wasn’t about to let him do so.

  RING.

  I yelped at the sound of my cellphone and scrambled to grab it. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I answered it breathlessly. “Hello?”

  “Estelle? Why do you sound like that?” Despite her interrogation, Mom’s voice automatically soothed me as it always has.

  “Just ran across my office,” I lied. “How are you?”

  “I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, of course! You don’t turn twenty-four every day!” she exclaimed in her sing-song voice.

  My birthday. With all the bullshit being thrown at me as of late I had completely forgotten about it. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I yelped, “Thanks! It means a lot.”

  “So any plans for tonight? Kurt taking you out somewhere special?”

  I shut my eyes. Mom really liked Kurt. Of course he had that certain je ne sais quoi, which gave him the ability to rope people in. As much as I wanted to tell her about the breakup, now really wasn’t the time.

  “I actually have some work I have to finish,” I answered truthfully. “No parties tonight.”

  “Oh, but you can’t be working too hard on your birthday! You need to celebrate. Dad and I actually bought a cake to eat tonight in your honor.”

  My lips trembled, warning of impending tears. I missed my parents terribly and though I’d be seeing them in a few months for the holidays, it really wasn’t the same.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered.

  “I really wish you were back at home, Estelle. I know, I know, it’s a bit selfish of me to say so, given that you’re an adult now with your own life, but I miss you so much.”

  The lump in my throat grew tenfold.

  “I miss you too,” I barely squeaked. I glanced over at my computer and felt a calming sensation rush over me. “But I’ll be home soon.”

  “Oh yes, during Christmas,” she cooed.

  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. “Maybe sooner.”

  Chapter 41

  I called in sick the day the article went live.

  I also left my phone at home and killed time at a nearby coffee shop waiting for everything to blow over.

  Choosing decaf over my regular java, I watched as neighboring tables read their edition of NYC Journal and pulled the collar of my turtleneck up a little bit more. It was a bit cloudy that day, and along with the dim lighting of the cafe, it added to my already dreary mood.

  “Wow, I can’t believe this guy tore Mine-You-It apart! I loved that band!” a college aged girl mused beside me. She flipped through the pages of the magazine hungrily.

  “Yeah, that sucks about the lead singer, Karen. Then again, that’s what she gets for ditching all her friends. Still messed up that her manager blackmailed her into doing it though. That whole ‘you either come with me or I drop all of you’ situation really sucks,” her friend commented.

  “Eh, then again it speaks highly of Karen though. I used to think she was a bitch for leaving her group, but it’s good to know she only left to make sure they didn’t lose representation.”

  “It wasn’t as if they could make it big without her,” her friend pointed out.

  “Still, it’s the thought that counts.”

  I drummed my fingers against my ceramic mug and sighed. After doing some research and really digging into the grime of it all, I found that Kurt had a particular routine he liked to do with all his new clients. It’s a wonder nobody had ever noticed it before! Then again if they did, nobody had the guts to comment on it.

  Then I came along.

  Kurt wouldn’t be “assigned” clients, but he’d request specific groups with a standout member. He’d schmooze them and show them how awesome New York City life was, complete with champagne, VIP experiences, and free swag. Once he gained their trust, he’d pull said member aside and start yoking them up, feeding them thoughts of fame and fortune in their head. Some of these people were naïve enough to bite, willing to throw aside years’ long friendship for a shot at fame, but others—like Jacob, I assume—needed more of a punch.

  Karen Haughtly, former lead singer of Mine-You-It told me a horrific story of how Kurt not only blackmailed her into thinking he’d pull the plug on her whole band, but also threatened to sue them for breach of contract if she didn’t abide by his wishes. The Nebraska native was kind at heart and though she knew she risked losing all her friends, she couldn’t be the cause of them losing out on their dream. So, she did what she thought was best and quit the band. Both parties kept their contracts, but Karen went on to sell platinum records, while Mine-You-et barely sold local shows. Sure, one would think Karen was happy about her decision, but she really wasn’t.

  “I miss my friends. They were all like sisters to me,” she told me. “Samantha, Maddie, Jamesyn—they still won’t talk to me. I’d give all this fame up in a heartbeat if I could!”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Why do you think? Kurt’s making shares off both our contracts and he basically threatened to sue me again if I left before mine ended.”

  “You know you can always countersue for extortion, right?”

  Karen’s voice became muffled on the line. “I…I’ve always been too scared. He has connections, Estelle.”

  “Well, now’s your chance to fight back. Trust it from somebody who knows him well—he will not hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  I shut my eyes and rubbed against my eyelids, not really caring, as I opted to go sans makeup. What was the point? I was already a dead woman walking.

  About four cups of coffee in, two pastries, and one gross tasting salad, I knew I had overdone my welcome. Considering the baristas were shooting me the evil eye as they closed up, I knew I had no choice but to go home. It wasn’t as if the staff would let me sleep there…at least I thought they wouldn’t.

  Stop being ridiculous and just go
home!

  “Bye guys, thanks for keeping me company today,” I chirped as I shrugged into my favorite pea coat.

  The baristas all mumbled some unenthused, “Your welcomes” and watched in irritation as I finally walked out of their shop.

  The November weather was uncharacteristically cold that night. The icy wind blew, hitting me straight in the face and cutting me to the core. I wanted to think the night’s weather was a reflection of how I felt inside—cold and dead.

  Opting to walk the ten city blocks, I pulled the neck of my jacket tighter around me and blew a puff of air out of my mouth. What would I find when I got home? Images of a vandalized door and hate mail flooded my mind. Well, all the worrying was for nothing because as I rounded the corner to my apartment, I found nothing but an empty hallway and a normal looking door.

  I let out a sigh and slumped forward in relief. “Maybe I can get a good night’s sleep after all.”

  “Estelle!”

  I shut my eyes and groaned. “Maybe not.”

  I slowly turned and spotted Kurt stalking his way toward me. The angry curve of his lips and flaring hazel eyes made him look frightening.

  Stay cool. Stay cool.

  “Hello, Kurt.” I raised my chin and stared at him straight in the eyes. Though my anxiety wanted to rear her ugly head again, I quickly pushed her down. It was at that moment I realized that it wasn’t black and white when it came to being a bitch or a pushover. There really was a grey area and that area was called ‘being nice.’

  I curled my lips into a smile. “Can I help you?”

  “Don’t give me that shit, you bitch. You ruined my life!” he growled.

  I took a moment to examine him and noted how torn up he looked, which was very uncharacteristic of him. His usual neat hair stood on end in crazy waves and his normally smooth complexion was splotchy, complete with bags underneath his eyes.

  I gulped. “Kurt, I couldn’t let you get away with ruining yet another career, not to mention another person!”

  He shook his head and smirked. “Just admit that you wrote this article to save Jacob’s ass, you cheating whore.”