Page 78 of Taste of Addiction

Collins backs up with efficiency and pulls up to the main entrance where security is already pushing back photographers and reporters. I imagine some were hanging out at the apartment building but could not get access to the parking garage in order to harass us. So, here's their chance.

“Graham?” My voice quivers.

His eyes soften at my unease. “Baby, no matter what anyone says or thinks, I’m yours. Take a deep breath. We are in this together.”

Collins gets out of the driver’s seat while the car idles, opens my back door, and flanks me along with Graham. Both men escort me inside off the street, while obscenities are thrown my way.

“Fuck,” Graham sneers at the group gathered, who are trying to get a new story to take off for the next lineup of entertainment headlines—starring me.

I ignore all of the chanting and questions and comments. I just keep my head low and walk straight into the safety of HH. Is this new layer of chaos going to be my new norm?

Graham turns to one of his building security men and calls him over. “Take Miss McFee up to my office. Make sure she gets there safely while I take care of a few things.”

I start to argue but am quickly silenced by his stern look. I watch as he exits his building.

“Miss McFee?”

From the glass window, I can see him address the reporters and photographers. What is he doing?

“Miss McFee?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s get up to the office,” the guard instructs.

I don’t want to make any problems for him and his job, so I comply. He escorts me to the elevator bank, calls the car, and then presses the number for Graham’s floor. He is smart enough to stay in the lobby so I cannot escape.

When the doors open on the correct floor, I exit and get granted access.

“Hi Kylie,” I say with a wave.

“Good morning, Miss McFee. What can I order you for breakfast?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can just find something on my phone and call it in.”

“Then I wouldn’t be doing my job,” she says anxiously.

I am taken aback that she is that worried over her job. It is just breakfast. “Oh, umm, maybe some home fries? And a hot chocolate.”

She nods and then rummages through her desk. “I’ll have it delivered soon.”

“Can you order Graham something? Maybe a miniquiche and coffee?”

“Of course.”

I walk down the corridor that leads to Graham’s main office and find the door already cracked. I knock—only out of habit—but push it open. Sophia is sitting behind Graham’s desk like she’s second in command and has newspapers and magazines sprawled out on the polished surface. Several televisions are on with the news shows broadcasting their findings.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

She rolls her eyes. “I work here, Angela. What do you think?”

The way she says my name makes me tense. “Last time I heard, you were simply a model. You know, the ones who simply have to wear layers of makeup and then smile. The no-opinions-needed type.”

“I’m not sure why you have such a beef with me.”

“Please don’t play the victim card, Sophia. You have been gunning for me since our paths first crossed and you realized Graham was interested in me."

“It’s a phase.”

---