Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) Read online

  I applied tinted moisturizer, pink gloss and just enough mascara to bring out my bright green eyes with a burst of gold popping out of them. It was one of my best features. Even if I felt like death inside, I needed to look at least presentable. It was part of my coping mechanism I learned when I was ten years old. Always look put together.

  My golden-brown skin can be credited to my Brazilian/Caucasian mixed heritage. Spritzing my signature Coco Mademoiselle, I grabbed my tan Botkier tote and headed towards where Blake was patiently waiting for me.

  I found him in the kitchen on the phone. He turned around and gave me a swift examination before ending the call. “Ready?” politely asking me, still rooted to his spot.

  “Yep.”

  “To breakfast, milady,” holding out his arm to link with mine.

  I smiled stupidly at him as we walked out the door and straight to the elevator.

  “Figured anything out yet?” I questioned, referring to ‘his plan of action.’

  “Sorted as promised—but it’s a surprise…” looking impish and smug, I nudged him.

  Ding.

  We got out of the elevator and headed towards the main entrance. “You have got to be joking! Why does it have to be a surprise? I hate surprises!” I exclaimed. I do hate surprises because surprises are horrible, every single time.

  So, I was a tad skeptical about this one.

  “You did agree to trust me… remember poppet?” gazing at me with a playful smile as the sunshine accentuated his beautifully sculpted features, making him look annoyingly sexy as we hit the sidewalk.

  A few women who passed by stared openly at him. A harried woman stopped, halting in her tracks, awed and just ogled—previous destination long forgotten—as she was rooted on the cement sidewalk.

  Yeah, yeah he’s hot. So, What? I wanted to snap that woman out of her trance.

  Don’t get me wrong; I adore Blake. I think he’s smart, articulate, funny, crazy talented and has a heart of gold (reserved for those he trusts). But it can be exhausting to be his friend. Lucy has the same problem. We are the only women that Blake is friends with. So, we get hounded for trivial information. Anything, to help them out they say. “Right, if Blake really wanted a woman, he’d pursue her relentlessly, not the other way around,” spoken out of Lucy’s very lips.

  I go to a Fashion School (majoring in Fashion Marketing), and of course, the women there asked me about him after he picked me up once from school. He was parked on the curb and leaning deliciously on his sexy car—that alone drove questions from six—Six!-adult, grown women who had their panties twisted. The girlfriends I brought from school to party with us, a few times, brought hysterics. Like “OMG, have you SEEN that ASS?” or “HOLY FUCK! He’s GORGEOUS!” or “Shit, Sienna, can you hook me up?” There’s more, but I don’t want to elaborate any longer; it’s taxing on my precious sanity. Blake of course, never hooks-up with any of them because they aren’t lingerie model material.

  Glancing at him, I shrugged.

  “Yeah, right.” I said, thinking that this surprise better not suck or I was going back to my bed to wallow, sleep and wallow some more.

  Jet lag, thoughts of Kyle… what else?

  Kyle… did he know I left home? Home is Los Angeles for me and where Kyle is. My best friend, my protector….my first love, my first everything—before he totally broke my heart almost a month ago when I got that call.

  Kyle and I practically grew up together. He lived a few houses down from me. We were each other’s strength ever since we were seven years of age and we never grew apart—until I left for school in London. After a few months, he started being distant and reluctantly talked to me over the phone and when he did, he was nonchalant. I explained his attitude with viable reasons such as he missed me or he couldn’t stand having me so far away from him and all. So, I ignored it.

  Wanting to bridge the wedge between us, I decided to surprise him. I had a two-week window in between semesters so I could easily visit him. But before I booked the ticket, he called me.

  I was the one surprised.

  That call shattered everything that I believed Kyle and I had; that we were invincible. He told me that he met someone else and he had been seeing her for a month. He justified his actions by stating that it was too difficult without me there and he was lonely.

  Lonely?!

  Two years of being together and best friends since the age of seven, thrown out the window because he was lonely?! What a cruel joke.

  Of course, Luce, Chad and Blake consoled me and all three begged me to forgo my trip to Los Angeles. They argued that he wasn’t worth it and I might just end up regretting the decision. But I held my ground and still managed to book that blasted airline ticket.

  I wasn’t a coward and I needed to see it for myself.

  To hear him say it, I needed him to say it.

  Tell me, that it was over.

  Guiding me to the parked Black One 77 Aston Martin on the curb, he opened the door and let me in. The heady perfume of leather and Blake’s signature aroma annihilated my nostrils.

  My stomach churned; I love his smell. It’s a unique mixture of lemon aftershave and his skin.

  Opening his door, he slid to the black leather seat next to me. He pulled out his aviator shades and started the engine, pulling into traffic towards Piccadilly. Some of his hair fell on the side, looking like a sinful sleek rock God, in control and dominating.

  What’s with Italian men and glorious hair, anyway? Even if he’s only half Italian—he’s certainly got the coloring and the hair thing going on.

  I can’t help my thoughts sometimes. My reaction towards him comes naturally. He’s just too damn sexy.

  “Did you sleep at all last night?” looking at him to see his facial expression.

  He smirked, “No, not really.”

  I frowned at his answer.

  “But…why? You could’ve confronted me in the morning, Blake—why the need to show up that late?” I was nursing my ego, pride, and my heart, but certainly not suicidal.

  Blake exhaled deeply, his voice dark. “I needed to see with my very own eyes that you were not crying into oblivion or drowning in alcohol—I was worried. It didn’t help that you were alone in the flat and I reprimanded Lucy for leaving you in the state that you were in—even if she argued that you wanted to go straight to bed.” He looked so serious and started to get angry again.

  “It’s not Lucy’s fault that I showed up unannounced a week earlier than arranged and besides, they had planned a trip to Turkey. I wasn’t about to have her stay back here because I had my heart broken? That’s ludicrous! She was worried but I convinced her to leave—to leave me alone. I needed to be left alone last night and I think deep down she knew that—it was what I needed.”

  Blake looked pensive and seemed not to buy my argument.

  I tugged at his shirt.

  “Blake, you can’t seriously be mad at Lucy? She didn’t do anything wrong,” I was adamant that he believed me. I wasn’t going to let him be mad at Lucy and he knew it too. He was just trying to drive me insane. They are my friends and they mean a lot—I consider them like family.

  Taking my hand, linking his fingers with mine and placing both of our hands on his thigh, he spoke.

  “I hate seeing you hurt, Sienna. You’re one of my best friends and I cannot endure you being shattered and vulnerable. You always had this easy going, happy attitude about you and after you got that call about two weeks ago—you’ve changed. I know you’re hurt, poppet. But let me help you—ease some of the pain? You’re not alone in this. If the situation were reversed, you would do exactly the same thing for me. Let me take care of you—until you’re better.”

  Surprised and astonished by his speech, I gathered my dumbfounded brain to make a response. How lucky am I to have a friend like Blake? I know he doesn’t let a lot people in his private domain. He’s selective with his friends. He doesn’t talk much about his family, but from what I had gathered from Tob
y, to those he let in, he’d be their friend for life. Sort of like ‘til-death-do-us-part’ type of loyalty.

  Blake sounded too serious and I needed to lighten up the mood.

  Quirking my left eyebrow at him I asked, “Ease some of my pain, Knightly? Wonder how easily you can manage that! Tell me where and when and I’ll show up, milord.” I wore a seductive smile as I flicked my lashes at him, going for the full effect. Yeah, sucker!

  He flashed his magnetic smile as he swiftly parked the car and killed the engine, giving me his undivided attention. “Frisky, are we today, my sweet?” he drawled, brushing subtle strokes on my arm that still held his right hand.

  Ha, I see how you’re going to play this. Two can play that game.

  “¿Cuánto me quieres, papi?” Papi means daddy, but it was widely used as an endearment in other Spanish speaking countries, mostly in a sexual situation.

  How much do you want me, papi? I purred at him knowing full well he spoke fluent Spanish amongst other languages.

  I leaned over him, inhaling his smell and whispered seductively, “Te deseo, papi—dentro de mí,” pulling back, biting my lip and gazing at him through my lashes for the full-effect.

  His chiseled jaw dropped.

  I want you, papi—inside me.

  The air crackled, heavy with arousal. I felt him hold my hand tighter.

  He swallowed hard and groaned.

  Okay. I kind of over did that, but I couldn’t help teasing him. I just wanted to see if he would take the bait, and he did.

  I busted out laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was just too intense; I had to figure out a way to diffuse the weird situation I had gotten myself into. Laughing always seemed to work.

  “I’m sorry; I got carried away. I couldn’t help teasing you—the opportunity was there and I just had to grab it!” I smiled at him with pure innocence.

  He laughed too, his throaty sexy laugh. “Woman, you almost gave me a heart attack! That was some sexy stuff you just pulled. You’re lucky I didn’t take the bait and have my wicked way with you!” With a sexy wink, he opened his door to get out of the car.

  He went to my side, opened the door and offered his hand to help me out. Chivalry’s always alive and kicking with Blake and Toby. I’m lucky to have found Lucy as my flatmate, and to have made very good friends with those two caring men, Blake especially.

  “Did you make a reservation?”

  “Don’t worry about anything. I got it handled.” Blake said reassuringly.

  I nodded. I was sure he did. I mean—do men like him need reservations, anyway?

  “Mr. Knightly, how lovely it is to see you again. How is your grandfather?” questioned the maître d', a middle-aged man wearing a suit and thick glasses, as he ushered us to our table.

  “He’s lovely, thank you.” Blake responded casually, placing his hand on my back as we headed to our table.

  “Here we are! Let me know if there is anything that I can do for you, Mr. Knightly. Good to see you again. Enjoy.” He said enthusiastically, looking at Blake and then me.

  “Thank you, Gerard.”

  Gerard gave a light nod, smiled towards me and stealthily left our table.

  I know his granddad and him come here often. Blake adores his grandfather. He took him in when Blake was ten years old, after both of his parents tragically died in an avalanche in the Swiss Alps while skiing on their wedding anniversary. I met his grandfather, William, once during my visit to Blake’s flat in Mayfair when his grandfather decided to give him a surprise visit. He was charming and engaging. From the affectionate way they interacted, I know they love each other deeply. I’m happy for Blake because even though tragedy struck him, he still has a loving family member to care and support him unconditionally, unlike me.

  “I’ll have Eggs Benedict and a cappuccino, please.” I didn’t need to look over the menu. I knew what I wanted.

  “A woman with a hearty appetite, I like that,” I snorted and laughed. Ha! I’m sure you do.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  He raised a brow, curious and waiting. “ANNND?”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s just—you know—you only date models or ones that look it, and I bet those types hardly eat or simply nibble at their food. I’m sure.” I said sarcastically. Why does he date only women that look like that? I didn’t peg him to be a shallow man—but then again, I supposed his libido made the decisions.

  I was curious and wanted to know the truth.

  “I do not!”

  I shrugged, not wanting to argue.

  After the waiter came and took our order, Blake had to go outside to take a business call. I was left to my own devices, so I pulled out my phone and texted Jen. I let her know that I got back okay, that she shouldn’t worry about me and I would call her as soon as I got a chance. She was a good friend from back home and was one of the people in my support system.

  She was there with me when I saw Kyle with his new girlfriend. Thinking about that made my stomach churn and burn with acid.

  Fuck.

  The bitch gave me a smirk and held Kyle’s arm, looking at me with a scornful expression. I didn’t go back there to steal him from her. I just needed closure, but got more than I had bargained for.

  Three

  Saturday,

  Santa Monica,

  Katie’s Beach House Party

  (8 days ago)

  “What’s your choice of poison?” The uber hot bartender asked, wearing only surfer shorts and a garter bowtie to complete his ultra-surfer look. Hot might be understated, more like scrumptious. Exotic with caramel eyes and a to-die-for smile accompanied with perfect teeth.

  I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Um, I’d like a lemon drop and a…?” I trailed off glancing at Jen.

  “What would you like to drink Jen?”

  “I’ll have sex on the beach, babe.” she said with a wink. I’m sure she just wants that with a little sand and soft waves. Flirt.

  He started setting up our drinks as I pulled Jen next to me. She was still looking at the bartender through her eyelashes and I knew right then and there that she had already set her sights on him.

  “Jen, we just got here, can the flirting wait? I kind of need you to stick with me tonight. I sort of need armor, or more like a shield,” I said with an antsy smile and pleading tone.

  “Doll, you can’t be seriously hung up on Kyle still, are you?” Jen asked accusingly, her brows in a straight line.

  “Umm… well, I don’t know… I want to talk to him…”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? He cheated! You can’t second guess that sweetie. He’s moved on and from what I’ve heard, things have been getting steady and serious.”

  That did sound like a very good point.

  Steady and serious. Huh. Wow. How could he do this to me? To us?

  I wanted to scream and lash out at him, but it wouldn’t change what he did. I guess, he didn’t want to wait; he wanted a change. I was hoping to catch him tonight and talk. I didn’t try calling his phone because I wanted to see his face, if he could say it to my face. I needed this closure, so I could bury the hatchet forever and never look back with regret. I needed a clean slate, no doubts hanging about in my semi-lucid brain.

  I knew he was going to show up; he always shows up at parties and I don’t doubt that his ladylove will be with him too.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter… just hang with me for a bit okay? I promise to take you for fro-yo tomorrow,” I said as I avoided her question. I cannot answer that myself at this moment. This was our always go-to place second to Starbucks.

  “Here you go Ladies! Enjoy!” Purred the hot-tender.

  “Thanks,” we said, synchronized.

  “Okay, I’ll stick with you for awhile but not long. I don’t want someone else snagging that nice piece of meat before I do! God, have you seen that tight body?” Jen delightfully noted, glancing once back to the bartender before heading to the beach wh
ere some people we know from high school were located.

  “I want to just drag him somewhere dark and see if those lips live up to my imagination! Do you think he’ll be into me?”

  I glanced at her like she had two horns on her head. “Have you gone mad hon? You know you’re a knockout right? Besides, he was totally checking you out.”

  Seriously, sometimes I think she doesn’t really know how beautiful she is. This part of Jen was the doing of a stupid, selfish ex-boyfriend who mentally and emotionally derided her, and she totally succumbed to the douchebag’s manipulative ways because she was blinded by love.

  In love or not, a person doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. This type of abuse can take a long time to recover from. Had I known this in the beginning, I would’ve snatched her away from Tony. But for three years, she never said a word about any of it. From the outside, everything seemed so perfect. Everyone always thought they were perfect for each other. I did too; I adored Tony. That’s why when she confessed her dilemma, I took charge and let her stay with me until everything blew over, and until Tony realized that she was serious about leaving him. Our senior year, she started to blossom into her own person and has been loving life ever since.

  Most men I know have a hard time resisting Jen when she’s on the prowl—there is no chance in hell her chosen man can escape. Who would really want to resist someone who resembles Heidi Klum in the looks department? Apart from Jen having killer looks, she has a sharp mind and she’s currently studying at USC to be a lawyer. She’d make a killing out of that one.

  “Jen! Sienna! Good of you beautiful ladies to grace us with your presence tonight!”

  “Mickey! I’ve missed you!” I laughed and gave him a huge hug and a peck on the cheek.

  Mickey’s the kind of guy who is always nice and respectful. He’s second generation Samoan and has the size of one too. He played defense on our football team at Notre Dame High School in Sherman Oaks. You’ll never catch him talk crap about other people. Jen and I adore Mickey, everyone does.