Gold Star by Shara Meyer

Author:Shara Meyer [Meyer, Shara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-25T10:05:07+00:00

Sitting up and craning forward, she smiled at Brooke.

Brooke grinned back at her, slyly.

Soon afterwards, the stranger watched Brooke gather articles of clothing scattered across the floor. Struck by her own clothing, the hung-over guest was stunned.

“Get dressed,” Brooke instructed authoritatively. “It’s time for you to leave.”

Flustered and disoriented, “Who are you?” The tattooed guest queried.

“No one of consequence,” Brooke answered with a hint of sharpness.

Eyebrows raised, the unwanted guest jumped frantically to her feet. “Can you at least tell me where I am?”

Swallowing a bit of orange juice, “You’re at the Chateau Marmont.” Brooke stated as she noticed the look of confusion on the girl’s face. “Now, get dressed,” she ordered, descending onto a comfortable chair. Not taking her eyes off the attractive red-faced guest, Brooke callously ate her breakfast and watched her sexual conquest painfully put on her clothes.

Clothed and peeved, “Can I trouble you for some cab fare?” The visitor asked.

Frowning, Brooke stood up and reached into her pocket, pulling out sufficient funds. It was enough to transport the guest wherever she needed to go within the city of Los Angeles.

The perturbed groupie grabbed the money out of Brooke’s hand. “Thanks,” she stated icily and coolly walked out of Brooke’s life forever.

Feeling content and sore from the unmemorable night of flagrant decadence, Brooke seated herself in front of a baby grand piano. She began to play, gently in the beginning. Gradually consumed by the music, the fervor increased. Brooke continued playing stirring frenzied renditions of all her favorite classical pieces until fatigue set in.

It was seven o’clock in the evening when Brooke stopped playing.

Soon afterwards, Brooke made herself a fresh cup of hot tea and turned her tablet on. She desired to speak to Rebecca on video chat.

Curled up on an armchair, “Good evening,” Brooke greeted, staring at her despondent manager. She realized it had been five days since they last spoke, the day of Blake Holston’s death. “How are you coping?” Brooke asked in a somber tone.

“Not well,” Rebecca lamented sadly. “It’s excruciatingly painful to bury your baby,” she wailed, her eyes swollen. Rebecca’s cheeks were obviously puffy due to many days and sleepless nights of abject bereavement. “I’m beside myself. I do not know what to do? I could really use some support.” She continued. “I really wish you were here.”

“Me too,” Brooke whispered, blowing on the steaming cup of tea. “However, under the deleterious circumstances with Nicole, and my hectic schedule, I know it isn’t appropriate for me to visit and support you in a manner that is conducive to your well-being.” She explained in a mawkish tone. “It pains me not to be by your side and comfort you in your time of need.”

“I understand,” Rebecca replied, blotting her puffy eyes with a monogrammed lavender handkerchief. “It seems the death of my son has separated the remaining family members.” She stated, sorrowfully shaking her head. “Instead of bringing us closer together, it has driven us apart.”

Curious, “What do you mean?” Brooke queried, eyeing Rebecca suspiciously.

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