Free When Fangirls Lie by Marian Tee Page A

Sweethearts, the woman who took over Julia Roberts’ throne when the latter went into semi-retirement.

    Alan grimaced. “I really don’t get what the boss saw in her.”

    “They grew up together so he probably sees something that others don’t.” It hurt her to say the words, but she felt like she had to defend Staffan.

    Alan nudged her shoulder with his. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

    She shrugged helplessly. “He’s mad---”

    “Bullshit, Sa---I mean, H. You did all this crazy stuff for a reason and now you’re just going to let it go like that?” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

    Donovan nodded firmly. “Get your man back, H.”

    “But I can’t go through those women,” she protested. “They’re like…I don’t know…rattlesnakes and queen cobras and I’m like a---a domesticated worm!”

    Alan took firm hold of her shoulders. “First of all, no sane human being keeps worms as pets. Secondly, you are not a worm. You are a…tigress.” Alan ignored Donovan when his lover looked at him like he was crazy. “Got that, H? You’re a fierce tigress!”

    “A tigress!” Saffi actually let out a roar, carried away by the image in her mind, and made a clawing gesture at Alan.

    Donovan choked on his laughter.

    Alan nodded, straight-faced, even as he dodged Saffi’s clawing fingers. “That’s right. A tigress---like the tiger in Pooh but the female version! You can be strong when and where it counts. You can do this. You’re the smartest girl in the world. If you can’t go to him, make him go to you.”

    Slowly, an idea occurred to her. “I’ll need your help. The two of you.”

    Donovan grinned. “We are at your service.”

    ~~~

    What the fuck were they talking about ? Staffan knew he shouldn’t be brooding about what a certain girl and his two goddamn traitorous backup dancers were talking about. He should be having the time of this life, with all his concerts selling out even before his tour officially began. He was surrounded by beautiful women, all willing to do anything he wanted. He had wealth, fame, and everything else that a man could want.

    So why the fuck did he want to smash the two men’s faces simply by daring to stand close to Saffi?

    And Saffi!

    Damn stubborn girl. What the hell did she want from him?

    His phone rang. The name that flashed on the screen made Staffan’s face harden. He rejected the call without hesitation. He had no time for Chloe’s explanations. As far as he was concerned, what she did said it all.

    When he looked up, Staffan cursed long and fluently at the sight that greeted him.

    Saffi was dancing on the ledge, and his entire crew was cheering for her, chanting just one word that made Staffan stand up so quickly he ended overturning his table, causing bottles to crash on the floor and the women around him shriek in surprise.

    STRIP.

    In seconds, he had shoved his way to the ledge. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled. Had she fucking forgotten she hadn’t even her fucking underwear under his trench coat?

    Staffan was jealous.

    Over her.

    His tone said it all. Surely he couldn’t be faking it?

    Delirious at the realization, she could only smile down at him.

    The dreamy smile on Saffi’s innocently beautiful face practically knocked Staffan off his feet.

    “I was waiting for you to get me.” She bent even lower, her breasts tantalizingly close to his face as she touched his ear with her lips. “I was waiting for you to take what I promised.”

    He couldn’t move fast enough at her words. Staffan pulled her down the ledge in one swift, graceful move while taking care to ensure that no one ever had the chance to see what was – or wasn’t – underneath his trench coat. His heart was beating fast as he made his way to the elevator, with Saffi in his arms.

    One thing he had to say about her: she was great for cardio. With her around, there was always a reason for him to move quickly, his