After drawing for twenty minutes, she realized the model in the suit she had drawn unconsciously was Byron. She threw her pencil down and crumpled up the design.

“Get out of my head.”

Then the burning pain in her neck hit her hard. She gripped her head between her hands, and shouted, “What is happening to me?”

Chapter Fifteen

The intense pain subsided, as it always did, but came back with unnerving regularity. Amelia didn’t want to go to a doctor, because deep down she knew it wasn’t something that medicine could help her with. It was something that, like her broken heart, she would have to live with.

Amelia didn’t want to think about it deeply, so she threw herself into her work for the rest of the week. It felt good to be back to her one love that never let her down and always occupied her mind in times of trouble—tailoring.

It was Friday, the end of the workweek, and she was conducting her last appointment of the day. It was a first fitting with the famous Hollywood actor, Joel Hawk. The fitting should have only taken an hour at most, but due to the fact that he had never worn a suit in his life, fidgeted and complained about almost everything, and tried to flirt with her constantly, they were now two hours in.

Finally finished with the suit adjustments, she was now unpinning the pieces of material from him. While she unpinned the arms Joel said, “How would you like to join me at a club tonight? I’m on the VIP list.”

Joel swept his hand through his midlength sand-coloured hair, with a smug smile that wasn’t expecting a no. Amelia knew millions of straight women who would give their right arm for the chance, but she was not straight and, to be honest, after having been the girlfriend of a flash and glam billionaire banker, a Hollywood actor didn’t really excite any more.

“I’m sorry, but I have plans.” She wasn’t lying. Victorija was taking her out to a club.

“Honey, listen. Whoever else you’re going out with is not Joel Hawk. Joel Hawk is the best offer you’re going to get this lifetime.”

Amelia took the pieces of material, turned away, and rolled her eyes at his arrogance. “I’m sure you think so, but you’re not my type, Mr. Hawk.”

She turned around and saw a look of astonishment on his face.

“I’m everyone’s type.”

“Sorry, but I’m gay. So—”

A sly grin spread across his face, and then he took a step towards her. “I could change your mind.” Amelia found herself pushed up against the dressing room wall. “Turning lesbians is my special skill.”

Panic started to set in at first, but then anger rose inside her. How dare this greasy little actor make her feel uncomfortable and try to aggressively pursue her.