Perfect Redemption

Twenty Three: In Which She Is A Social Pariah

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       "You know, Blaire," Baxton starts off, "when I said that you were supposed to take care of Jackson, I didn't mean it like this."

He eyes us warily as both Jackson and I take a seat on the sofa in front of him, a little bit shamefully, to say the least. My cheeks burn from the things that both of us did on this couch last night. Jax turns and casts me a devilish grin, and I know he's thinking about it too.

I hug my robe tightly against my body, feeling very naked and vulnerable. Jax stiffens beside me, but his hand reaches out to take mine. He squeezes it tightly, somewhat to give me a little bit of assurance that I might not be getting fired today.

I honestly don't know how I would feel if I were to be fired. I guess it would suck, considering the fact that I won't have enough money to sustain Eden's and my life after the whole thing with the court blows over. But then again, I probably wouldn't miss the job much. All I basically did for the past few weeks was stand around waiting for Jax to finish his interviews and photoshoots, and shoving paparazzi and fans away from him on the streets. It's an easy—if not boring—job.

But if firing me also means that I'll be kicked out of the house, I'm doomed for sure. I would have to find a place to live and that would mean splurging on rent. And guess where that money will come from? The cash that I need to hire a lawyer and gain custody of Eden. I'm not willing to use that money other than for the sole reason that I stole it in the first place.

That and also, it would suck that I wouldn't be living with Jax anymore. I know—I once thought I would never say such a thing. But then again, I also swore to myself that I would never have feelings for Jax. And guess what? I did.

And he's all I can think about. Not being able to see him everyday half-naked in his bunny slippers would be devastating. Truly.

"Well, what did you expect?" Jax says to his dad, his lips thinning. "We all knew exactly how her being my bodyguard would turn out."

Baxton shrugs and looks away, but not before I see a small smile tug on his lips. "That's really besides the point."

"Take a look at this," he takes a stack of magazines from Hunter's grasp and throws it on the coffee table. And the moment I see them, I almost faint.

Most of the front pages of the magazines are plastered with the same picture. It's a photo taken of Jax and I kissing frantically yesterday outside the mansion. And the kiss doesn't look very innocent at all.

His hand is up my shirt and mine are sifted in his hair, and he had me pressed against the door with his weight on mine. I mentally curse myself for being this careless. How did I forget that there would be paparazzi trying to capture our every move? I'm his bodyguard, for fuck's sake. I am supposed to be more cautious about these kinds of things. I look at the pictures with embarrassment and I had to close my eyes briefly to take everything all in.

And the pictures aren't the worst part of the magazines.

Headings plaster over the top of the front pages. Jax Deneris Locking Lips With His Bodyguard! Deneris's Son Slumming It With The Help? First Heidi Klum, and now Jax Deneris—Can't Resist Sexing Up Their Bodyguards! Whitney Houston Would Be Impressed!

"Jesus fucking Christ," Jax leans closer to inspect the magazines. His whole face seems to be growing red, out of embarrassment or anger, or both, I wouldn't know.