by Jillian Dodd
I hear Cooper say to him, “Don’t like what?”
I pull on a slinky dress. I’m sitting on my chaise, putting on a pair of platform heels when both Cooper and Aiden join me in the closet.
“What’s up?” I ask them.
“We’re coming with you,” Aiden says.
“No, you’re not,” I reply adamantly.
“Didn’t you just tell me a few days ago that you’d listen to me?” Cooper says.
“Yes, Cooper, I will consider letting you come with. I will not consider letting Aiden.”
Aiden taps his foot and purses his lips.
“Aiden,” I say. “You promised.”
He runs his hand through his hair, frustrated. “Yeah, I did.”
“Tell me your plan,” Cooper says.
“I’m sure Aiden already told you, but I’m meeting Knox at his hotel. While we have dinner, I will tell him the risks of being seen with me. Then, depending on his reaction, I may go to a club with him. And, hopefully, we’ll be photographed together. It’s all part of my plan, Cooper. Is Vincent in California right now?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“There’s a lot to worry about, but you’re right that I don’t think we have to worry about Vincent in this situation.”
“Awesome,” I say, grabbing a Fendi baguette. “Don’t wait up.”
I walk to my front door as Aiden says, “How are you getting there?”
“His driver should be here to pick me up in a few minutes.”
Aiden pushes me against the door and kisses me hard. “You better be careful.”
“I know you worry about me, Aiden. But I’ll be fine. It’s not really any different than being on set together. It’s just for the cameras.”
“I’m not worried about you and Knox. I’m worried about your safety. You keep talking about a showdown. About how you might not make it.”
“We’re not to that point yet. This is just a little prequel. Something for him to think about while we take over his company.”
He kisses my nose. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll text you.”
“That would make me feel better.”
I kiss his nose. “Good.”
“Using my own tricks against me, huh?”
I give him a smile as I walk out the door.
Knox greets me with cheek kisses, escorts me in, and gives me the grand tour of his hotel residence. It’s gorgeous. Dark wood, modern furniture, lots of glass, steel, and marble. Big, fluffy bed, dining table set with candles.
“Champagne?” he asks.
“I’d love some.”
“Sit,” he says, gesturing to a pair of chairs set in front of an expanse of glass looking out at a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline.
We take a seat as a butler serves the champagne.
“You have a gorgeous view.”
He clinks my glass. “Here’s to sharing something special.”
I lean toward Knox, knowing full well the butler will hear my whining. “Knox, baby, I thought we were going to be alone tonight.”
Knox touches my face and stares into my eyes, much like he did the other day when we ran through some new lines. “Your wish is my command.”
He waves a finger at his bodyguard. “Make yourselves scarce.”
The bodyguard nods and leaves, taking the butler with him.
I’m about to spill my guts when the doorbell rings.
Knox rolls his eyes and goes to the door.
“Our food is here,” he says, looking irritated at the waiter for intruding. “Just set it up on the dining room table.”
The food is set up painstakingly slowly; Knox signs the bill and puts the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
“No more interruptions,” he says, politely holding my chair out for me.
“That’s good. Shall we eat first? The food looks amazing.”
“It is. One of the reasons I’m staying here. So, what’s the deal with you and Aiden? I noticed your new ring.”
I glance at the beautiful ring Aiden gave me in the gazebo. “He just gave it to me.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No. I wanted you to know about my situation before we’re seen together.”
“Your situation?”
“I have a stalker.”
“Don’t we all? The one here almost had someone at the front desk convinced she was my sister, that I was in danger, and she needed to check on me. I think she’s pitched a tent outside, so she’ll know if I leave.”
“Mine is a little more than that. His name is Vincent Sharpe.”
“I know that name. He does, um—movie futures, right? And, oh, I know, he was doing that nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston.” He pauses and stares at me. “That’s a weird coincidence.”
I take a big drink of champagne. “Knox, I don’t know you very well yet. And I want to trust you. Can I trust you?”
“I’m not my image. You know that.”
I nod and keep going. “Vincent is a long-time fan of my mom’s, although Mom never knew who he was. He was just someone who sent her sweet stuff over the years, starting not long after A Day at the Lake released. He had a rough childhood, but was taken in as a young teen by his grandmother, a former film star, and sent to the finest schools. He inherited money when his mom and her—I think—sixth husband were killed. He took that money and invested it in a small production company. One that owned the rights to A Day at the Lake. Since then, he’s built up the company and become known as a movie futures golden boy. This past spring, we believe, he got into my mom’s trailer on set and left her a gift. We also believe he took a photo of me and Mom from a Hawaiian vacation. We were on the beach, both in bikinis. The theory is that he saw the Abby he fell in love with in that photo. Me. After that, I met him. He told me he wanted to make a movie with me. We became friends, sort of. I had dinner with him. Invited him to my birthday party. Where he tried to kidnap me.”
“Kidnap you? Why isn’t he in jail?”
“It was my birthday party. I’d been drinking. He’s rich and good-looking. He said it was just a mistake. That he’d been trying to help me. The police didn’t have enough evidence to charge him. But he had a van out back with drugs and restraints. He told me we were going to make the movie together. Even after it all happened, part of me still didn’t believe it. Like, did I make a mistake? Mom had just finished filming To Maddie, with Love, and we think those sex scenes set him off. He started calling her a whore. He put a threatening note in my little sister’s backpack. And his grandmother, who he idolized, passed away. Hell, I even helped him spread her ashes on the beach. But that same night—the night of my party—after I was back home, he broke into my boyfriend’s house, took one of my bikinis, and left a packet of pictures for my mom.”
“Your mom was smoking hot in that film. I loved it. So, what were the pictures of?”
“Me. He’d been following me and taking photos for months. I had no idea. Everyone freaked out. They thought about putting me in a witness protection program but ended up sending me to boarding school. They made me leave my friends without telling them a word. Set me up with a different name. I had to lie about who I was. They said he’d forget about me. But he hasn’t. He broke into rehabs trying to find me. He messaged me on my old Facebook page. He showed up at my ex’s surf tournament. He followed my mom shopping in New York City and accidentally found me. I was lucky to have gotten away. He almost got me in Miami when I saw Damian. He sent photoshopped pictures to my mom where Tommy’s head gets blown off. After my ex won his first pro surf tournament and dedicated it to me, he got the same type of photo. And the nationwide search . . .”
“He was trying to find you.”
“Yeah. And it almost worked. Both my drama teacher and a friend offered to nominate me. But that’s not the worst of it. The guy who did my tattoo was murdered after Vincent got a matching on
e. I went to the club where he always goes looking for me and danced in a cage to piss him off. The next week, a girl from the club was murdered, her body stabbed with scissors. After the New York incident, he sent a photo of me to my mom. The photo was stabbed with scissors. Going back to the club in L.A. was the start of me fighting back. I’m also trying to do a hostile takeover of his company. If that works out, I’ll own the rights to the movie he so desperately wants us to make. And when that happens . . .”
“He’ll really be pissed?”
“Yes. And anyone close to me will be in danger. That’s why I needed to talk to you in private. I want to make sure you understand the risks of being photographed with me.”
“You want to be photographed, though?”
“Yeah. It’s part of my plan. I’m hoping to take his attention off the people I care about by allowing him to focus on me. Up until now, he’s been meticulous in his planning. I want him desperate, so he’ll start making mistakes. Then maybe we can get the proof to have him arrested.”
“Do you want him to find you?”
“For now, I just want him to see photos of me from the night before.”
“So a different club every night?”
“Different club. Different cities. Different guys, even.”
“Basically, my plan, only with higher stakes.”
“Yeah.”
Knox grins at me and cuts a piece of his steak. “Eat up. Our food is getting cold.”
I take a bite of the lemon chicken pasta he ordered me. “This is really good. What are you thinking?”
“I’m letting it all soak in first.”
“Okay.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes. Then he asks, “So, what about Aiden?”
“I don’t want him to find out about Aiden.”
“So you won’t be photographed with him?”
“No.”
“So you need me?”
“Not exactly. You would just up the stakes a little.”
“How so?”
“I’m shooting a music video with Twisted Dreams this week.”
“That’s Matt Moran’s son, right?”
“Yes. Damian is my best friend. The video will premiere on New Year’s Eve. I’ll be Keatyn Douglas again.”
“Do you act slutty in the video?”
“I’m in a bikini for most of it because it’s set at the beach. There are a lot of similarities between the video, my real life, and A Day at the Lake.”
“Nice. I’m in, by the way. We’ll be careful. Make some noise. See what happens.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hell yeah. You’re practically Hollywood royalty, sugar. I’d be stupid not to have a fake affair with you. Besides, the more press we get together, the more people will want to see our movie.”
“Unless you end up dead.”
“I have a bodyguard. You have a bodyguard. Surely, they can keep us safe.”
“The paparazzi know where you live.”
“It will be fine. Finish your food. Drink up. Then we’re gonna party Knox-style.”
I drink the rest of my champagne then laugh. “You have your own style?”
“Yep. Be prepared.”
“You better like to dance.”
“I love to dance. By the way, what does Aiden think of this? Is he going to be pissed at me?”
“He understands what I have to do to get my life back. But he really doesn’t like it.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t want to come with. Even just to watch out for you.”
“Oh, he did.”
“But you’re stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. He knows if he pushes me, I’ll be gone and he won’t see me until this is over.”
“Do you like the champagne?” he asks, filling up my glass.
“It’s good champagne,” I reply.
“If you had your choice, would you drink it at the club?”
“I don’t usually sip champagne in the VIP section, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He looks at his watch. “Thank god. I’ll only deal with girls like that if I’m gonna get laid.”
While he grabs his wallet, I text Aiden, who I know will relay the information to Cooper.
Me: He’s in. Headed to a club. ifly.
Hottie God: Be careful. ifly2.
“I just realized something,” I tell Knox as we’re being driven to the club.
“You’ve fallen madly in love with me?” he says with a mischievous grin.
“Afraid not. It just hit me that all my life I’ve been taught to avoid the cameras and the places paparazzi hang out. How do you know where to go? What if we go and they aren’t there? This will be a waste of time.”
“You will never again say time spent with Knox Daniels is a waste. You will ruin my well-honed reputation.” He pats my hand. “You have a lot to learn. It’s cute. Tonight you will watch and learn from the master.”
“But how do you know they’ll be there?”
“My assistant tips them off. They all think I’m a horrible boss and she’s on the take.”
“So, she tells them where you’re going to be?”
“When I want them to know, yes. The first club we’re going to allows them inside. Photos will be taken of us when we arrive and when we’re on the dance floor. They usually don’t allow them in the VIP section, but the staff talks to them. So, if you want people to think we’re together, you’ll need to act like it the whole time.”
“Sources at the club say the couple were dancing closely and seen canoodling in the VIP lounge. They barely looked at me when I took their order, a waitress says. They only had eyes for each other.”
“Exactly,” Knox says with a laugh. “After we are seen canoodling, we’ll go to another club. We’ll let it slip that we’re headed there next, but it’s much more private. We can just have fun. It’s when we leave there that will matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are we drunk? Are we kissing? Do we look high? Are we in a fight? Am I taking you home? Are we going back to my place?”
“I clearly didn’t think far enough ahead.”
The car pulls to a stop. “You ready for this? I’ll get out of the car, put my hand inside to help you out, being the gentleman that I am. Come out slowly. Let them get a glimpse of those luscious, long legs first. Then gracefully get out of the car.”
The photographers are there, just like Knox said, and we do exactly as we planned.
Sort of.
Once I’m out of the car, the reporters yell, “Who’s your date tonight, Knox?”
Knox slides his hand down the side of my face and under my chin, gently raising it upward as the cameras flash.
“All I’ll say is she looks a whole lot like her mother.”
I decide to give Knox and the cameras the works, moving the corners of my mouth upward, curling my lips into a little smirk, and then giving them the full smile that people say is just like my mom’s.
He shakes his head at me, leans in, and whispers loudly, “Beautiful.”
I toss my head back just a little and laugh, like he said something funny, as he grabs my hand and pulls me into the club, his bodyguard leading the way.
Even though I know Vincent is in California, I still find myself on edge, searching faces for one that looks like his. Looking for someone who might be watching me a little too closely.
A guy in a suit leads us to the VIP area that rings the dance floor and is very visible from the rest of the club. Our section will seat a party of twenty, even though it’s only the two of us. There’s a chilled bottle of Don Julio waiting for us along with a full bottle service set up.
We haven’t even sat down before a group of girls bounce over, calling out Knox’s name. The VIP bouncer stops them by putting up his thick hand. “I’m sorry, ladies. You’ll have to leave.”
“But we partied with him last week,” a pretty brunette pouts. “Knox!” she says again. “It’s Marcy, remember?
”
Knox surprises me when he leaves my side and joins her.
“Marcy,” he says, giving her air kisses. “Of course I remember. Have you ever met Keatyn?”
The girls don’t look thrilled, but are polite as he grabs me, kisses me square on the lips, and then drags me over to meet them.
“Ladies, this is Keatyn Douglas. Bet you can’t guess who her mom is.”
It’s then when I realize why he talked to Marcy.
And that I should play along.
I lay my hand on his chest, pushing away from him just like my mom does to Tommy. It’s adorable because she never leaves his arms. Then I use her voice. Older, more mature, with a slight southern twang to it. “These girls don’t care who my momma is.”
Marcy’s smile fades. “Oh. My. God. You sound just like Abby Johnston.”
I roll my eyes at Knox like I’m irritated he spilled the beans then give him my pout. “Knox, baby, I thought it was going to be just us tonight.”
He hugs me tighter, kisses my neck, and says sexily, “Oh, it most definitely is,” as his bodyguard stands shoulder to shoulder with the VIP bouncer and says, “Sorry, ladies.”
Knox sits down and pulls me onto his lap, snuggling with me. “Am I good or what?”
“You’re devious, that’s what you are.”
“Shots, then dancing?”
“Absolutely.”
He raises a finger and a waiter rushes into our section. “We’ll have some tequila shooters.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Daniels,” the waiter replies, pouring shots and lining them up in front of us.
Knox clinks my glass with his and we down the first shot, then the second.
“Let’s dance.”
He leads me out to the dance floor and pulls me into his arms.
It’s at this point I realize that sometimes I’m not very good at pretending.
Because sometimes my real life gets in the way.
And it’s because I’m not dancing with Aiden.
As much as I want to pretend that I’m into dancing with Knox, I’m just not.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
