“When did you know who you were?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out, hun.”
“Really?”
“Really. Learning who you are is something you do for the rest of your life. You don’t stop discovering new things about yourself. You’ll reinvent yourself several times over.”
“Huh, interesting.”
“So, how’s Jackson? It appears things are going well?” Her wide eyes showed she was fishing.
I wasn’t biting. “We’re good.”
“Are you being careful?”
My mouth dropped.
“We are not discussing this, are we?” I spat out, horrified.
She looked taken back. “Oh, no. No!” She started to laugh. “I wanted to make sure you’re protecting your heart. You’re my responsibility.”
“I was, Ashley. Eighteen over here.” I pointed to myself.
“Hun, you’ll always be my responsibility,” she added, sounding hurt.
I touched her hand. “I know. I’m being careful. My heart is well guarded.”
“Good. I also trust you to make the right decision when it comes to other protection, as well.”
“I thought we were dropping that subject.”
She gave me a flat smile. “You thought wrong, and you know how important sex can be.”
“Ash! Why . . . augh!” I glanced at the driver with wide eyes, knowing he could hear us, then back to her.
She just rolled her eyes. “I’m backing off. Nevertheless, don’t do anything until you are completely ready. As much as your parents and I would want you to wait, you have to make that call.”
I groaned. “Are you done?”
She squeezed my hand. “I love you.”
“I know. Love you, too.”
I had to hand it to the driver. He didn’t seem to be fazed by anything he heard.
As we sat in heavy traffic due to all the Mardi Gras festivities, I watched as drunken tourists swayed through the crowded, narrow streets.
“I saw your mom yesterday, Lauren. Her new medication seems to be helping, and she’s more alert. She didn’t say anything, but when I asked her how she liked having you back home, she did smile slightly. It’s difficult not seeing her the way she was before: singing, laughing, and cracking jokes. You remind me so much of her.”
“When Blake and I went to visit, she showed no signs. I held her hand while he fed her, but there was no light in her eyes.”
“She’s still drawing on the walls at night. That’s something, Lauren. The doctors think it’s her way of expressing herself. Not sure what she’s trying to depict. They recently installed a white board on one wall for her to draw on.”
“I saw, and the drawings are getting more detailed now that they gave her markers. At first, I thought it was strange, but it’s the only new thing that has happened in years.”
The car was at a standstill, and the music from the bars along the street could be heard clearly though the closed windows. It was all I heard until Ashley asked loudly, “You seem fond of Jackson?”
Where did that come from?
“I am. I said I like him.”
“Why does it seem as if you’re still trying to figure that out?”
One annoying thing about Ashley: she could read me like a book.
“It’s taking me some time to get used to him, his career, everything.”
“Understandable. You’ve seen how their lives are, and it’s not easy. Having any type of personal life is difficult.”
“Only Jackson makes it seem normal. The guys I went out with didn’t have a driver, or expensive sport cars, an assistant, bodyguards, and people waiting on them hand and foot. Other than that, pretty normal.”
We burst out laughing.
“Sounds average and complicated,” Ashley added.
“I guess it’s both, but with him this is as normal as it’s going to get.”
“That makes you sad, hun?”
I didn’t realize I’d sounded bleak. “Not at all. Even though Cary did everything possible to keep me as far away from that part of his life, he paved the way for me to grasp Jackson’s lifestyle.”
“Are you upset that Cary did that?”
It took me a moment too long; Ashley arched a brow.
“I would have loved for Cary to have given me a choice. But, I’m glad I met Jackson.”
Ashley scrutinized me. “Just take your time with this one, Lauren. You have plenty of time.”
“Trust me, I am. Anyway, I can’t see a future with us.”
“You don’t?” She sounded surprised.
There was nothing clear or simple between us, including a future. I was focused on not making past mistakes. Taking things slow seemed to be my only option.
Ashley’s eyes suddenly grew large, and her lips curled up into a sneaky smirk. “How’s Cary? Blake told me he was back in town and staying for a while.”
“Is this fifty questions?”
“We have a lot of catching up. Now answer my question.” She smiled.
I hesitated. “He’s good.”
“I haven’t seen him for a while. I hear he’s doing something with your brother?”
“He’s helping Blake compose, and I think he’s here for moral support, too. What I love about him is that it doesn’t matter if he’s extremely busy, he makes time for Blake.”
“Has he made time for you?”
“Why would he make time for me?”
“Things change. People change. But I would bet you two haven’t changed.” She raised a brow at me.
I countered, “Should I dare ask what you mean by that?”
“I’m sure the way you both act around each other hasn’t changed. When you speak about Cary, it’s different.”
“How?”
“Your voice lights up. I also remember the way you looked at each other.”
“My voice does not light up.”
“If you say so.”
“Ashley, Cary is a good friend. You know that.”
“I do know that. I also saw how you looked at him, and how you hung around a lot when he would visit Blake.”
“I didn’t!”
“You did. I also know you have a scrapbook full of pictures and articles about him.”
“What! Why?”
“Remember Mamaw surprised you with new bedroom furniture. I helped clean up, and collected all your things from under your old bed, and there it was.”
“It’s not what you think. I have one for Blake, too.”
“I saw, but Cary’s seemed, well, worn out.” She grinned before a giggle escaped. Then a full-blown laugh erupted.
“Cary has done more than Blake has, at the moment,” I said with a huff.
“Lauren. Trust me. I completely understand.”
What did that mean?
She had an all-knowing look plastered on her face. I was going to buy a safe and lock up my stuff.
We finally pulled up to a boutique on Canal Street. “Ladies, we’re here,” the driver announced.
Pink chandeliers hung from the ceilings and the walls were covered with white satin. A well-dressed salesclerk, wearing too much make-up, greeted then led us to a dressing room the size of my bedroom. Racks of dresses lined one wall.
“Ms. Moreau, Ms. Adrianna wanted you to have a large selection from which to choose. You can pick any one of these.”
I looked through racks and racks of gorgeous dresses, all different styles and lengths, but the color choice was either red or black.
When Jackson first told me the theme was a vampire’s ball, I couldn’t help giggling. I explained I had a thing for vampires, which made him look at me strangely, as if I were insane.
After I searched through the first set of dresses, without much success, they brought a second rack. With so many choices, it became frustrating to decide on one.
“This is making me self-conscious.” I regarded myself in the mirror.
“Lauren, stop it. You look fine.�
��
My cell phone rang. “Jackson?”
“The one and only, or do you know another one?”
“Nope, just one. Thank Adrianna for me. The dresses are gorgeous.”
“Did you pick one?”
“Not yet.” I sighed.
“I thought you would have trouble with that. I’ll leave you to it. And baby, I can’t wait to see you tonight, and I know you’re going to look stunning in that black dress.”
“What black—”
He hung up.
As if on cue, the salesclerk brought me a large box. I looked at it, then to Ashley, and back to her as she handed it to me.
“Mr. Cruz personally picked this out.”
I stared at the white box and stroked the silk ribbon.
Ashley stood beside me. “Are you going to open it or just stroke it?”
“I’m . . . surprised.”
She smiled and gave my shoulder a tight squeeze. “And you two haven’t . . .”
“Ash!” I glared at her.
I opened the box, and in it was the perfect dress. It was black and strapless with tulle lace cupped in four rows at the start of the bodice. The dress was fitted, full-length, and flared out into a fish tail in the back. The same tulle lace lined the tail under the dress.
It was beautiful, revealing, and hugged every curve. Jackson had obviously done that on purpose.
“Here are your accessories, and Mr. Cruz has taken care of everything.” The salesclerk directed me to multiple boxes she laid out.
The first box had a red and black mask decorated with skulls and rhinestones. I mentioned to Jackson once I liked crosses and skulls; I guessed the skulls won out. It had a handle, so I wouldn’t have to place it directly on my face or over my hair.
The second box had a very chic rhinestone skull clutch bag, and the most incredible shoes. I loved shoes, and he’d picked out precisely what I liked: very high, bright red, including the soles, and classy.
The third box contained a jewelry box with an exquisite jewel encrusted skull ring, and a pair of crystal drop earrings, but no necklace. I looked over at Ashley as I placed my hand over my neck.
“They called regarding any suggestions I could add.” She smiled. “I told them no necklace. You had allergic reactions to them.”
I smiled and picked up my cell.
He spoke before I could say a word. “What do you think, Ms. Moreau?” I could hear his smile through the phone.
“I love them. Thank you. Oh, and you are not paying for anything.”
“Already done. Think of it as an early birthday present.”
“You can give me a cake—preferably chocolate—but I am paying, Jackson, and you’re not here to stop me.”
“I want you to be happy, Lauren.”
“You make me happy, Jackson. Thank you so much.”
I could hear Ashley sighing behind me.
“Gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.” I closed my phone.
Ashley grinned, poking my side as we placed everything back in their boxes.
“Ash, looking at these prices, I think I’m going to have to use my emergency credit card for this purchase. Do you think Victor’s going to mind?”
Victor set up a trust for Blake and me, with different credit cards attached to it. The money was from my dad’s life insurance payout, and Victor was the trustee. While, he personally took care of our living expenses, we had the cards for anything else needed. However, these items were going to be costly.
“Already told Victor to expect the charges.”
“Thanks.”
“No need to thank me. I’m excited to be here to witness your first couture purchase, and spending money on yourself. That’s a first.”
“My first and last couture purchase.”
“You keep thinking that, hun.”
The rest of our day was spent at the spa. One of Jackson’s other surprises. He also set up a relaxation package for Ashley, which definitely impressed her.
Adrianna sent a hair stylist and make-up artist to help me get ready while we were there. I tried to get into it, but it felt odd having someone else do my prep work. Ashley told me to get out of my head and just enjoy it.
When we were done, there were two cars waiting—one to take me to the masquerade ball, and the other to take Ashley home. I wanted her to come with me, but she said there would be others she could attend. She was happy I was going, as it made up for me not going to prom. I hugged her and thanked her for all of her help.
Before the car drove away, she rolled down the window and said gleefully, “It’s time for Cinderella to go to the ball.”
Jackson planned to meet me at the hotel hosting the ball. He said he had to arrive with Zara, and felt he had to reiterate, “It was only for appearance sake.” I knew it was a public event, and I expected us to go in no other capacity than friends. We would have time together when he was done with his press interviews.
Blake was my official escort, and I was relieved when he received an invitation from the studio. The guest list was not negotiable. If you weren’t on the list, you didn’t get in.
Blake walked up to me outside the spa, and he looked fantastic.
“Lauren, you look beautiful.”
“You look pretty amazing yourself. Rented?” I touched the lapels of his shiny gray suit.
“Cary used his connections and had it brought over. We have the good people at Gucci to thank for this loner.”
“Ready to do this, Blake?”
We did a fist bump and slid into the sleek, chauffeured car.
Adrianna told me to expect the press. However, I couldn’t have imagined the circus of photographers and reporters that greeted us, mostly national press. I also didn’t realize we’d have to wait to get out of the car, sitting while other guests gradually exited their vehicles, stepping onto the red carpet.
When it was finally our turn, the driver told Blake to walk around and escort me out, while he stayed in the car. I was nervous since it was my first red carpet moment, but thankfully, Blake had done it before with Cary.
When Blake opened the door, all the camera flashes instantly blinded me. As I shaded my eyes, seeing stars, I noticed Blake seemed annoyed. Someone shut my door and stepped to my side, opposite Blake. I was surprised, yet relieved, when I saw the familiar bald giant, Cliff. It meant Jackson was close by.
Cliff and I had never interacted, even though he guarded Jackson everywhere he went. He was a well-built, African-American man, who never took off the dark glasses that obscured his face.
Cliff directed Blake and me along the red carpet. The energy was epic; the place was truly a circus. Interviews were being conducted every few steps, and the deafening noise from the crowd was jumbled together, except the occasional screams from fans.
High-pitched shrieks of Jackson’s name rang from a corner section. I glanced over and watched as he signed autographs and posed for pictures.
My heart skipped several beats in anticipation as his eyes scanned the area then stopped when they found mine. There was no controlling the gigantic smile displayed on my face. He was looking at me, and it grew bigger when he returned my smile and winked.
He looked extremely sexy, dressed in a red blazer, black shirt and pants, no tie. Several shirt buttons were undone, displaying his tanned skin. He had a skull mask similar to mine in his hand, except his was more masculine.
Jackson made being with him feel natural. When we were together, he was a normal guy. Seeing him in his element, as a movie star, was surreal. Jackson must have noticed the moment of self-consciousness as it crossed my face. He looked concerned, but I smiled and shook it off.
As we continued down what seemed like an endless red carpet, reporters and photographers tried to get us to stop. However, Cliff would step in and direct us to continue until we finally made it through the entrance doors. Blake and I looked at each other and started to laugh. That was exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. I noticed Cliff left as q
uick as he appeared.
Blake and I walked past a pressroom, down a long corridor, to a door blocked by two large bouncers. After showing our invitations, they reminded us we couldn’t take pictures, and allowed us access into the sickest place I’d ever seen.
Black and blue drapery covered the room’s ceiling and walls. The lights were low, and candles illuminated the smoky room, as they flickered to the pounding beat of the house music.
The guests were eclectic, to say the least. People went all out on their outfits. Some were dressed in gothic costumes with elaborate masks; many were beautiful, while others were freaky. One woman had nothing on except a net draping around her body. That was all, no slip, no undergarments, only a red net.
The male servers were shirtless, and others bent over on their hands and knees with food on their backs. Guests were taking food off them as if that were normal.
Everything and everyone was over the top—with well-known athletes and celebrities of all types filling the room. Blake pointed them out to me as he pulled me along the raised dance floor; it was off the ground with panels that changed patterns and colors with each song.
Above the dance floor, on some type of lift, sat the DJ. Partially nude men and women hung from the ceiling doing an erotic style trapeze act.
“Do you see that?” Blake’s mouth dropped open.
A nude woman walked by with a tray of drinks. My mistake. She had a dress painted on her naked body.
“I love this party!” Blake yelled over the music.
I hit him. “Stop drooling.”
“I could get used to this! Lauren, I’m going to get us something to drink.”
I couldn’t explain why instant panic took over, but I grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“You okay?”
I felt strange. Although, that could’ve been from all the second-hand pot smoke I was inhaling. I needed to gain control.
“Sorry. Could you grab me a bottled water, please?”
“Water?”
“Fine, sparkling water with a lime. You should have one, as well.” I nudged his arm.
“No way, open bar. I’ll be back.”
The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1) Page 10
