I nodded and left with him. I hadn’t seen him since the party, and now I realized how much I’d missed him.
Our trip to my place was silent, but we seemed to be communicating a lot anyhow, mostly on the subject of what we’d meant by ‘later’ and whether today was the day.
When he walked me to my apartment, I opened the door and let us in, then stood facing him in my foyer. He reached out and touched my cheek like he had after the party, his eyes searching my face, and the same amazing sensations rose in me.
I moved closer, smiling at how good and right it felt to be near him, and slipped my arms around his neck, and he smiled and moved closer too.
Still smiling, we kissed for the first time.
His mouth was cool and sweet on mine, tasting of the chocolate cake we’d had for dessert, and he kissed me gently but deeply.
I kissed him back the same way, loving every second of it, and our kiss lasted a long time before we eventually parted.
I pressed my face to his shoulder, wanting to be closer to him. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Definitely.”
I giggled, pure happiness flooding me for the first time in I didn’t know how long. Nothing, no kiss I’d ever had, had made me feel like this. Being in his arms felt perfect, like I belonged somewhere for the first time ever. “Wow.”
“You said that already.” He kissed my hair. “But I agree. So...” He drew back enough to look at me, and a flash of excitement shot down my spine at the emotion in his eyes. “I want to do that again. And...” He swallowed. “I want to be your boyfriend. If you’d have me.”
“Can’t think of anything I’d like more,” I said, smiling up at him, then smiling even wider at the happiness on his face.
He kissed me again, shorter but still perfect, then said, “I think, though, that I should talk to Kent before we tell everyone. And I don’t think tonight or tomorrow is the right time for that.”
I nodded. “He’s got other things on his mind.” Hoping Kent wouldn’t have horrible things on his mind tomorrow forced away some of my joy but I buried my face in Ron’s shoulder again so he wouldn’t notice.
He cuddled me against him. “Yeah, and then the honeymoon too... so I was thinking we could be friends tomorrow, and then once he leaves we can be whatever we want to be but on our own. And I’ll tell him about it when he gets back. Is that okay? I’m not wanting to hide you or anything like that, I just feel--”
I had to laugh. “Like he might not want to get told on his wedding day that his ex-wife and his brother are getting together? I think that’s probably true. And proof that you’re sweet.”
He chuckled. “Not as sweet as you.”
He leaned in and kissed me again, and I kissed him back while wishing with all my heart that by the end of the day tomorrow this would still be the biggest issue in Kent’s life.
Part Two
Chapter Twenty-Four
When the taxi driver got me home after I’d fled the wedding, I managed to hold myself together long enough to get out of the car and into my apartment. Once there, though, I fell onto my couch and completely fell apart as my exhaustion and sadness took me over.
I’d tried so hard, so stupidly hard, to fix my mistake. Of course I shouldn’t have told Simon any details about the wedding, but I had genuinely not realized Kent and MC were going to turn down a million dollars for its coverage. Ever since, I’d been doing everything I could think of to protect them.
Everything I could think of, and something with Simon I would never have thought I’d do.
My stomach lurched at the memory and I pushed myself to my feet and got some water from the kitchen. After one sip, I set it down and got wine instead. Water wasn’t going to cut it.
I spent hours, as the sky gradually darkened into night outside my window, drinking wine and crying and trying to imagine what had happened after I left.
Did Kent and MC get married? I couldn’t believe they hadn’t because I knew how happy they both were to be together, and yet she’d been so upset that I also couldn’t see how they’d have managed it without her crying throughout the ceremony. Her wedding day memories would be of disaster, thanks to me.
At least the reception, assuming the wedding had gone ahead, had been in the gorgeous party room at MC’s dad’s security-conscious condo building, so Mimi wouldn’t have been able to get in after dealing with her speeding ticket. But she could have figured out where it was and be lurking outside right now harassing everyone who went in or out for information.
I hated that I didn’t know what was happening, and I reached for my phone several times to send texts to ask. But who would talk to me now? Who would answer my messages when they’d all either glared at me or turned away from me? I was desperate to know exactly how horrible things were, and terrified to know too, and I agonized over it all until I couldn’t cry another tear. I felt empty, dried out and dead, and lost.
When my phone rang, I lunged for it in a sudden hope, then dropped it on the couch in disgust when I saw Simon’s number on the screen.
He left me a voicemail, and after another glass of wine I managed to make myself check it.
“Hey, Red, you look hot when you’re screaming at people, you know. Mimi just got out of the police station, because those bastards held her there forever, and emailed me a few pictures.” He chuckled, while I hoped that maybe the wedding and reception had gone ahead while Mimi was detained. “I bet you’re mad I changed our agreement and had Mimi go to the wedding, but hey, you did it first. We investigated and the honeymoon resort you told me about is closed for repairs.”
He paused to let that sink in, and my tears rose again though I hadn’t thought I had any left. I was so stupid. Why hadn’t I planned better so I could give him a lie with some proof behind it?
“Yeah,” he said, and I could almost see him grinning that awful slimy grin at me. “So since you lied I figured the agreement had already been broken. But we don’t know where they’re going for the honeymoon so I guess you won. This time.” This chuckle somehow had anger in it. “Don’t try me again, Red. Last chance. You lie to me once more, you’re done in this industry. But we got some great shots of MC’s dress and everything, so I’ll forgive you this time. Give me a call when you get this and we’ll plan your next assignment. And good luck in California tomorrow.”
He hung up and I deleted his message and curled up into a miserable ball on the couch. I didn’t want to go to California, and I didn’t want to call him. Not now and not ever.
But I knew I would.
I had to. I had lost so much for my career. Kent’s friendship, MC’s trust, my bond with Liv, the relationship just beginning to bloom with Ron... it was all gone now.
If I gave up the career too, I’d truly have nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
On Sunday I woke up, my eyes sore from crying myself to sleep, to the sound of my phone signaling a new Twitter message.
Not one, as it turned out.
Fifty.
I scrolled through, trying to figure out what had brought on this unusual rush of messages, but horror quickly replaced my confusion when I saw Mimi’s tweet.
“McKent’s wedding a nightmare, Summer to blame”
Though I could hardly bear to do it, I clicked on the link she’d provided. There was a slideshow of pictures there, which didn’t load on my phone, but unfortunately the article’s few paragraphs loaded all too clearly.
“Yesterday was supposed to be McKent’s wedding, but it all went wrong when a camera crew descended on the quaint little church.”
Like the crew had been a force of nature, an unavoidable disaster, instead of a bunch of jerks led by the biggest jerk of all. No, second-biggest. Simon was the biggest.
“Summer clearly tried to get them to leave, but how did they know where to find the wedding? Would anyone involved in that wedding but Summer, who reports for our site, even have contacts in the media? But we can’t believe that she leaked
the location. She must have known that McKent are all about privacy.”
I did know that. But for one moment I thought MC had changed. And that moment of stupidity had ruined everything.
I dragged myself out of bed and got the coffee machine going. I couldn’t face this without caffeine. Once it was ready I took a long sip, then threw in a shot of whiskey. With the alcohol calming my nerves the tiniest bit, I made myself keep reading.
“Lots of your favorite ‘Ragged Royalty’ cast members were in attendance, and we’ve managed to get exclusive photos from the camera crew. We don’t know at this time whether the wedding actually went ahead, but we’ll do our best to find out. The camera crew departed, of course, once it was clear they weren’t wanted.”
Sure, Mimi. The arrival of the cops had nothing to do with that. It was all your gracious decision to leave.
The article wrapped up with, “I’m hoping to get comments from everyone involved in the next few days, but these picture pretty much tell the story of the wedding that wasn’t.”
I opened the article on my laptop so I could see the pictures which still hadn’t loaded on my phone, then wished I hadn’t.
Ashley, alone and standing tall in a pair of silver strappy heels that on a normal day I’d have been obsessed with, blocking the door of the church to prevent the crew from getting in.
Kent, handsome in his tuxedo, all his well-dressed guests clustered behind him on the church steps, arguing with an unseen person. I knew that person was Mimi, but she wasn’t in the shot, and I realized her crew had done that on purpose. Hard to criticize the camera crew for invading the wedding while also admitting you had brought the crew.
MC cowering in the limo, her eyes huge and terrified, while Liv reached protectively for her.
Me rushing forward, looking like a crazy person as I screamed at the invaders to go away. I didn’t know which of Mimi’s photographers had caught the shot but he’d done it perfectly: I somehow looked furious and guilty as hell at the same time.
The ladies of the wedding party standing on the driveway after being kicked out of the limo, MC in the gorgeous dress I worked so hard on with Liv and Holly beside her, all shocked and confused. And me alone a few feet away, looking sick and sad.
That photo had caught me just before I started crying, and the caption said, “Summer, who doesn’t seem to have been with Aaron much lately, looks miserable. Is she devastated by the sight of Kent marrying someone else, sorry that the bridal gown she made for MC might not have its day in church, or trying to hide her pleasure that the marriage might not happen at all?”
There was no hint of pleasure in my face, which made the last part of the caption ridiculous, but I hated the first part even more. I didn’t want anyone, especially Ron, thinking I cared if Kent got remarried.
Not that Ron was talking to me.
At two in the morning, unable to sleep, I’d given in and sent him a simple text message: “I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
There’d been no answer in the eight hours since, and I was becoming far too sure that there never would be.
I shut down the computer, and deleted Twitter from my phone so I wouldn’t have to hear it beep at me as new people saw the article and told me how disgusting I was, then threw back the rest of my coffee. It was too hot and burned going down, but that was good. It dulled the emotional pain.
Not just of what I’d done, although that was huge, but of how stupid I felt. Even more than usual. Mimi’s article made me sound like either an idiot who hadn’t known MC wouldn’t want cameras at her wedding or a monster who wanted the wedding ruined because I couldn’t have Kent myself. Neither of those was true, but I knew people would believe either story and some would believe both. I’d loved getting attention in public, up to now, but this would be different. Being stared at now would feel creepy and invasive and--
My coffee churned in my stomach. Was this how attention felt to MC? Probably, given how much she hated it. And I’d brought it on her. On her wedding day.
What was I going to do? If Ron wouldn’t answer me, how could I expect Kent to? Or MC or Liv? Or even Aaron? I couldn’t. I had nobody. Nothing.
Except my work.
I was supposed to be taking a flight to Los Angeles at two so I could look for celebrities before the night’s big music awards in Beverly Hills. I’d been researching it all week. I so didn’t want to go now.
But I had to. I didn’t have anything else.
*****
A group of people entered the coffee shop carrying Prada and Tiffany and Burberry shopping bags. No doubt they’d been on nearby Rodeo Drive. Lucky. I couldn’t afford the paper bags themselves, never mind the stuff inside.
I started to look away from the group, then froze. Something about the way the young woman in the middle carried herself... and how the rest seemed to be careful not to get in her way...
I looked more closely, and though she had red hair flowing loose down her shoulders instead of the short blonde crop Annabelle currently wore, I knew I was right. It was her, and the guy slouching along beside her was her twin brother CJ. The hottest new singers, and probably more accessible to me now than they ever would be again.
I walked over, trying to look unconcerned so they wouldn’t bolt, and picked up a napkin from the station where Annabelle was adding cinnamon to her coffee.
“Hi, Annabelle,” I said softly. “Like the hair.”
She stared at me, eyes wide, but though she muttered a curse word I saw she was delighted to be recognized.
The women around her didn’t share her opinion. “Get lost,” one hissed at me, while the others bunched in to protect their charges. “And shut up.”
“How’d you know?” Annabelle murmured to me.
I smiled at her, then at CJ who was also mostly unrecognizable with his brown baseball cap pulled down low. “I love you guys. How could I not?”
Annabelle glowed and CJ said, “You know us?”
Thanks to my research, I could say, “Of course! ‘Make Yourself Proud’ is my favorite song.”
The twins looked at each other, their happiness seeming to fade. I didn’t know why. One of the women hushed me again, and I said, “Look, I’m not trying to harass them or anything. Let’s just sit and drink our coffees and relax. Okay? Just for a few minutes.”
“Who are you?”
I pulled a business card from my pocket and slipped it to the woman. Simon had insisted on referencing my time on “Ragged Royalty”, so the people I spoke to would consider me one of them. I wasn’t sure it would work in my favor at this point, given Mimi’s article.
The woman pulled her mouth to one side. “CelebToday,” she said under her breath. “I don’t know...”
“I do. They’re great.” Annabelle plucked the card from the woman’s hand and glanced at it. “Come on, Mom,” she said, sounding like a typical sulky teenager. “We can spend a few minutes. I like her.”
Mom? My research had said the twins had cut ties with their mother right after they made it big, and though they were beginning to reconcile it didn’t seem likely she’d be with them here before an award show performance. That was probably just another way of hiding their identities.
“Yeah,” CJ said. “I like her too. I’ve read her stuff. She gets it. You guys can go shop on your own for a bit. We’ll be fine.”
They, not surprisingly, didn’t want to trust their meal tickets to me, but the twins were so obviously going to do what they wanted that within moments all but one of the guardians had left.
“I stay,” the last one said, hissing again. “That’s the way it is.”
“Fine,” Annabelle said, rolling her eyes. “Get yourself a coffee, Aunt Summer, and come sit with us.”
I did, amused by the ‘Aunt Summer’ method of not attracting attention and now certain the woman wasn’t their mother, and was soon settled at an isolated corner table with a grouchy guardian and America’s most popular teenagers.
“Seriously,
” Annabelle said before I could speak, “how’d you know?”
“Seriously,” I said, getting the lid properly attached to my coffee cup, “I like you guys. And I’d heard you often came to coffee shops before shows with--” I cut myself off before naming her ex-boyfriend, and now CJ’s bitter enemy, movie star Ward Andrew. “With disguises,” I said, hoping my change in direction hadn’t been obvious. I knew better than to slip up like that. I had to focus.
Annabelle sniffled. “I won’t talk about him,” she said, raising her chin. “Not ever.”
But she would. I had to make sure she did. The only way to eventually get hired by Peter and escape Simon was to be amazing at my job, and so Annabelle would have to give me some scoop eventually.
They’d been interviewed so many times before that they knew the game well, and their guardian’s chiming in whenever they were opening up too much was an additional challenge, but I found myself enjoying the back-and-forth of getting them to talk. I chatted with the two of them for about ten minutes, first showing off my brand new knowledge of their lives and music so they’d feel more comfortable with me and then getting them to talk to me about anything and everything. I was afraid they might bring up the “McKent” disaster since at least CJ knew who I was, but they were both totally self-obsessed. Sweet, somehow, but self-obsessed, and that meant that under my full attention and my gentle questioning it didn’t take long before Annabelle was spilling her guts on all things ex-related.
“Did you ever,” she said, her blue eyes filling with tears, “like, totally love someone and then have them do something totally heinous and you’re like, I don’t know you at all?”
No, but I’d recently been on the opposite side. I took a quick sip of my coffee to calm myself and also to give myself a second to think of what to say. Annabelle had never before told anyone why she and Ward had broken up, and I was on the edge of finding out.
She knew I was too, because she swiped at her eyes and said, “Never mind. Aunt Summer, maybe we should talk about...” She glanced around to make sure nobody was near us. “... the music again.”
Fifteen Minutes of Summer Page 13
