by Cari Quinn
Why on earth would she want him to know what she’d been?
She wasn’t that woman any longer.
Delusional as always.
“Randy?”
She tried to untangle herself from the dog, the voices of her past, and the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Not now, Mace.”
“Now is the best time.” Macy sat beside her. An expensive pair of linen shorts draped over her endless legs and silky green tank hugging her curves made Miranda feel frumpy. Macy flicked her high ponytail behind her shoulder, pushing her shades up her nose. “The Randy I know wouldn’t sit here and cry about her life.”
“Yeah, well, Miranda really fucked up so she’s going to fucking cry if it’s all the same to you.”
Macy sat back on the bench and slid her arm behind Miranda’s back, but didn’t touch her. “Clarity blows.”
Miranda couldn’t hold back the choked laugh. “Yeah, it does.”
“So, where in that clarity did you realize you fucked up?”
She pushed Stella off her and on to the patio. When the dog’s head remained in her lap, she sighed and resumed her stroking. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. Period. I knew better, but I did it anyway.”
“And that’s the part you think you fucked up?”
“Of course,” she muttered, but she heard the lie in her voice. She swiped her nose and cursed her leaking face.
“This big, beautiful and…” Macy paused, tugging on the ends of her ponytail for a moment. “We’ll go with interesting city.”
“How PC of you.”
“I’m trying here. I don’t know what you see in this place, but if you wanted to live in the center of a metropolis that would ensure you wouldn’t hook up with a man, this was definitely a good try. And as you see, it still couldn’t be done.”
“Not every male is gay, Mace.”
“No, but the per capita is definitely against a single heterosexual female. Is that why you picked San Francisco?”
“Of course not.” The city was creative and growing and not in with the Los Angeles scene. It even let her feel close to her grandmother. Macy just didn’t know the city like she did.
“Yeah, I see the hesitation there.”
“Not for the reason you think.”
“Maybe, but look what happened. I haven’t seen this Nate guy, but I talked with Max and Ryleigh last night.”
“You what?”
“Don’t sound so horrified or surprised. And let’s not even go over the tap dancing I had to do about how we knew each other. You can’t keep lying to yourself and everyone in your life, Randy. I understand and even applaud you for getting off the Lyons merry-go-round of drugs and affairs—”
“It was killing me.” She could barely hear her own voice over the roar in her ears and thudding beat of her heart.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
She heard the pain in her best friend’s voice. How many people could she hurt in one week? “I couldn’t see a way out.”
“Dropping off the face of the earth was only a quick fix. I’m surprised it took the leeches so long to find you.”
“I rarely go out.” She tugged at her red hair. “Let my hair go natural.”
“Well, that’s one way. And makes me feel a little better about the fact that we only email. Dammit, Rand, you couldn’t visit me even once?”
She clutched Macy’s wrist. “I didn’t want to cut you off too, but I couldn’t figure out a better way.”
Macy flipped her hand and clasped hers. “I get it. You know I do.”
Miranda rested her head on Macy’s shoulder. “How did you pull out of the party scene?”
“I grew up and decided losing myself wasn’t worth an A-list column mention.”
“Why couldn’t I be that strong?”
“You are. You just don’t see it because you decided you had to pack up and move half a state away to do it. You were the one who decided, and you didn’t let anyone else in on the plan.”
Stilted memories of the hospital she’d found herself in, followed by the treatment center in the mountains looking over San Francisco had made the decision, not her. “I lost so much time. By the time I’d finished rehab and cleaned out my system I just couldn’t face going back home.”
“I get it, Randy. I don’t like it, but I get it. But it’s been a long time. Hiding behind what you think your grandmother would want isn’t a life. She loved you for you. She was a shrewd businesswoman, but she understood the importance of family.” Before Miranda could speak, Macy held up a hand. “Let me finish.”
Disgusted, Miranda got up and stalked around the patio. Stella whined, trailing behind her.
“You’re going to live like this? Just hole up and work? Don’t you need something more than that?”
“Like you’re a good one to talk!”
“Babe, I don’t work. I chair committees and donate money.”
“Who’s deluding themselves now?”
Her blue eyes went flat. “When you’re in my natural habitat for more than three days you can push at me. We’re talking about you right now.” Macy flung her arm out. “You’ve got all this weird shit in this city and you barely go out and do anything just because you’re afraid someone will recognize you. And now that the leeches have a bead on you it’s going to be even worse.”
She hunched her shoulders. Macy was right, she was going to have to hole up for a good long while. Good thing she had enough work to do exactly that. She didn’t have Nathan to drag her out anymore, now did she?
“Don’t you do it.”
Miranda looked up sharply.
“I can see it in your face. You haven’t learned a damn thing, Miranda Jayne Lyons. Yes—I said it. Lyons. That’s your name. That’s who you are.”
She shook her head, the denial embedded into her tongue.
“And you can’t see what you’re throwing away. You don’t know how good you’ve got it right now, kiddo. I’d kill for what you’re throwing away.”
The pity party halted as she tried to get her brain to engage. “Wait—what?”
“You think you’re cornering the market on a shitty past, Rand? Get your head out of your fucking ass. We all have things we wish we could change, but that’s all a part of growing up and learning from our mistakes. Locking them into a secret compartment under your bed just makes the learning curve longer.” Macy stood. “The Randy I knew was fearless and I loved her for it.”
Guilt and anger swarmed her. Why didn’t anyone understand? Was it really so hard to figure out that she didn’t want to repeat her past, so she had to remove herself from that life in every way? Instead of just lording it over her, Macy headed back to the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Macy called over her shoulder. “I have responsibilities that I’d love to box up and put out with the trash, but guess what? I can’t.”
“Mace, wait—what’s going on?” If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in herself she would have seen that her best friend was there for more than moral support. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s not important.”
“Of course it is.” She tugged her back, tangling her fingers with Macy’s. “I’m being a shit.”
Macy didn’t budge and her stubbornness was legion. There was no changing her course now. Miranda tightened her hold. The old connection between them reached out in silky strands for a moment before Macy released her hand. The loss echoed as loudly as it had with Nate. “Yes, you are, but not about this, kiddo. Just think about it, okay?”
Miranda watched her walk away. Stella bumped under her hand, leaning against her leg. Ominous as a black cloud, her chest tightened. And just like last night she wanted to chase after her best friend. Instead, she stayed rooted.
Safer.
Surely it was what was best for everyone.
A few hours later, after a pit stop at her apartment to shower, she went downstairs. By now everyone would be in the office. She glanced at her watch,
surprised that it was still so early. It felt as if so much had changed in a few days.
With shoulders back, she pushed through the doors. She was prepared for the mass exodus that could very well happen once she talked to them. Lies were insidious, even if they were simply by omission.
Before she could pass through the visitor’s area, Max and Ryleigh were on her. Braced for a slap, she nearly knocked them both over when they dragged her in for a hug. Tears slammed into her and she couldn’t stop the clutch of fingers on Max’s shoulders.
“Oh love, it’s okay.” Max pushed her back to the couch. “You sit down, right now.”
Ryleigh flanked her, fingers tight around one hand and Max clutching her left. “We saw the news.”
“How—” She sucked back a sob. “I’m sorry, you must hate me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Max scoffed. “I always knew there was a secret you were keeping, but I just assumed it was a bastard ex-husband, not an heiress in hiding!”
Miranda winced. “I’m not in hiding.”
“Well you should be. Those vultures outside—”
She sank nails into the soft microfiber of Max’s suit coat. “You didn’t—”
He cut her off and waved a hand. “No, if you let me finish, I was going to say outside Nathan’s house. We wouldn’t say anything, Miranda.”
He sounded more insulted that she thought he wouldn’t keep her secret than the fact that she’d been lying to him for three years. No—not lying. She was protecting herself and erasing her past. Not lying.
She couldn’t stop the shaky breath out. “I’m sorry, but if they found me…” She leaned forward, the nerves and the fear balling inside her until she wanted to curl into nothing.
Ryleigh’s hand tightened around hers. “It’s okay. We won’t say anything.”
Grateful and unable to stop the stream of stupid tears, she leaned her head on Max’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to say.”
“We’ve pieced together most of it. You’ve been big news for almost two months, Miranda.”
She shook her head. “MJ’s been big news. I’m just a nobody who wants to live quietly away from L.A.”
“Well, that’s just stupid.”
Miranda’s face swiveled up at Max’s matter-of-fact voice. She sat up, tugging at her hand, but Max wouldn’t release it.
“You’re not a nobody, Miranda, and you know it. You’re our Miranda, but beyond that you’re a freaking heiress! I can understand wanting to live a quieter life. Everyone knows just how…”
“Much of a whore I was?”
“God no! That’s not what I was going to say!” Max dragged her in for another fierce hug. “I was going to say how insane your life was.”
Miranda held on, but didn’t believe him. He’d paused for a reason. One of the main reasons she never wanted anyone to know who she was. Whore, drug addict, socialite slut—all of them came easily to her tongue.
He pushed her back, grasping her shoulders. “We would have kept your secret, but I certainly understand why you wouldn’t want to tell anyone. I’m sure you’ve had backstabbers in and out of your life since you were a kid.”
She nodded, hope flaring. “You understand?”
“No, love. I don’t think anyone would understand unless they lived the life you had.”
And with that simple statement, the knots that had taken over her gut loosened for the first time in days. “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. It’s not that I don’t trust you guys. I do, I promise that I do, but I didn’t want to even—” She was at a loss in how to explain herself that wouldn’t start another argument. It surely hadn’t gone over well with Nate the night before.
“Associate yourself with the name.”
She let out a huge breath. They understood, and she hated that she’d been so blind. “Yes. I just wanted to start over.”
Ryleigh hooked her arm through hers. “We get it, Miranda. I can’t imagine how hard it was to have people staring at you, following you all the time, but damn, the parties.” Her voice held the wonder of someone who’d never lived through what she had.
She turned to Ryleigh. The familiar colorful accents of piercings that highlighted almond-shaped eyes and otherwise soft eyebrows echoed her wilder days. She’d experimented with crazy hair and outfits, set trends without knowing it. Smiling, she couldn’t discount the pleasure in her wilder days. Talk about hypocritical.
“Parties in my world were only as good as the stunts you pulled. I loved that life, Ryleigh. It was exciting for a long time. Until the stunts were more important than just having fun with my friends. And then scoring a better high was more exciting than my friends.”
She hated that Ryleigh’s eyes shuttered and shock replaced the awe. She tugged on one of Ryleigh’s intricate braids, ticking down the multiple layers of purple rubber bands. “Not everyone took it to the level I did. Just be careful with your wild child tendencies. Take it from someone who knows how easy a little fun can turn into a little crazy.”
Wordlessly, Ryleigh nodded.
“Okay, enough of my stupid crap.” She looked over to the oddly quiet corner where Leo sat. No Bluetooth in his ear, no shrilling phone propped at his shoulder, just his intense blue eyes settled on hers. There was no censure there, not even any anger. Drawn by the easy peace that rarely filled Leo’s space, she found her hip on his desk.
He held out his palm. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on you at Q Designs.”
Shock stuttered her heart. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“Who am I to judge if you want to dye your hair and change your name?”
“Stop bleaching the red out actually,” she said with a grin that she hadn’t thought she’d find again.
Leo stood. “Now why would a redhead bleach it to blonde? That’s just wrong.” He dragged her into his wide, perfectly muscled chest in a hard hug. She’d known he was in shape, but she’d never actually touched Leo before. He was quite happy to be slightly apart from the group, and he kept her business afloat so she never questioned it.
When he set her back, she peered into his eyes. Leo was just Leo to her, but the unearthly good looks and perfect set to his jaw always niggled at her. She opened her mouth but he settled one long manicured finger over her lips. She curled her hands around his wrist and pulled his hand away. “I guess we all have our secrets.”
Leo brushed a kiss over her forehead. “You know it, sugar. Now can we actually get some work done?”
Chapter Thirteen
The next few months were a flurry of consultations and contracts. Her own personal war with Declan Thorne Studios was heating up. They were all working overtime to find more clients. And for the first time a few had even sought her out based on their designs and word of mouth.
In fact, she’d landed a major account with one of the lawyer firms down in the Financial District that would keep them firmly in the black for the next three years at the very least. The fact that she’d gotten a dozen long-stem roses from Declan with a note that read ’Til next time had been the first sign that at least she was doing one thing in her life right.
She continued to hole up at work, passing off any outside appointments to Ryleigh or Max to handle. There were vague mentions of the continuing “Where’s MJ” search, but Nate held firm with a no comment when he was cornered.
The few times she’d seen him on TV ended up on her DVR for days, sometimes weeks at a time until she was so disgusted with herself that she finally deleted them. It was a game of rinse and repeat every time she saw him again.
When she was focused, the days flew by. The nights were a little trickier. She’d expanded her Rated by Randy blog into a full-fledged website. She didn’t allow advertising on the site. She wanted it to be exactly what it was. A nonjudgmental place to rate inventions on their own merit, not to spotlight trends and famous endorsements.
In fact, she took great joy in torpedoing the trendy ones.
Sleeping was still a comfort she c
ouldn’t find. A few nights with Nate in her bed and she couldn’t seem to settle. She’d even remodeled her room with different colors and different furniture. It was a completely new space.
Now it just felt empty—not hers—as if the room itself was in a holding pattern for someone else. Fitful hours of sleep were all she managed on her couch. She’d never been more in shape in her life because running was the only thing that kept her sane. She and Stella were both sleek and toned.
Ryleigh bustled in, a tray of coffee in her hands. “Miranda, FedEx.”
As always, her belly flexed and fluttered, then settled. She took the tray and plucked out her cup. “I’ll take care of it.” She took a sip, caramel- and espresso-laced coffee singeing her tongue. “Bless you, my child.”
“It’s definitely a Mancini’s day.”
Miranda grinned. “Definitely.” She headed to the door, setting her coffee down on the entry table. “Morning, James.”
“Morning, Ms. Woods. Okay if I set it here?”
She nodded to the table. She had a few things ordered for Rated, but she didn’t remember anything so small. “Absolutely.” Stella peered around the corner and gave a sniff then turned around to go back to her spot under Miranda’s desk. They had a new FedEx guy. He was very nice. She knew his name, she looked him in the eyes when he came to the door. For the love of shit, she even smiled at him.
“Ms. Woods?”
She blinked up at the sunny and always smiling James with his surfer crinkles at his eyes and bleached cap of curls. Sweet as can be.
She hated him.
“Sorry.” She signed and handed back his electric clipboard. “Thanks.” She lifted the box, it was heavy. No more than six by six inches, the box had no recognizable manufacturing number on the label. She’d come clean to her crew about everything and they got a kick out of her Rated by Randy obsession.
In fact, she had three more reviewers for the site, hence the expansion. Max even had his own style site. He was determined to re-dress every man in San Francisco. Well, except Leo. They warred over who had the better suit half the time.
