The Last Girl (Sand & Fog #7)
Page 5
I shifted my gaze back to my letter. “That’s exactly why I travel with them. It balances out my reality. There’s enough substance to deal with every day for me.”
We stared at each other with the kind of silent communication and emotional conveyance lifelong friends have.
Cody had lived on my family’s estate since he was six. His father, Dillon, had been the head of our security from my birth. For as long as I could remember, wherever my twin brothers, Ethan and Eric, were on our property, Cody was there. He was more like an older brother than my security detail, which was probably why my father hired him when I insisted on finally having some semblance of freedom like a normal girl when I turned eighteen. If my parents had their way, I’d be living at home year-round and never leave the house.
Where I went, Cody went, and as agreed between the two of us, out of my sight, although I was not out of his, unless we were in California. He was never farther than a shout away from me even if I didn’t ever see him.
My stomach turned. “You saw everything last night in front of the hotel, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I’m always there. You know that. Thank you for not letting it go where that asshole wanted to take it. I’m only able to hold back from hitting Zane every time I see him because I’ve never seen what you let him do to you behind a locked door.”
My eyes closed on a ragged breath. It took every ounce of willpower not to cringe. “He doesn’t do anything to me that I don’t want him to. It’s wrong to hate him for that.”
“I’ll cross it off the list, then.”
“Please don’t forget I care about what you say, so be nice.”
There was a long pause, then he sighed. “What’s the plan when we get back to California?” he inquired.
I reached for another letter. “You know the drill. Hang with the fam. Get smothered by my mom. Travel a little with my dad if he has gigs lined up. Other than that, nothing.”
My parents were both rock stars, even if their marriage and family were the part of their lives they valued most. Dad still toured a little and was as famous as ever, but not Mom. After I was born, she quietly faded from public life and focused on her career as a songwriter so us kids would never be home without one of them. Miracles of all miracles, she turned her quiet existence into something that Dad liked—no small feat.
They were the perfect combination of the same and completely opposite two people should be. How they made it work was a mystery even to us kids.
“You can completely unpack when we get home,” I informed Cody. “This year I won’t be leaving California until spring.”
“Really?” He sounded excited. “You’ve got nothing going with the wandering circus until spring? No trips to Vail? No parties in New York. Zilch?”
“Zilch. Wide open calendar. Not even a lunch date.”
“The ’Sades for six months straight?” When I nodded, he emitted a sound that was like pure pleasure. “Thank you. You may be saving my world. There’s been a lot more complaining from Gideon this summer about me never being home. He’s going to be over the moon when he finds out I’m not leaving again until April.”
“It’s obnoxious of you to gloat,” I chided, tearing open the letter from my older sister Kaley.
“I’m not gloating. I’m euphoric. Gideon can’t travel to me because of his residency at the hospital and I can’t leave you to visit him. It’s difficult being on the road half the year and keeping our relationship what it should be. While you’re off hooking up, I’m not getting any. You’ve told me I’m going to get laid six months straight after we’ve landed. You’re lucky I’m not dancing around the cabin right now.”
“Gloat. Gloat,” I scoffed. “We don’t all find the perfect man and fall madly in love.”
“He’s not the perfect one. I am.” He smiled with cocky self-assurance and it chased the lingering sadness of my mood away.
“Now you’re just being mean. Maybe I haven’t married because I’m waiting for you to ask. I’ve had a hopeless crush on you since I was little.”
“I’d ask if your dad wouldn’t kill me and if I thought it wouldn’t piss off my partner. It’d tone down the trouble you get into and make it easier to take care of you if we were married. Especially if we left the obey clause in. If I didn’t love you no way I’d be part of this traveling shit show a day longer than I had to. I would marry you if I thought it would put an end to this.”
I curled into him, resting my head on his shoulder as I continued reading. “That was harsh.”
“It was meant to be.” His arm slipped around me and held me against his side. “What is this we’ve been doing, Khloe? Four years and I still can’t figure out what you get from it. You’re better than the guys you hook up with.”
“You play the cards you’re dealt, Cody, and try to find a way to make it enough. That’s what I’m doing.” I’d unthinkingly used the words Zane spoke to me. I didn’t want to think of him, and it brought him and my other disappointments front and center in my mind.
“But you’re not playing the cards, the cards are playing you,” Cody murmured with genuine empathy. “Loving someone is always a calculated risk. For everyone, Khloe. Find someone to love and let them decide if they want to take the risk. Getting lost in the party scene, collecting and discarding guys like Zane, won’t ever be enough or make you happy.”
“I don’t want more. I’m perfectly happy with how things are. And I’m not having this discussion. You’ve never liked Zane. Don’t think I don’t know that’s what this is about.”
“Blah. Blah. Do you think I haven’t heard that before and know it’s crap? Projection and deflection. Nice try. Doesn’t change anything. We both know what guys like Zane are about. You’re anticipating that every man out there will disappoint you, you’ve convinced yourself it’s better not to let them, and the best way to do that is pick men you wouldn’t want a future with. Don’t you think I haven’t been there and can see it?”
“It’s not the same for you and me.”
He moved to eye me intently and my face burned.
“Men won’t take on as much for a woman as a woman will for a man,” I countered hotly. “Their expectations of us are higher and their standard for walking much lower. There’s gender inequality even in this. You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist.”
“We both date men. The difference, Khloe, is in the type of men we pick. I’ve had my share of guys like Zane. I’ve evolved, moved on, and now there’s Gideon. You need to evolve and move on. I can’t watch much more of this.”
We warred with our eyes, neither of us relenting. On this point, we would never agree, because Cody refused to concede there was little point in my evolving. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. I pick men I don’t want a future with. You win. Can we end this?”
“No. I’m going to keep saying this until the day you hear me.”
I glanced up at Cody to fix him in a rebuking stare. “You manage your life. I’ll manage mine. Okay?”
“But you’re not managing, you’re letting it control you.”
“What makes you think I can do better than that?”
“I know you.” Cody leaned forward to kiss my head and I wrapped my arms around him as he gently stroked my back. I was grateful every day he’d survived his five years in the military and was alive, whole, and a sure-footed, loving presence in my life. He said things to me my family wouldn’t or couldn’t. He said things I needed to hear, even if I couldn’t imagine the day I’d see things his way.
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MAKE me watch this movie when you’re pissed at me?” Cody grumbled, glaring at the wide-screen filled with Julia Stiles and 10 Things I Hate About You.
“I watch it because I love it. Kat may be disagreeable. Kat may give in to Heath Ledger at the end. But she isn’t wrong. Not completely.”
“Oh. Still arguing with me only doing it with film.” He yanked another handful of cookies from the Oreo bag and handed me two.
I
frowned. “My mom sent those cookies for me. Stop rationing them.”
“You’ve had too many cookies and too much vodka. You’re at your limit of both.”
“I’ll decide that.” I held out my hand.
“No, you won’t.” He moved the bag to the other side of him so I couldn’t reach them.
I lifted my glass from the table next to me. “Take my vodka and I’m booting you out to finish the flight with Gretchen and Cia.”
He checked his watch. “We’re six hours out, Khloe. I’m taking away the Iordanov. It won’t be good for either of us to show up at your folks’ house buzzed. Worse, it’ll upset your mother and we’ll both get a lecture about how I’m not taking care of you the way I should. Think, Khloe. Think.” The bottle began to dance in the air in front of me. “Get Chrissie worried and Daddy may cut up the platinum card, and where would your traveling circus be then?”
I sighed, surrendering because he was right. “I hate all the things I have to do to keep the status quo of my life going. I’m an adult and I still obey my mom’s crazy rules. But you’re right, it wouldn’t be good to let my mom know I only pretend to agree with her.”
His eyes held me in a gentle hold. “Worse than not good, Khloe. It’d worry her. Let her feel like she’s doing something that will make a difference in how things go. It’s such a small thing to give her.”
Emotion rose to clog my throat and I was only able to nod. My moods were shifting all over the place, but at least this time it was over someone worth it. My mom. She loved so completely. Both my parents did. It hurt sometimes when I thought of them.
Cody removed my treats basket from the bed, and as he set it on the desk my phone rang. He picked it up and frowned. “Private number.”
“Let it go to voice mail. Ignore it.”
“Have you given your phone number out to anyone?”
“No,” I mumbled, searching for the channel controller.
“Then whoever’s calling should be in your contacts list. No blocked numbers. No private numbers ever. It’s part of Black Star’s security instructions for you.”
“Well, Khloe’s sleep instructions are to ignore it.” I switched off the movie and turned onto my side. To my vexation he answered the phone.
“Hello. Who is this?”
I giggled. His voice always got deliciously tenor when he was in protect-Khloe mode.
“It doesn’t matter who you are. There’s no one by that name here,” Cody barked.
I glanced over my shoulder to find my bodyguard clicking away on his laptop. Whoever it was had said something to alarm Cody. He was tracing the call and I grew suddenly alert.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear what you said. Could you repeat it?” He was drawing out the conversation and watching the trace run on his computer. My gaze shot to his and he mouthed crazy and twirled his finger beside his head to add emphasis.
I sat up, hugging my legs, and waited. When the trace ended I saw on the screen something that’d never happened before. It came back with nothing. Blank. No number or location. No information of any kind.
Cody hung up and powered off my phone. “Fuck.” He tossed it to me. “It’s probably nothing, but we need to act like it is. Keep this off until we’re home. I’ll get you another one and a new number.”
“Damn it. That’s going to go over great with my dad. Can you say smothering security bubble for Khloe?”
“Are you sure you didn’t give your number to anyone?”
“Positive because I don’t.”
Cody was tense as he sat on the edge of the bed. “He seemed to know a lot about you.”
“He did?” My eyes flared wide.
“He mentioned about having had a”—Cody made dramatic air quotes—“brief introduction to you at the Hotel Brittany. Whoever he is, he knew where you stayed in Paris and that you’d left.”
“Brief introduction? Who talks like that?” My mind started to race with the most unlikely of thoughts and then a sudden sensation like a strong wind ran my flesh. “Did he say his name?”
“Damon.”
“Oh God.” My body dropped backward onto the bed with a thump.
Chapter Ten
CODY GLANCED UP FROM my phone where he’d been Google searching like a fiend for every bit of information he could find on Damon. “How did you meet the naughty prince without me knowing it? Where was I?”
“On the other side of the locked door like you’re supposed to be.” I arched a brow, tilted my head, and held out my hand. I wanted my darn phone back in case Damon called again. It’d been over an hour, it was clear he wasn’t going to, but I wanted him to.
That he’d called me was astounding. He’d probably gotten my number from Zane—they were traveling together—but that Zane would give it up, that Damon phoned, and why he wanted to talk to me were things I simply needed to know in an illogical, suddenly important without cause to be way.
“Will you give me back my phone?” I demanded.
Cody made an involuntary shudder. “You’re behaving like a teenager. You’re not getting the phone back until you snap out of it.”
“I am not. I’m not the one trolling the internet to drool over pictures of him.” I stuck out my tongue at him, and his eyebrows slowly rose in his don’t call me out expression.
Looking down at the screen, he shook his head just enough to make his blond hair flutter, then sighed. “Damon Saxe is hot.”
“Do you think so?” I crinkled my nose.
“What? Don’t you?”
“Well, he isn’t bad looking. No, he’s handsome. But I could tell right off he wasn’t my type.”
Cody exploded with laughter. “That means you like him.”
“He’s arrogant, boorishly charming, sucks up every ounce of oxygen in the room by simply being him—”
“That sounds like you’re a match made in heaven.”
“—so obviously a rental that no girl would ever think to ask him if he were, and exactly the type I can’t risk having an affair with. Too much drama. Too much publicity. Too much...him.”
Cody’s eyes grew wide and locked on me. “You’re already a little obsessed by him if you could come up with a list like that.” He snapped his fingers between us.
Groaning, I cover my face. “Yes, I do find him a touch fascinating and I’m attracted to him...a little. But that doesn’t matter because I’m never going to see him again.” I split my fingers and peeked out. “Thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you! Why didn’t you let him go to voice mail as I suggested? Then at least I’d know why he called.”
“Why he called? It’s not exactly a mystery, Khloe. He’s been thumbing his nose at his father since he was dismissed from official royal duties a year ago and you’d be excellent in that regard. A very British scandal that would keep the tabloids running full press forever. Oh, and he collects beautiful girls. You’re sort of cute.”
“And you’re sort of being a jerk right now.” I snatched my phone from his hand. “I’m done talking about Damon Saxe. You were right earlier. I’ve had too much vodka. I need to sleep before we get home.”
“Flattery and obedience. Nice way of changing the subject,” he grumbled as I went through the motions of curling up on my side of the bed. “How long do you want to sleep?”
“What do we have left? About five hours in the air?”
“About that.”
“Let me sleep four hours.”
I closed my eyes and Cody turned off the cabin lights before settling in the chair beside me. But I was too keyed up to nap and it was ridiculous that I couldn’t shake Damon from my mind. I’d covered the whole impossible equation of him with Cody. Who he was. Who I was. And why even a slight association, the most harmless of friendships, with Damon was too dangerous to dare.
Normally it was enough to get me to stop thinking about a guy. But as we soared across the United States, Damon was the only thought turning in my head.
“HEY
, SLEEPING BEAUTY. It’s time to get moving,” Cody called out as he collected our things. He was dressed now in his customary Black Star Security dark suit and aviator glasses. He’d boarded the plane in baggy walking shorts, sandals, and a loose silk shirt—what he wore to blend in with the tourists as he guarded me.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, tuned in to the plane’s sound and motion, and sat up. “Damn it, we’ve landed. You let me sleep too long. I told you I needed an hour before we landed.”
“You were out. I thought you needed to sleep more. What’s the big issue with letting you sleep?”
I checked my phone and there was a long stream of texts. Mostly family, a few friends but...
“There’s nothing from him,” Cody announced knowingly. “I’d have woken you if he called again or texted.”
“I wasn’t checking for that.” I glared at him as I rummaged through my makeup bag.
He propped his leg on the bed to strap his backup gun to his ankle. “Yeah, you were.”
He was right and knew it, so why argue?
Concentrating on the brush I was running through my hair, I shored up my composure. Darn. I didn’t need this. I’d spent years avoiding guys like Damon for exactly this reason. It was men who were wrong for you that you had to work like hell to stop thinking about. It shouldn’t be that way, but it always was, to the point it felt like God’s cruel joke on women.
I paused in zipping closed my bag. “Do I look all right, or should I put on some makeup so I don’t look so pale? I’d like to avoid my mom freaking out over me the first second I’m back in the US.”
“You don’t look pale. You look good. No freak out imminent.”