Wanted_Big Bad Brother
Page 16
I don’t know if she feels the same, but she’s doing the same things I’m doing to her, confiding in me, sharing things with me, and sleeping with me. I feel like she feels the same things. And if that’s the case, talking about it is just redundant.
I know everyone in my life will disagree, but this is between me and Dana. She said she wants to go public as much as I do. It means more to me than anyone will ever know, and I know that it means something between us, too.
When it’s my lunch break, I sit down behind my desk, close my door, and dial her number.
I don’t know if she’ll be able to speak, or what time her lunch is at the new job, but I need to hear her voice.
She answers on the third ring.
“Can you talk?” I ask.
She hesitates before she answers. “Yeah, I can talk.”
“I won’t keep you long,” I say.
“It’s okay,” she says. Her voice sounds different, like something is up.
I wonder if she’ll get in trouble with her boss for being on the phone. I don’t know much about Golden Image. I never had much interaction with Bianca that didn’t involve our bodies.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Good,” she says, and I can hear her smiling. I picture her cute dimples. “A little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.
“Me too,” I say. I take a breath. “Listen, I know we said we would wait a bit, but you just say when, and we’ll go public. If the people at your job won’t give you too much hell, I don’t want to wait.”
Especially not after we had a morning like this one.
“Keagan…” she starts, and I’m expecting her to tell me that she can’t go public now. I know Bianca can be a pain. She’s a whole lot of bitch in a slender body. I will understand if she says no. “I don’t work for Golden Image anymore.”
“What?” I ask, because I can’t be hearing right. “What happened?”
She takes a deep breath. “Liz was there. She would have been my boss.”
My head throbs dully between my temples, and blood rushed in my ears.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I would have been working directly under Liz. I quit when I realized it.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did. I’m not working for her, Keagan. You know how I feel about her. And I know how you feel about her.”
She sounds sure, but the information is a shock.
“So, I don’t have a job, again,” she adds.
I think for a moment.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll make a plan for work for you. I’m sorry about this. I can’t believe my past is influencing your work.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “Honestly, I’m relieved I don’t have to face Bianca.”
I close my eyes. “So, you met her.”
She chuckles. “Yeah. I must say I don’t know what you saw in her. At least there’s nothing wrong with your taste, now.”
I smile. “Funny,” I say. “We’ll fix this, okay?”
“I’ve got it covered,” she says. “Don’t worry about that. And about going public, there’s not much stopping us now.”
“Tonight, then,” I say. “No more waiting.”
Dana is quiet for a beat. “Tonight?”
“You said yourself there’s not much stopping us now.”
I try to imagine what her face looks like. She’s unsure. That much, I can tell.
“I’m just nervous,” she says, and I understand.
“Me too. But I want to get it out in the open so that we can be seen together without having to pretend that nothing is going on.”
“Okay,” she says.
We end the conversation and I hang up.
She gave up her job for me. If that’s not enough proof that she feels something for me, I don’t know what is.
Tonight, it is.
Chapter 26
Dana
Spago is a funky bistro that belongs to celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck, and it’s the kind of place the who’s who go to hang out. Keagan asked me to meet him there at seven. He’s taking care of reservations, and we both know the paparazzi are going to be present.
I drive myself and arrive just before seven. The restaurant doesn’t have a very wide entrance. The narrow door and minimalistic name are subtle and elegant, instead.
I’m wearing the same clothes I wore on Friday when we were going to go public, then. My hair is done up, my dress fits perfectly, and I feel like a million bucks.
And I’m terrified. I’m not usually in the public eye. It’s Keagan’s thing, and I don’t know how to be comfortable in front of cameras.
But I want this. We’re going public. It’s Keagan’s way of saying that he wants me as someone more permanent in his life. Romantically. This is the kind of thing we must close our eyes and jump into. Going slowly just won’t cut it.
I walk toward the entrance, and the paparazzi is bunched together on the curb in front of it. Keagan is already there, smiling like it’s the red carpet. He looks dashing in the same dark suit he wore on Friday as well, but he looks comfortable, where I feel like a trussed chicken. Keagan does this kind of thing in front of the press a lot.
When he sees me, he walks to me and camera flashes surround me. I understand why he’s always wanted to arrive separately before. He smiles, his eyes soft and warm. He’s excited about this, more than he’s nervous. I can tell.
My stomach clenches tightly, and for a moment, I want to run away and hide. I don’t like everyone looking at me, or all the photos that are being taken. I don’t know on which website they’ll end up, and I’m nervous.
“Are you ready?” Keagan asks me.
I search his eyes. He’s not just asking me as a warning that it’s going to happen, now. He genuinely wants to know, and I have a feeling that if I say no, he might still put on the brakes.
It makes me trust him, and I nod. If he will take care of me through it all, the way he’s already doing, then I’m ready to go public with him. Keagan smiles as if he’s relieved about my answer, as if he thought that I might still say no.
He turns and leads me to the entrance. The cameras flash and some of them are calling questions.
“Is this your new girlfriend?” someone asks.
“Isn’t it you sister?” another asks.
Keagan laughs. “Yes,” he answers the first. “And yes, step sister. We’re not related,” he reminds them.
He pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s a hot kiss, deep and beautiful, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. Keagan breaks the kiss, and we turn in the spotlight. The camera men click away, and flashes blind me. Questions ring out in a jumble from so many different people, I don’t know which to listen to first.
Keagan laughs. He is comfortable and relaxed. He knows who he is and how to handle these people. I stand next to him, unsure of myself, and force a smile. I’m sure my discomfort shows.
Keagan jokes around with some of them. When they ask about our status as step siblings, he mentions that it’s the dawn of a new era and love should have no limits, that we’re not related. I don’t catch everything. I’m struggling to concentrate with all the flashes going off in my face.
Finally, Keagan holds up his hand.
“If we’re any later, we’ll lose our reservation,” he says.
He has his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, and he guides me toward the door when the paparazzi aren’t around to enter. I’m relieved to be away from the limelight.
“That was intense,” I breathe when we’re away from the crowd.
“But it was good,” Keagan says and pulls me against him, kissing me again.
And he’s right. It was good. We’re public now. Keagan looks happier than I’ve ever seen him, and the way he looks at me makes me feel like this was all worth my while, that our future looks bright. We have real potential.
A seating hostess takes us to our table. Spago is a classy rest
aurant with light wooden floors and beige walls, tables with white table clothes and dark chairs, and a huge painting of an anchor on one wall that picks up all the colors of the room.
When we sit down, I’m aware of faces turning to us. Diners are recognizing Keagan. There aren’t any cameras inside, and we’re not here to make an announcement, but I know they’re taking note of my face. Tomorrow, the photo of us kissing will be all over the internet. If it isn’t already.
But for now, they don’t know who I am beyond speculation.
I’m starting to relax. The worst is over, and I can focus on being myself. Keagan is in a good mood. He orders a bottle of champagne. “To celebrate,” he says.
We are handed our menus, and Keagan asks for the specials. This world of fame and fortune is familiar to him, where I feel like a stranger that’s offered a glimpse into a life where I don’t belong.
Maybe, as time passes, I’ll get there. For now, I feel like an outsider.
“How are you feeling?” Keagan asks after we’ve ordered appetizers.
We’re drinking champagne, and the alcohol makes me feel light and airy.
“I’m okay, actually,” I say. “I feel better than I expected.”
Keagan smiles. “I’m glad it went well. Now, we can relax and enjoy our night.”
And we do. The food is fantastic. I eat until I can’t anymore, and everything feels special. Keagan is in the best mood, talkative and happy. Finally, when we get up to leave, he pulls me close to him and kisses me. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, but we ignore it.
“There are going to be a lot cameras outside,” Keagan says.
“More than before?”
He nods. “Word travels fast, and they come looking for something to print.”
I swallow. I thought it was over. I guess it’s only just beginning. Keagan takes my hand firmly and leads me to the door. When we step outside, lights flash all around us, and it’s so bright it’s like daylight. I’m blinded by camera flashes no matter where I look. Keagan was right. It’s a lot worse than when we arrived.
Keagan pulls me against him, his arm around my waist, and he’s smiling. I do the same. It seems like the safest route to take. I want to duck and run, but that would look like I have something to hide.
“Give us another kiss,” someone calls.
Keagan laughs and turns to me, planting his lips on mine. The kiss isn’t the same as before. It’s not sensual. It’s for show. I don’t like it, but I keep smiling. Maybe this is how it’s done.
“Is this a temporary thing?” someone asks.
Keagan shrugs. “Who’s to know what the future holds? I do know that we are in love, and that is all that matters. That will pull us through, and what will be, will be.”
My stomach twists when Keagan tells them that we’re in love. I must concentrate to keep the smile on my face. Everything Keagan does is for show, and I don’t want to be a part of it. I won’t throw him under the bus, though. I won’t make a public scene. I have to deal with this in private. This is what our life will be like.
I’m getting my first taste, and I don’t know if I like it.
Keagan says one or two more things, but I just smile at the cameras and let him speak. When he pulls me in for a final kiss, I speak to him before he can kiss me.
“Can we get out of here now?” I say it with a smile, and softly enough that no one else can hear me but him. “I can’t deal with this much longer.”
He nods and thankfully abandons his idea to kiss me. He calls it a night and guides me away from the cameras and to my car. He came in a cab so we can leave together.
When we’re in the car, locked in together, away from the attention, I can finally breathe again.
“How do you stand it?” I ask.
Keagan shrugs. “You get used to it. You learn how to deal with them and give them what they want.”
I glance at him as he switches on my car and pulls out of the parking space.
“Is that why you did it?” I ask.
“Did what?”
I take a deep breath. “Told them that we’re in love. Were you just giving them what they want?”
Keagan shakes his head and looks sideways at me, puzzled.
“No. I said it because that’s the truth.”
I shake my head. “Did you ask me?”
He blinks. “What?”
“Did you ask me if that was what I felt, or did you just decide for yourself?”
Keagan doesn’t hesitate. “I didn’t think I had to ask.”
“I would have liked it if you did. You can’t know what I’m thinking, or what I’m feeling.”
Keagan shakes his head. “I thought we knew what we felt for each other.”
I nod, looking out of the passenger window.
“I know what I feel for you, Keagan, but I would have liked the opportunity to tell you before you just took it as a given.”
“I don’t understand why you’re upset,” he says. “It’s not a big deal.”
I’m angry now. “It’s a big deal to me. It’s my heart we’re talking about here, and my emotions. Everything we’ve been doing has been behind closed doors, but this? I didn’t want you to just assume. I keep giving myself to you, again and again, but you don’t once ask me what I’m feeling.”
“Dana,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish. I shake my head.
“No more, Keagan,” I say. We stop at a traffic light, and I suddenly can’t stand being around him. Not if he will dictate who I should be. He doesn’t get to call the shots just because we fell into each other’s arms and each other’s laps.
I open the door and get out.
“What are you doing?” Keagan asks. “Get in the car.”
“This is how it is?” I ask. “You’re just going to tell me what to do?”
He’s angry now, too. I can see it on his face. His eyes blaze, and he’s clenching his jaw.
“I don’t need this shit from you,” he says. “It’s a big deal to me to sacrifice my reputation for you. And the moment I do, you get pissed at me?”
I slam the door shut, cutting him off. I don’t want to hear what he sacrificed for me. We’ve both made equal sacrifices. He’s not better than I am.
Keagan is pissed off that I cut off his sentence by closing the door.
“Fine!” he shouts, loud enough that I hear his muffled voice through the closed door. He floors it and speeds off into the night.
I’m alone in the middle of LA. It’s dark, and I don’t have anything with me other than my little handbag that matches the dress. I start walking in the direction of my parents’ studio. I can’t think where else to go. I can’t call my friends, and my parents’ place is the closest. I wrap my arms around myself and start shivering, even though I’m not cold.
Did I make a mistake?
Chapter 27
Keagan
At first, after Dana got out of the car in the middle of nowhere, I was angry. She was being ridiculous, I told myself, and I didn’t want to deal with her drama. I didn’t like being cut off in the middle of my sentences, and I went through a lot to go public so that neither of us had to worry.
I expected she would come home with a cab or something.
When she didn’t come home at all, I started to worry. The next few days I tried to call her, but she wouldn’t answer.
Now, it’s Friday, and I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing. I just know that she wants nothing to do with me. At first, I was angry about that, too. She was just overreacting. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why she was angry.
All I want to do now is tell her that I’m sorry and make it right. But I don’t know where the hell she is.
Our photo was all over the news, but the thrill of it all, the rush of going public, was tainted. I don’t care now what we do, or what happens, as long as I can speak to her.
I keep running scenarios through my mind where something went wrong, and she’s not okay. I should
n’t have left her alone in the streets in the middle of the night. But I was angry.
All that anger is gone now. All that’s left is regret and worry and the feeling that whatever I did before to make it work, it was all for nothing.
I leave work early because I can’t concentrate on my work. I keep checking my phone, but I know she won’t call me. Not if she’s not answering my calls. I haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened, not even Mason. Everyone is still talking about us going public. I can’t exactly tell them how short-lived our bliss was.
I decide to go talk to my dad. If someone can give me advice, it’s him. He’s not very happy about our relationship, but he’ll be straight with me, and right now, I am in desperate need of advice.
When I go the studio, it’s closed for the day. I frown and walk to the door that leads upstairs to their apartment above. I knock on the door. It clicks from the inside as someone unlocks it, and the door swings open.
Dana stands in front of me like a vision.
“God, Dana, I’ve been worried sick about you,” I say.
She doesn’t answer me. She just shrugs. She’s wearing track suit pants that belong to Susan and a t-shirt with a peace sign in flowers on it. Her hair hangs around her face, and she has dark circles beneath her eyes like she hasn’t slept very much.
“What do you want, Keagan?” she asks. She sounds as tired as she looks.
“I wanted advice from my dad, but now that you’re here, it’s so much better.”
She rolls her eyes, leaves the door open, and walks to the living room where she sits down on the couch. I sit down, too.
“Please talk to me,” I say.
“What do you want me to say?”
She doesn’t sound happy. I don’t blame her.
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything,” I say. “I’m the one that has to do the talking.”
She pulls her legs up so that her feet are on the couch, and she hugs her knees to her chest. She looks defensive and vulnerable. Large windows look out over the street, and I look at the view that she seems to be studying so intently.