by Lux, Vivian
"Go on, pull it out and show me."
God, she was terrifying. "It's… a little wrinkled…"
"We'll have it steamed," she snipped.
I pulled out the rumpled, dark green heap. It was my favorite dress, worn only once. I had always liked how the subtle sheen changed from green to orange, but Annie looked completely horrified. "Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"The altar is blue and silver. You'll look like a fungus up there."
"Gee, thanks, Annie."
She waved her hands. "It's no matter. You'll go find another one."
"I will?" Annie had a way of making me sound like an especially stupid parrot.
"I have accounts at Bellamy, Justine's, and Paloma Veldt." She was already half out the door, ready to attack the next problem on her list. "Go to Justine's first."
"Wait!'
"Yes, Liliana?"
"You trust me? To find my own dress? One that doesn't look like…" I bit off a smile. "…fungus?"
Her gaze softened somewhat. "Of course I trust you Lily." Then she snapped out of it. "I'll call ahead, have them pull a selection."
"Gee, thanks," I repeated, sitting down heavily on my bed. I didn't go shopping much for a reason. Most clothes cut for women didn't fit me. I shopped in the kids' section for blouses, tees, and jeans, then had them tailored to fit my curves. Dress shopping was a complete an utter nightmare. "Can't wait."
Diggs knocked softly on my open door. "Can't wait for what, Lil?" He held out a plate. "Heard you were hungry."
"Oh my God, you just saved me from certain death." I lunged for the turkey on rye, happy he remembered the pickle.
"Glad I could help."
"You always do," I mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. I swallowed greedily and crunched the pickle. "Can you make me another one tomorrow? I need all of my strength before I have to go… dress shopping." I winced just saying the words. "Apparently, the one I chose is going to clash with the altar scheme."
I thought I would make him laugh, but instead Diggs just looked pensive. "Well, if she thinks so, she's probably right. Annie didn't get where she was by leaving things to chance. She's always at least three steps ahead of the rest of us. Not much gets past her."
My heart flopped sideways as he casually leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, and I was certain he could hear every guilty beat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jax
I wasn't staring. Just keeping track of things.
That's what I was telling myself, anyway.
That's how I knew that Liliana's door had been shut since last night. It was fucking pitiful, really, the way I kept my ears pricked for any sounds from her bedroom. A few times I heard the clack of keys, and once or twice, an explosive sigh that brought me to my feet, ready to knock on her door. But I pussied out every time, and Lily stayed cloistered.
When the morning rolled around with me barely having slept, I rose, disgusted with myself, and pulled on my workout clothes. I needed to get the fuck out of this house.
Annie and Nails had chosen the house with the view, rather than the house with access, so I ran down the winding drive and cut over a block to the footpath that led down to the beach. Windsprints in the sand would do the trick. I would drive Lily's shut bedroom door from my brain by brute force. Or die in the attempt.
I ran to the point of dry-heaving, but Lily's door was still shut in my face. Defeated, I limped back up the footpath and up to the house, wishing that we had rehearsal scheduled today. I needed to get away from here, from her, but every time I came up with something, I immediately found a reason why I shouldn't go.
I was going to stay here until that girl opened her door, and there was no pretending like that wasn't the truth.
Feeling like the most pathetic, pussy-whipped piece of shit in the universe, I dragged my sorry ass up the drive and stopped short when I saw the delivery truck by the door.
"Hey there," the driver called. "I rang the bell, but no one was home."
"There's always someone home," I grumbled. "Hang on." I opened the front door. "Yo!"
"The fuck you yelling about?" Crusty Pete hung his head. Diggs gave me a faint, watery smile and Bash groaned.
"You bunch of drunks," I chuckled. "Get up. There's a big-ass truck in the driveway."
Bash smacked his head with his open palm. "Ah, shit, he's here already?" He lumbered to the window, looking confused at the curtains that blocked his vision before remembering to push them aside. "Well, fuck me, look at that. Why didn't he knock?"
"Says he did. You all need hearing aids, apparently."
"Rock and roll will do that you," Greg Fingers grinned. "This tinnitus is a bitch."
"Says he rang the bell."
"Well, that's his problem. The damn doorbell is the same exact tone as the ringing in my ears. I can't hear that shit. Yo!" He yanked open the door. "Whaddya got?"
The driver called something unintelligible to me, but somehow tinnitus-Greg heard it perfectly. "That's the lumber for the pergola," he said, turning to look me up at down. "You feel like banging some nails today?"
"Who's banging me?" Nails wandered into the living room scratching his belly.
"Got the wood for the pergola, Nails," Bash piped up. "Gotta get to work building it today.
"What the fuck is a pergola? No… wait," he held up his hand and grimaced, "Annie told me and it's something very important that I definitely know all about."
"I'm telling her you weren't listening," I teased.
"Boy, I will fuck up your life," he growled, and I laughed even harder.
This was good. I hadn't looked at Lily's door in the last five minutes. I was already sweaty, and at least this would give me something to do with my hands other than jack off.
"I can help," I offered.
The guys looked at me, surprised. Nails gave me that odd, fond smile again, and I couldn't help but fuck with him. "I mean, I woke up this morning feeling like I wanted to bang something today. Didn't think it'd be Nails, though."
The guys groaned. "That's just wrong." Diggs shook his head.
"I'm just wrong," I assured them.
"Okay, it's just like load-in, except we're building an altar instead of a stage. Let's do this!" Bash's enthusiasm was met with a chorus of groans and lifted middle fingers, but the guys hauled themselves to their feet all the same. "Damn, boy, you're giving Crusty Pete a run for his money this morning," Bash told me, waving his nose as we trooped out onto the deep front porch.
"It's called exercising, Bash." I grinned, following him out to the truck. "You might try it some time." I did not look over my shoulder at Lily's shut door. Okay, one little peek.
It was shut.
"The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin'," Bash declared, patting his gut proudly. "And I bet I can lift more than you, anyway."
"We'll see, old man."
Greg leapt up into the open trailer and began sliding the twisted pieces of wood toward the end. The branches were polished to a high-gloss, but still retained their natural shape. They were pretty, but really fucking awkward to carry.
"Hey, grab that end, will you?" I hefted the trunk end, leaving Bash to deal with the twisted branch end.
"Jesus," he panted, hauling it onto his shoulders, "what is this thing made of, iron?"
"Don't you, like, lift stacks of amps for a living?" Nails called. "How the fuck do you think this is heavy?"
I chuckled as the six of us hauled the first load down the steeply sloped lawn toward the cliff overlooking the ocean. I could feel my muscles straining and a good, heavy burn starting in my lungs. And I wasn't thinking about Lily at all.
Except right then.
If she looked out her window right now, she would probably wonder why the hell we were carrying trees across the lawn."
And again right there.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Liliana
I twisted sideways, tugging at the drooping bodice. The sagg
ing black fabric exactly matched my mood. "No, I don't think so."
"I think it will look lovely, once we get it fitted." The poor salesgirl sounded like she was at the end of her rope and I felt perversely guilty.
"Look," I said tiredly, letting the dress fall in a heap around my sneakers. "I really appreciate all of the personal attention today, but I don't want to waste your time anymore."
She looked relieved. "I'm sure you'll find a dress, Miss Nesbit. Thank you for shopping at Bellamy. Please give Miss Blue our sincere congratulations."
"Yup," I said, yanking my shirt back on. Two stores down, one to go. If Paloma Veldt's didn't have something on the rack that fit me, Annie was just going to have to accept a fungus-colored stepdaughter on the altar with her.
I shot my salesgirl a rueful smile and headed out into the relentless sunshine, where I was immediately swallowed up by the crowds of gorgeous, healthy, model-esque people flitting from yoga classes to juice bars. I felt like a Hobbit amongst the elves. And then I felt like a total nerd for making that comparison.
Paloma Veldt's was on the same block of storefronts that looked like they had been built only yesterday. After only a year away, my eyes had grown accustomed to New York's grit and history. Everything here was shining and brand-spanking new.
And that included the people. A limber-looking guy with a man-bun and a yoga mat tucked under his arm shot me a smile as I passed him. He looked like the kind of guy who read poetry, who donated to charities, and who liked to cuddle. The type who would make sweet, tender love to me and possibly tear up afterward. Exactly the kind of guy I always told myself I needed to find. I waited to feel something, anything, like attraction. But all I could think was that he wasn't Jax.
You're a complete disaster today, I muttered to myself as I pushed open the door to Paloma's. Dress-shopping is only going to add to your misery. I was feeling dark, bleak and just wanted to lock myself in my room and lick my wounds. Instead I let my fingers dance along the racks of gorgeous dresses as the memory came flooding back.
I stabbed the off button on the TV, my breath coming in short, staccato gasps. "No one special," he had said. I was waiting for him to say my name, but instead he dismissed me, dismissed us…
Anger launched me off the couch. I threw on yesterday's clothes in a rumpled mess and headed for the door of the studio.
Greg Fingers looked up from the paper he was reading in the front office. "Mornin', Bit," he greeted me. Thank God he was already stoned and didn't seem to care why I had been asleep in the studio.
"Have you seen Jax?" I demanded.
His eyes went unfocused for a moment and I bit my lip impatiently. "Greg, where's Jaxson?" I snapped.
He came back like he was swimming up from the depths. "Party. At Annie's room."
The Chateau. "Thanks, Greg."
"Hey, Bit, what's going on with your hair?" He seemed genuinely confused. I touched my brown mop and felt the snarls. Jaxson's fingers had made a mess of it.
"New look I'm trying," I said, angrily biting off my words and pushing my way into the merciless California sunshine.
The words “walk of shame” were used too casually. The heap of shame that weighed down on my shoulders almost slowed me to a crawl. I hung my head up until the moment I pushed the door to Annie's penthouse a little wider.
Girls. Everywhere. I didn't know them. But they sure seemed to know Jax.
I saw red.
"Can I get you something to drink, Jaxy?" one of them simpered. It was ten in the goddamned morning and he was under twenty-one, but from the look of her, getting Jax drunk was her topmost priority.
He smiled at her. "I'd love a Jack and Coke."
"You'd love it?" I called from the foyer. I meant to sound bitingly sarcastic, but it came out more as a deranged screech. Everyone in the room turned to look at me. I could see myself in the reflection of the glass-walled entryway. Puffy face, splotchy with anger, my hair a snarled rat's nest haloing my head. I looked unhinged. One of the girls tittered nervously.
"Hey, Bit," Jax called casually. "You look like you had a rough night."
The girls laughed harder. I ignored them. "You'd love a Jack and Coke. Is that like how you love me?"
"What the hell are you going on about?'
"The interview?" My voice was rising into the stratosphere. " 'No one special?' "
All of the female heads swiveled to look at him. His hands, which had been at his knees as he leaned forward listening, went behind his head. He laced his fingers casually and looked at me with that arrogant smirk that made my blood boil.
"Bit, why don't you go shower, get dressed, and come back? Get a cup of coffee while you're at it. You're not making sense."
I shook my head slowly. There was still an ache between my legs from last night, when I had lost my …when he had taken ….
"You didn't mean a word of it," I whispered.
His cocky smile faltered a little bit and he cast a hasty look around at our audience. "You're deluded."
"You're a cocky asshole," I shot back.
He leaned back and nodded at me. "You got that right, babe."
The heartbreak of watching the interview, seeing him publicly deny me, was one thing. But standing there while he posed and postured in front of an all-female audience, living out his basest rock star fantasies the morning after he told me he loved me…
That's what I could never forgive. No matter how my body ached for him, there was still that undeniable truth: he was a cocky asshole and would only break my heart again if I let him into my life.
Of course, there was the slight problem of him being in my life forever now.
I walked up to the counter. "Hi, I'm…" my voice faltered and I pressed my fingers in to the shining blonde wood. The icy blonde behind the counter raised an eyebrow at me. "Sorry. I'm just trying to get used to saying the words out loud. This is the first time I've ever said them to a stranger. Let me start again, okay?" I swallowed. "You were supposed to have some dresses set aside for me for a wedding this weekend? I'm Liliana Nesbit, Annie Blue's future stepdaughter?" I cleared my throat. "Jaxson Blue's future stepsister?"
Chapter Thirty
Jax
"Slow down, Jax." Bash was sweating.
"I am going slow." I paused and switched the wood to the other shoulder. This was the last piece off the truck. "Watch out for that mud right there."
"Right where?" Bash stepped right where I was pointing. "Oh, fuck me sideways!" he cried as his footing gave way.
His creative cursing was no use. The heavy piece of wood fell to the ground and began rolling toward the cliff edge. "Grab that!" I shouted to Diggs, who nodded and began sprinting. Bash took off after him and I was about to follow suit when a shrill voice screeched across the lawn.
"Jaxson, what the hell are you doing?"
I heaved a sigh and turned around. My mom wavered down the lawn. "I'm moving wood, Mom. What does it look like?"
"Looks like you're fucking around to me," she snarled.
Lovely. She was half in the bag and it wasn't even noon yet. "Yeah, I'm fucking around, Mom. Whatever you say."
She nodded briskly as I confirmed her suspicions. "Instead of standing there with your thumb up your ass, I need you to do something for me."
I wiped my face with my t-shirt. It was fucking hot today and I was too tired for her shit. "Yeah, Mom, whaddya need?" The guys were already hammering the pergola into place with the efficiency of years on the road together. I looked at them wistfully.
"I need you to pick up Aunt Fiona's dress from the shop and run it to Salvatore."
I stared at her. She couldn't be making less sense than if she had suddenly started speaking Russian. "Seriously, Annie? You have like, four personal assistants. Why exactly do you need me to pick up Fifi's dress?"
Then I noticed it. The wild look in my mother's eyes, the one that would frighten a lesser man. No wonder Nails had busied himself with the altarpiece. His big, burly, bearded b
ravado was no match for my mother in Bridezilla mode.
"Because, I am asking my son, who loves me and is grateful for all I have given him, to help me out," she slurred.
I wiped my face again. "Christ, Mom, lay it on a little thicker," I sighed. There was no getting out of this. "I'll get the stupid dress. Just let me shower first."
She turned with a satisfied smirk, secure in the knowledge that once again she had gotten her way. And now, it seemed I was off to a dress shop. How perfect.
*****
If I didn't recognize the place right off the bat, they sure recognized me. "Can I help you find something, Mr. Blue?" The tall, willowy blonde behind the counter was straight-up batting her lashes. "Something for your… girlfriend, perhaps?"
"I don't have a girlfriend," I snapped, too hastily. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image of Bit that had wedged itself in the forefront of my mind's eye.
The ice queen's lips curled seductively, and for a second I could see the wolfish hunger in her eyes before she snapped back into flirtation. "That's a good thing," she cooed, licking her cherry-red lips.
I cut her off right there. "I'm here to pick up an order."
Then I mentally smacked my head. A shop girl… obviously a fan… This would have been the easiest lay ever.
But I didn't give a shit about her, or her flirting. I was just irritated that she'd even try.
Her manicured brows knitted together. "What's the name?" she asked, all the warmth drained out of her voice.
I wondered if she was one of the gossipy types who sold blind items to the tabloids. Then I realized I really, truly, did not care. "My mom's," I told her, checking my phone.
"Right away." Ice Queen snapped smartly around and headed to the back room. Was she actually wiggling her ass at me? Why was that hilarious?
I turned and ran my hand idly along the racks. The store was softly lit with warm, recessed lighting. The light oak fixtures set off the scattered furniture that looked like it belonged in a thrift store, but I was sure actually sold for thousands of dollars.
