“I don’t say a thing I don’t mean. Go ahead, tell me something interesting about yourself.”
CoCo took a moment to think, then said, “Well, I speak fluent Italian, decent French and a tiny bit of Russian.”
His brows rose. “That is impressive. Benefit of being shuttled between parents who live on opposite continents?”
“Mostly. But European school systems are different than here in the States. It’s just natural for most kids to speak more than one language. I don’t want to sound superior anything but the European school system is much more rigorous.”
“Makes sense. Although if I was required to learn more than one language I probably would’ve failed high school. English was hard enough.” He chuckled. “But that’s actually kind of cool that you’re fluent in so many other languages.”
She smiled. “It comes in handy when ordering in fancy restaurants. I’m usually the only one who knows what I’m actually ordering.”
He laughed. “Are you the designated orderer when you go to restaurants with your friends?”
She nodded. “Yes. But I don’t mind. I like being helpful when I can.”
That must’ve amazed him. “Tell me something else about yourself that would surprise me.”
“Why?” Were they actually having a decent conversation? She wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. Keeping a professional distance might help with the annoying flits of excitement tickling her stomach each time she caught him smiling. He had nice, kissable lips when he wasn’t being a colossal toad. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like that we’re not trying to kill each other right now but I’m not quite sure why you’re suddenly being so nice.”
He sighed, stretching out his legs as he confessed, “Look, I was a jerk when we first met. There’s something about you that gets under my skin. I grew up really poor. I’m talking the kind of poverty that no one likes to think about. It makes it hard to see all these people who have so much act so crappy to their fellow human beings. I’ve always believed that if you have extra you should give a little extra. But that doesn’t seem to be the prevailing attitude around here. Los Angeles is a whole other world and not a very generous one from what I can see.”
“I try to donate when I can. I mean, I don’t do it as much as I should but I have a few charities that I like to donate to.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re an heiress and you never have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, but when I was growing up I went days without food. My old man was a bastard drunk, and a mean one at that. If it weren’t for my older brother—well, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t be here today. Being hungry is something kids should never have to experience. There are basic rights a human being should have and food is one of them.”
CoCo didn’t know how to respond. She’d never gone a day in her life knowing the pangs of hunger. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that. You’re right, every kid deserves food. But that’s really no reason to take it out on me just because I didn’t experience the same kind of childhood. I don’t mean to ruin this nice moment we’re having but you came at me with an attitude from the moment we met. And it wasn’t really fair. You didn’t know me from anyone and you judged me.”
“True,” he admitted. “However, I hate to say this but I wasn’t too far off the mark. I might’ve come off a little brusque but you were worse. What’s that say about you?”
“It says that I don’t like strangers crashing my party,” she answered coolly. “If I was nice to every single person who just randomly walked up to me, who knows who I’d be inviting into my life? I might not know what it’s like to live in extreme poverty but you don’t know what it’s like to live with extreme wealth. People can’t be trusted most times. Your inner circle becomes smaller and smaller and it’s out of necessity, not because you don’t like people. You never know who wants to rip you off.”
He was openly confused. “If that was the case, why did you have a house filled with people that you didn’t even know? You can’t tell me that all those people who came to your party are your personal friends. I guarantee half of those people were only there because they wanted to say they’d attended a CoCo Abelli party. I hate to break it to you, princess, but you have a reputation and it isn’t a pretty one.”
She blinked. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Why do you think the paparazzi follow you? It’s because you’re always getting yourself into trouble. Getting drunk, wardrobe malfunctions, partying too hard...it paints a picture.”
“It’s not my fault that photographers follow me around,” she said bitterly, embarrassed. “What if someone with a camera was always in your face every time that you went out? You can’t tell me that you haven’t made mistakes, maybe drank a little too much or whatever with friends. I make a mistake and it ends up all over the tabloids. That’s not my fault.”
“I’m sorry I don’t buy the ‘poor me’ routine. You put yourself in these positions and they capitalize on them. You say I don’t know what it’s like to have extreme wealth, you’re right. I don’t. But I know for certain I wouldn’t be out getting drunk and giving the paparazzi so much to work with.”
“You don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s an expectation and understanding that if you run in certain circles you’re going to have to host certain parties.”
“Screw those circles. Doesn’t sound like the kind of circle I’d want to be in.”
“It’s easy for you to judge because you don’t live my life.”
“Absolutely. It’s also easy for me to see that what you’re doing isn’t healthy. You’re too close to the situation, you can’t see that you’re screwing up your life.”
She didn’t have to listen to this. Or did she? Where was she supposed to go? She was stuck in a tiny room. “Okay, story hour is over. Somehow we can’t even have a basic conversation without insulting one another. How about we just spend the next couple of days refraining from saying a single word to one another. Sound like a plan?”
“I have one final thing to say about this, because it seems like no one else in your life has the balls to tell you what you don’t want to hear. Anyone who would encourage you to get shit-faced drunk or high on pills doesn’t care about you—you’re simply the entertainment for the night. So you have money... No one says you have to act like an asshole. You could be giving. You could be generous. You could make lives better for other people. But instead you spend your time thinking only of yourself and how everything in the world affects you. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but the world is bigger than the circle you’re occupying.”
6
WHY COULDN’T HE KEEP his damn mouth shut? Things had been going smoothly—and then he had to go and lay all that truth on her like a load of bricks. It wasn’t his job to be her Jiminy Cricket. If she didn’t have a conscience about how she spent her life or how she frittered away her blessings, that was her problem. So why did it bother him so much that she refused to see the truth? He didn’t know her, not really. True, all he knew about her was from the tabloids and maybe that was his fault for only caring to look that deep, but it drove him crazy when people did so little for their fellow man.
“You know, I’ve seen people with so little to their names that they could carry everything they owned on their person, and yet they’ll be the first to offer you something if you need it. And then I’ve worked with people who owned yachts and mansions and throw lavish parties for their dogs but wouldn’t drop a dollar into a collection cup. There’s something wrong with the world when that’s okay.”
“Not everyone has to live by your definition of generosity,” she shot back hotly. “No one has to toe the line because you say so.”
“Maybe not but I think the world would be better off if they did. Every year I donate a big chunk of my i
ncome to charitable causes because I know what it’s like to go home hungry, to be cold, to wear clothes two sizes too small. My brother used to dig through a trash can behind a restaurant so that we could have food. Your idea of roughing it is staying at a place like this. When I was a kid this would’ve been the Taj Mahal. It’s all about perspective, I guess. It’s just my opinion, but I think you have a screwed-up sense of what’s right and what’s wrong in this world, princess. So yeah, my judgment comes on pretty strong because I’ve lived it.”
“But it’s not my fault that you were poor,” she said, blinking back tears. “Do you treat everyone who has money like this? All of your clients are rich. Do you treat them like dirt simply because they have more money than you?”
“No, of course not,” he said, frustrated. “But for some reason with you, it bothers me. It bothers me a lot. I know you could be a better person.”
What had he just said? He needed a roll of duct tape to stick across his mouth because he was saying all sorts of loopy things. “Arrrgh! You’re right, this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have started this conversation. I’m sorry I got sucked into it. From now on no more talking of personal stuff. Let’s just keep things superficial and we’ll be cool. Yeah?”
“Fine,” she agreed grumpily. “I’m going to shower.” She scooted from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom and he was glad. He needed time to get his head on straight. How could things disintegrate so quickly between them? There was something about her that twisted him sideways—and maybe what bothered him the most was that he couldn’t stop looking at her. Everything about her represented something he didn’t believe in but his eyes sure liked what he saw. He couldn’t seem to stop noticing the way the slender column of her neck joined the soft flesh of her shoulders, and how her eyes lit up with passion when she was putting him in his place. It was stupid and he didn’t like the way his heart jammed to a foreign beat whenever his gaze strayed to her ass or her breasts.
For one, he shouldn’t even be looking at her like that—he never messed around with clients, that was bad business. For two, there was nothing about CoCo that encouraged a casual hookup and he didn’t have the time or the interest for anything beyond a superficial good time.
He fell back on the bed, listening as the shower started. Great. Now he was thinking of her naked. He rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the images his imagination gleefully threw at him. She had a smoking-hot body—there were plenty of pictures on the internet of CoCo in a bikini—and she had that European mystique coupled with a California sass that was hard to forget about. As if he needed another complication, his cock tried to get in on the action by suddenly tenting his jeans. Good gravy, that’s all he needed—CoCo seeing that he was rock hard. That would horrify them both. He pushed at his cock with an irritated growl. Settle down, not gonna happen. He popped up from the bed and gathered their trash from lunch and stuffed it into the small wastebasket, then slid the chain across the door before taking his gun and double-checking his rounds. He hated to admit it but CoCo was right—they might die from boredom in this hotel room.
He’d never been so out of control of his emotions before. He knew how to keep it together under most circumstances but CoCo seemed to tip him on his head without even trying. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would’ve holed up with some puzzle books or something, anything to pass the time. But he’d been so hell-bent on taking CoCo someplace that would make her miserable that he hadn’t actually thought things through. That was dangerous. He’d done screwed the pooch. Kane would slap him silly if he knew. Okay, so time to get back to basics. They’d cool it here for the night and then tomorrow they’d leave for a different place. Maybe the Ojai ranch. When his brother married Laci, she’d come with a nice spread in Ojai and they often used the ranch when they wanted to get out of the city. It was remote enough without being in the sticks and close enough to Los Angeles to be convenient. It was far nicer than this place for sure.
But first, he had to see if it was available.
He dialed Kane. “Hey, man,” he said once Kane answered. “Is anyone at the ranch right now?”
“Yeah, sorry. While Laci is off tour we’re letting her hairdresser and costume designer stay there. Why?”
Disappointment colored his voice. “I was hoping to use it for a few days.”
“Sorry, man. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said a bit too quickly and Kane caught it.
“Let’s pretend that we went a couple of rounds where you continue to deny anything is wrong so we can actually get to the point and find out what’s really happening.”
He didn’t need to hear what he knew his brother would say so he cut it short. “Nothing. I just wanted to get out of the city.”
“You can come here,” Kane offered. “Laci and I are going to Montana for a few weeks. You could hole up here if you want.”
Head back to Woodsville? Not a chance. Just because Kane and Laci had built a love nest on the Bradford ranch didn’t mean that Rian had an itch to do the same. He loved them all but he didn’t love Woodsville. Too many bad memories.
“I’m good,” he told Kane. “Enjoy Montana.”
“Well, if you change your mind, the spare key is under the pump.”
“I won’t but thanks.”
“Suit yourself. See you in a few weeks, little brother.”
Rian clicked off and sighed, wondering what he was going to do. Just keep your hands to yourself and everything will be just fine, he told himself.
Should be easy enough, right?
* * *
COCO STEPPED GINGERLY into the tiny shower, grimacing as she glanced around, trying not to imagine how many germs and cooties were bouncing around just waiting to climb onto her skin. A tiny sliver of soap rested on the ledge and she stared unhappily at the obviously used toiletry. Her revulsion nearly sent her screaming from the shower into a full-fledged diva meltdown until she remembered what Rian had told her about his childhood. Had he really eaten from the trash? Was he just saying that for effect?
She didn’t know him at all but she sensed that he’d been totally honest. Maybe it was the way he’d seemed slightly ashamed once the hot words had escaped his mouth, or maybe the way his eyes had flashed with rage at the indignity, but it’d felt real. He probably hadn’t meant to share so much, she realized. That’s probably not something she’d want to share, either.
Gritting her teeth, she picked up the soap and, after rinsing it thoroughly, lathered up. It smelled like straight lye and would probably dry her skin to paper but at least she’d be clean. If she’d known they were going to hole up in hell, she would’ve showered at her mom’s place before leaving. She’d mistakenly assumed he was going to take her to the Four Seasons or some other suitably luxurious hotel. She cast her gaze around the sorry bathroom and shuddered at how off the mark she’d been.
The fact that he’d done this to her on purpose, perhaps to teach her a lesson, really burned. It was hard not to fall headlong into a temper tantrum but she held it back—only because she didn’t want to further fuel his clichéd expectations of her. She hated that he thought so little of her but there wasn’t much she could say that would change his mind because she hadn’t really done much to crow about. But why should she feel guilty about that? Was it her fault that she’d been born to money and he hadn’t? Why was it okay for him to punish her for something that had been out of her control?
She scrubbed a little harder. He didn’t have the right to judge her for anything. So what if she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made a sizable donation to her favorite charity? Her father made giant donations every year to a number of causes in the family name. So, in a way, she’d donated, too. Oh, that was flimsy, even by her standards. The fight evaporated and she was left with a black hole of sadness that felt familiar even as she tried to ignore it.
All
her life she’d tried to fight that gnawing ache inside her, and it felt a lot like this. She ducked under the spray and tried to stop sinking further but Rian’s words weighed on her. No one expected anything from her because she rarely mattered. Even though she adored her father, it wasn’t as if he’d actually had a hand in raising her. She’d had countless nannies to do that. And her mother hadn’t been much better.
CoCo had been an afterthought, a pretty extension of the family name, brought out at parties and then returned to the nursery when it suited them. Tears burned under her lids. Why was she crying? What was wrong with her? It was Rian’s fault. Everything had been fine until Rian had shown up sowing seeds of unhappiness and discontent. Hadn’t she had a blast at her party last night? Yeah, up until that dickhead Drake had decided to push things too far. Well, that was an isolated incident. Before that, everything had been peachy. So the problem was clearly Rian.
CoCo shut off the water and snatched the scratchy towel from the rack. She wrapped the towel around her with a grimace as it scraped against her tender skin and then she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. The towel was barely larger than a hand towel and hardly covered her but she didn’t care. If Rian wanted to be her babysitter, then he could do it on her terms. She was going out tonight.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting up straight as an arrow, his eyes wide. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“You know what, this is bullshit. I don’t want to sit in this dinky, gross, completely unsuitable hotel for the next few days with nothing but your judgment to keep me occupied so I’m going out tonight. If you want to babysit me, fine, then you’re going to have to do it while I’m having some fun.”
“Like hell you are. Now get some clothes on,” he growled and she taunted him with a smile.
What are you going to do about it?
He shot her with a warning look. “I mean it. Don’t test me, CoCo.”
“What? You don’t like me in my towel? Is there something wrong?” she asked coyly, enjoying the sudden flush in his cheeks as she toyed with him. This was the way to rattle him, she realized with a spurt of enjoyment. He’d brought her to this place as a punishment and, well, she had ways of punishing him, too. “I wonder what would happen if I did...this?” Then in a deliberate move she dropped the towel to the floor, and she smiled as she watched Rian’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.
Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes Page 5
