Entangled Hearts

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Entangled Hearts Page 9

by Yahrah St. John


  Two hours later at an exclusive boutique on Rodeo Drive, Kenya had tried on several form-fitting dresses that fit like a second skin on her behind, but eventually she, Penelope, and Fiona had settled on one: a reverse V-neck, cutout mini-dress that would shock, awe and inspire envious glances. This cocktail dress had a sexy piping, corset-style top with a V-neckline and exquisite lace trim with a padded bust that made her breasts look like they were tumbling out. Megan was styling the dress with dangling spike earrings, finished with high-gloss stilettos and a sequined clutch.

  “You are rocking that dress,” Fiona said from the sidelines. “And when Lucas sees you in it, he’s going to wish he was dating you for real.”

  “Thanks.” Kenya gave a half-hearted smile. “I’m going to get undressed and ready for dance rehearsal.” As she closed the door behind her to the dressing room, that very same scenario was what Kenya was afraid of. That kiss from Lucas the other night was a complication she hadn’t expected and certainly didn’t need. She didn’t need Lucas trying to get close to her, to Chynna this week. She needed to keep him at bay because if he should get too close, he might realize the truth. If that should happen, it was only a matter of time before Chynna would have to come forward, and Kenya didn’t want that. Not just because Chynna needed the time and space away from the spotlight, but because as hard as it was, it was kind of fun to be someone else for a change. Kenya was enjoying stepping outside herself for a while and trying something new.

  Lucas stared at the latest sales reports for his low-performing artists, but it might as well have been in a foreign language because he couldn’t focus on them. He threw them down on his cherry wood desk and leaned back in his executive chair and rubbed his head.

  Chynna. Damn that woman. She’d been in his thoughts ever since that kiss last night. Rather than review sales, he’d much prefer to be at the dance rehearsal watching Chynna sashay those curves of hers across the dance floor, watch the sweat form on her bosom and wish that she was sweating underneath him as he pumped deep inside her.

  Oh Lord!! Lucas shook his head. What the hell was happening to him? He’d never been this horny for a woman before and certainly not without acting on it to relieve himself. Problem was, the moment he’d decided he’d like to take Chynna James to bed was the moment she’d decided she was no longer interested. Of course, her response to him last night had proved she wasn’t as immune to him as she protested, yet that brought him little solace. He was not used to having to court to get a woman’s favor. With his stature in Hollywood, women came to him. So, it was a bit disconcerting that he might actually have to romance a woman.

  Lucas chuckled. Guess I’m about to find out if chivalry isn’t dead after all.

  Kenya was nervous yet excited as she sat waiting for Carter Wright to come into his office. Several minutes ago, his perky brunette assistant had let her in and offered her a bottle of Perrier, but Kenya was too nervous to drink. She’d dreamed of working with Carter her entire career, but the odds of an unknown actress such as herself on an underrated television series getting that opportunity was slim to none; but here she was in his office.

  She knew she wasn’t there based on her own talents, but rather Chynna’s name, but that still didn’t mean she wouldn’t give the performance of her life and convince him that Chynna was worth keeping on the film and not replacing with another actress. She’d done her homework and read the script from cover to cover.

  Kenya was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Carter come into the room until he was standing right in front of her.

  “Well, if it isn’t the elusive Chynna James,” Carter said. He glanced around the room. “And without her entourage,” he said with a thin-lipped smile. “I’m impressed.”

  Kenya rose from her chair with self-assured confidence to face the older Caucasian gentlemen. He was a tall man with nearly white hair and a beer belly, but he was a master of film. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking with you myself.”

  Carter raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s feeling confident today. Perhaps your two-week stint in obscurity played a part?”

  Kenya walked toward him and stared him directly in the eye. “I took some much needed time off, not only to allow the vultures time to cool their heels, but also to get my head back on straight and prepare myself for this film.”

  “I’m not sure there will be a film,” Carter responded. “The producers are skittish about pairing you and Blake together again after this incident. Blake and Giselle are America’s sweethearts, and you’re viewed as the interloper. They think the movie will tank if we move forward, and I can’t say that I disagree with them, especially given your performance prior to this debacle.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Chynna didn’t need this. Kenya needed to salvage Chynna’s film career. She couldn’t let it go up in smoke before it had even gotten started. “I appreciate your candor, Carter,” Kenya replied, “but I can assure you my performance will be much improved.”

  “You couldn’t deliver your lines with one shred of emotion.”

  “Try me,” Kenya boasted. She knew she was a damn good actress and could convince Carter Wright of Chynna’s capabilities.

  “Alright, Chynna, you’re on.” He went behind his desk and pressed the intercom button. “Suzie, get me Liam for a reading.”

  “Yes, Mr. Wright,” said the female voice on the other end.

  Kenya pulled off the cropped leather jacket that Megan had paired with her edgy skintight leather leggings and poplin white shirt, and she prepared to knock the socks off the director. He expected Chynna would be nervous and unprepared, but Kenya was going to deliver a stellar performance.

  Several minutes later, a ruddy-faced, blond man came into the office. “You wanted to see, Mr. Wright?”

  Carter waved him inside. “I sure did. I want you to read with Ms. James.” He flipped open the script. “Scene twelve.”

  Kenya knew the scene intimately. It was a scene that required Chynna to give a nuanced performance of sadness at losing her daughter before giving way to passion between her and the hero, which in this case, would be Liam. Carter was sure hitting below the belt with this one. Kenya wasn’t sure Chynna would have been able to pull off the scene in a cold read, but Kenya was a seasoned pro. She was used to working with actors she didn’t know.

  She sat down on the sofa and put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Kenya wailed. “She’s all that I had.”

  “I’m sorry, Yvette,” Liam said, reading his lines. “This must be difficult for you.”

  Kenya shook her head in despair. “I, I had no idea she was suffering. To, to find out this way ... at the end, when there’s no hope of recovery.” Kenya jumped off from the sofa and paced the room. “It’s not fair. How could this happen? How could I not know that my own child was sick?”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

  “It’s hard not to. I’m the parent, and I could lose my baby girl.” Kenya glanced up at him with tears in her eyes. “What am I going to do?”

  Liam placed the script down and came toward Kenya. “I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m here for you.” He lifted her cheek with one hand, and Kenya looked into his blue eyes. “If you ever need me for anything, I’m here.”

  Kenya let the seconds pass before she reached up and circled her hands around Liam’s neck. “I need you now,” she whispered. Seconds later, she kissed him with such passion that it took him by surprise, but not for long because he actually kissed her back.

  “Cut!” Carter yelled from behind his desk.

  Kenya pulled away from Liam, who looked like he had stars in his eyes from kissing the Chynna James, and she turned to the director. “So, how did I do?”

  Ten minutes later, Kenya walked out of Carter’s office on top of the world. She’d convinced the surly director that Chynna had what it took for the role and that she was focused
on the task at hand. She’d told him the notoriety would only lend itself to the film because people would want to go see if the rumors were true. Carter wasn’t sure he could convince the producers, but he was going to give it the old college try.

  When she slid into the limo waiting for her outside of the studio offices, Deacon was waiting for her inside. “Well?” he asked anxiously, ending the call he’d been on. “How did it go?”

  Kenya smiled, revealing even, white teeth. Deacon hadn’t been pleased when she’d insisted on going into the meeting with Wright by herself. He’d said she’d never met with him previously on her own, but Kenya had convinced Deacon that she needed to show Carter that she could stand on her own two feet. And she’d done exactly that.

  “How do you think it went?” she said snarkily, getting back into character. “I knocked his socks off.”

  “Good girl.” Deacon patted her thigh. “I always knew you could do this. I don’t know why you’ve been so down on yourself about your acting capability.”

  “I just needed some time away.”

  “The time with your sister clearly did the trick,” Deacon said. “I’m going to have to remember to utilize her more often.”

  Kenya turned sharply to glare at Deacon. “My sister is not someone you can use to whip me into shape.”

  Deacon lowered his head at Kenya’s crisp tone. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t how I meant it.”

  “How did you mean it?”

  “Only that if I’d known Kenya was your happy place, I would make sure your schedule permitted you to see her more often.”

  “Oh, okay,” Kenya said, leaning back into the plush limo cushions. She wanted to be sure Chynna’s entourage didn’t view her as a weapon they could use at will.

  “I’m on your side, kiddo,” Deacon said, slapping her knee. “Always have been.”

  Kenya offered a weak smile. “I know.” She didn’t know, but she hoped Chynna could depend on him.

  “Bigger, she needs bigger hair,” Fiona told Derrick who was completing Kenya’s look for Lucas’s birthday party the following evening. She was going to have to jump out of the birthday cake in the lacy bustier dress they’d found earlier in the day and sing “Happy Birthday” to Lucas. A few strategically placed members of the legitimate press and paparazzi would be on hand for the event. Fiona was sure the theatrical entrance would set their tongues wagging and have the press wondering what was going on between Lucas Kingston and his songstress Chynna James. That’s when they would capitalize on the interest and let it be known that Lucas and Chynna had been carrying on an affair for some time. Fiona had also arranged after the tour stop for Lucas and Chynna to appear on several morning and talk shows and reveal their relationship the next day.

  Kenya was not looking forward to not only having to act like Chynna on tour, but act like she was Lucas’s girlfriend as well. She was already walking a tightrope and had been doing a mighty fine job of it; but having to get close to Lucas was going to prove difficult if not impossible. She’d tried to push down the pulse of desire she’d felt when she was around him, had tried to act like it didn’t exist, but it did. She was going to have to limit her close proximity to Lucas as much as humanly possible to avoid tipping her hand.

  “Ready to slip into your dress?” Penelope asked.

  Kenya looked into the mirror of her dressing room and blanched. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. Staring back at her was this big-haired, overly made-up woman—in her opinion, a black Barbie doll.

  “Looks great, right?” Derrick and Daisy said almost simultaneously.

  “Uh ...” Kenya was at a loss for words, and before she could voice her concerns, they were shuffling her out of her robe and sliding the skintight dress over her head. It was clear that in Chynna’s world she couldn’t have qualms about showing her naked body as she was surrounded by people all the time.

  Her assistant spun her around to face the mirror, and Kenya saw that she’d done it. She’d finally become Chynna.

  Kenya calmed her nerves later that evening as several of her bodyguards helped her into the oversized cake that she was to pop out of at the Beverly Wilshire hotel.

  “When you hear the ‘Happy Birthday’ music, that’s your cue to jump out, got it?” Deacon asked. Kenya had never seen him this excited at his and Fiona’s handiwork.

  Kenya nodded as she slinked inside the cake, then the guards covered her up with the cake top. She felt the cake being moved toward the ballroom where Lucas’s party was already underway. She could hear the loud music and voices, but what struck her the most funny was that she’d hoped while she was living her twin’s life that everyone would stop putting Chynna into a box. She’d hoped to show them her twin was more complex, but here she was being placed in a cake box to do their bidding.

  Kenya knew in the long run that getting the paparazzi’s focus off Blake and Chynna meant her sister could return to her life, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  Kenya heard the cue of the birthday music and instantly popped out of the cake. A spotlight shone on her with her big hair and made-up face as they wheeled her toward Lucas, who was sitting in a booth and watching in amazement as she seductively sang “Happy Birthday” to him. Her bodyguards surfaced to gingerly lift her out of the cake so she could slink her way toward Lucas and sit on his lap. Lucas played the devoted boyfriend and stared back at her as if he were enraptured by some mermaid singing in the ocean.

  Kenya wasn’t oblivious to the shocked stares of several party guests who had no idea that the two of them were an item. When she was finished with the song, she bent her head and gave the crowd something to cheer about. She swept her glossed lips across Lucas’s. He lived up to his end of the bargain by sweeping his arms around her middle and kissing her firmly back. It was a short, but a somehow excruciatingly long kiss that made Kenya’s toes curl in her stilettos.

  When they pulled apart, Lucas’s guests cheered in delight. “Guess it worked,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Guess so,” she said for his ears only.

  Soon Lucas’s small table was besieged by several members of the press and partygoers. “Lucas, how long have you and Chynna been dating? Was this before or after Blake? Does Blake know that you and Chynna are seeing each other?”

  “No comment.” Lucas fanned the flames by not answering their pointed questions. “Let’s dance.” He helped Kenya to her feet then whisked her past the throng of onlookers toward the dance floor.

  “You know, this is overkill,” Kenya said softly as one of his hands grasped hers and the other was placed on the small of her back. “I think they all got we’re an item.”

  Lucas pulled her firmly to himself and closed the distance between them. “We need to convince them we’re legit so your movie gets back on track.”

  “I’ve already handled that,” Kenya said as he smoothly danced her across the floor. She wasn’t surprised that he was a good dancer. Lucas Kingston looked like the type of man who knew how to do everything well and not just dancing.

  “Oh, yeah?” Lucas asked peering down at her. “And how’d you do that?”

  Kenya heard the inflection in his voice and looked up at him. She ignored the butterflies that began to somersault in her belly and play havoc with her equilibrium. “I convinced Carter I had what it took to play Yvette.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Well, from what I’d heard, you’d been struggling during rehearsals.”

  “I turned it around.”

  Lucas smiled, and Kenya noticed his straight, white teeth. They were too perfect. He had to have had some dental work done. She’d paid for hers thanks to her agent who’d insisted actors had to look great onscreen.

  “Since you’ve been back, Chynna, you continue to both surprise and amaze me,” Lucas admitted.

  “I woul
d hope that’s a good thing.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Lucas replied.

  Lucas watched Chynna from across the room as she laughed and talked with several of his guests. The old Chynna he knew. She was gorgeous and sexy for sure, but she’d always been spoiled, impulsive and just a little bit needy. Since she’d returned from her two-week sabbatical at Canyon Ranch, she’d turned over a new leaf. She was just as drop-dead sexy as ever, but now, she was more vocal, deliberate and self-assured than she’d ever been. Who is the real Chynna? The dichotomy unnerved and perplexed him.

  His nether regions had been on fire when he’d seen her pop out of that cake in that sexy lace dress. It seemed to have been poured onto her body and showed every generous curve, and he’d like nothing better than to run his fingers down each and every one. But since the song and the dance, they hadn’t had one minute alone together. You’d think since they were supposed to be a couple that they’d be joined at the hip at the party, but everyone wanted to talk to her or be seen with her. He didn’t see how she could stand all the incessant chatter, but she took photos and signed autographs with a smile because like it or not, Chynna was a seasoned professional.

  Eli came up to him as he studied her. “She’s something, isn’t she?” he asked. “A real force that girl is. I told you when I signed her she’d be a star.”

  “And you’re usually on the mark,” Lucas replied.

  “Usually,” Eli said, looking at him strangely. “But nothing could have prepared me for the shock of seeing you and Chynna kissing.”

  “Oh, that,” Lucas chuckled.

  “Don’t oh, that, my man,” Eli replied. “Since when do you hold out on me about a woman, especially a client? I’ve never known you to mix business with pleasure, so what gives?”

  Lucas shrugged. “She finally wore me down.”

  “Hmmpph.”

  “You know she’s had a thing for me for a while.”

 

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