by Megyn Ward
She spins out from under my arm and flounces toward the restaurant, the cameraman backing up and racing behind the sofa where Diana and her soft frat boy still watch with amazed expressions. Liesa raises her nose in superiority. “They’d better not. You promised me they would make them with a touch of garlic, just the way I like them.”
She places her cool palms on my cheeks and pulls me close for a soft, long kiss, and I let her.
I have no choice but to close my eyes and pretend I enjoy it. She cuddles into me, her voice like a soft coo. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Across America, countless tween girls will sigh when that airs. I play up to Liesa, my stomach tied in knots, just hoping this little PDA will take the attention away from Kylie. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” It sits in my stomach like sour milk but I’ve learned not to gag.
Liesa takes my arm and leans close. “I’m starving. Let’s go get those scallops.”
I fight every urge in my body that makes me want to turn around and rush back to Kylie, because I can’t. I can’t do that. I’ve made a deal with Jonas Knightly, the devil himself, so he’ll leave Kylie alone.
Three
Kylie
I leave Trevor From Boston sprawled half on and half off the rattan sofa in the lobby. Fighting tears, I brush off Diana’s calls after me and rush to the bathroom just outside the restaurant entrance. Liesa’s entourage has already retreated inside the tiki-themed facility, the bright lights of the camera highlighting Zach pulling a chair out for Liesa.
I don’t care about the dark circles under his eyes.
Then why did you notice?
I slip into a stall and bang the door closed. The tiny space leaves me nowhere to go but to sit on the stool. I lean my arms on my knees and bury my face in my palms. Generally, I’m good at controlling my feelings. But he blindsided me. I wasn’t prepared to see them together, for their touch, their kiss.
The sight of Zach, all deep blue eyes and dimples, kissing Liesa, a wealthy celebrity princess shredded my guts like a serrated knife. But mostly, I’m mad. Filled with rage at myself for caring about two such shallow, greedy, despicable people who have no problem with fucking people over.
At least one of them is a master at fucking.
At fucking me.
I’d let him do that to me again if he asked.
Why does it bother me? They deserve to be together. They’re both self-centered and cruel. They’d manipulated and used me to save their income stream and then left me discarded. I hate them both.
So why do I long to feel Zach’s arms pulling me close, as he’d held Liesa? Why do I have an urge to call Liesa and tell her about the seahorse I found in the same spot she’d sighted it? Why do I feel so alone?
I straighten on the stool. Why am I hiding? I’ve done nothing wrong. Not like them, conspiring for Zach to lead me on so they could bring in the camera at the climax (literally). It hit me after a few days of wallowing in a pit of guilt and misery. This entire thing, from start to finish, had been an act. The way Liesa had been so friendly to me on the elevator the day I met her. The way all three of us ran into each other at Knightly’s office building. The way he made me come and then smooth-talked me into taking them both diving.
That’s when I stopped feeling guilty and started feeling betrayed.
Zach acted like he had feelings for me. Liesa acted like my friend. They’d both betrayed me and here I am, slinking off to the bathroom.
This is stupid and weak and not worthy of how Mom raised me. I don’t need Zach or Liesa. I’m not alone. My roommates, Diana and Blake are my family and we care about each other.
Sure, Diana has issues with guys and often puts them before me, but if I really need her, she’ll be there. I understand her desperation, though I wish she’d learn she doesn’t need some guy to provide for her.
And Blake, I’d almost wrecked our friendship by doing the very thing I accused Diana of. I put Zach ahead of Blake and I’d hurt him deeply. He’d even moved out for a while. That thought was like a spike to my heart. When Blake had moved out of our little hovel in the middle of the island, he’d moved into Liesa’s luxury home on one of the exclusive canals. They remained friends, even after he’d been kicked out by director and cameras, and settled back with us.
It’s Mom I miss. When she died over a year ago, she took my anchor, my sense of belonging. My whole life, it’d been Mom and me. We’d laughed and cried together, lived in tiny apartments with one bedroom barely big enough for a double bed. Finally, she’d scored a job as a sorority mother at Harebridge College, a prestigious institution for the well-heeled and intelligent.
Mom encouraged me to work hard, graduate from high school early and earn my undergrad accounting degree while I could get the perk of discounted tuition. We’d been happy there.
Until she got cancer and faded before my eyes. I know if we’d have had access to better medical care, if we’d been able to afford experimental treatments our insurance wouldn’t allow, Mom would have made it.
I blame Jonas Knightly for taking Mom from me. The father I never knew. The man who never coughed up a dime for my mother or me. Mom didn’t tell me about him, but I discovered his existence when I cleaned out her things. That’s why I came to the Caymans.
To get what Mom never had. To make Jonas Knightly pay.
With renewed determination, I stand, straighten my dress, and step out of the stall just as the outside door opens and spits a demon into the bathroom.
Don’t show weakness.
Liesa braces an arm against the door as if holding out the world. Her famous face—the rigid lines, tight lips, blazing eyes—seems to melt. It all softens and she looks like the girl I’d seen overcome her fear of water and learn to dive. She reminds me of her giggles as Blake taught her to mince garlic, of her carelessly striking yoga poses on our grass while she told me how she felt we were connected somehow, maybe meeting in another life.
That’s when the needle skips across the record and shrieks in my head. That’s the night she’d asked me how to seduce Zach because she wanted him to be the guy who took her virginity. And I, lulled by her great acting, believing she was sincere, had fallen for it all.
I ignore her and slap the faucet, running my hands under the water.
She keeps blocking the door. “God, Kylie. I’m so sorry.”
Guard your heart.
I keep my head down, not wanting to catch her eye in the mirror.
She crosses the bathroom to stand next to me and leans into my line of vision. “I hated doing that.”
“But you did it, anyway.” I shut off the water and reach for the stack of paper towels on the counter.
She stills my hand on the stack. “It’s TV. I told you. It’s my job.”
Don’t fall for the sincerity in her voice. She’s a pro.
“Right, I almost forgot. It’s your job to make people feel like shit on the bottom of your shoe.” I pull my hand away. “You should be proud. You’re good at it.”
“Well, I had to do something.” Her heels click on the tile floor. “You and Zach were staring at each other and if she’d caught it, Jeri would’ve manufactured something big. At least this way, I can control the narrative.”
“Oh, I get it now.” I have the overwhelming urge to shove her to see if she’ll topple from her stilettos. “Well, thanks for that.”
She folds her arms and studies me. “I did it for you, sure, but mostly for Zach.”
That doesn’t hurt at all.
Not much.
It burns.
As if Zach deserves any consideration at all. “How is insulting me good for Zach?”
She shakes her head. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Oh, I get a lot. I got fired from my dive master job because of Zach. I got treated like poor trash. I got close to losing one of my best friends. “I don’t need to get anything else from you and Zach.”
The door to the bathro
om pushes open and Liesa lunges for it. She slams it shut. “Occupied.”
The person on the other side shoves back and Liesa’s slick soles scoot back a few feet before she gains traction and throws her body against the door. “I said go away. Pee in the pool.”
Confidence I’ll never feel.
I try not to laugh. Only Liesa Temple could get away with that. She spins around and leans against the door. “It’s the show. Okay? If I can make enough in the next season or two, maybe Mother can pay off her debts and I can retire.”
I snort.
“And then, I swear, I’m going to shave my head and live totally under the radar. Never look at another camera as long as I live.”
I don’t believe her.
Yes, you do.
Guard your heart.
I advance on her. “I don’t believe anything you say. But, I really don’t give a shit what you do.”
Her face freezes and suddenly her eyes flood. “Damn it, Kylie. You’re being so stubborn. Would you just listen to me?”
I put a hand on her shoulder and try to move her away from the door.
She swipes at the two tears that dare to sneak from her eyes. “Now I’m going to have to do my makeup all over again or Jeri will figure out I’ve been crying and then we’re all screwed.”
“No. You’re screwed. This shitshow has nothing to do with me.” For a bitch in heels, she holds steady as a doorstop. “Get out of my way.”
She doesn’t budge. “Not until you listen to me.”
We have a thirty-second stand-off, staring into each other eyes. I back off. “Fine.”
She settles herself and begins. “I didn’t know the cameras were on the island. It was supposed to be a vacation for me.”
“Uh-huh.” I shut my eyes remembering the bright lights suddenly shining around Zach and me.
Stop thinking about fucking Zach.
“And you’re the one who told me to go for Zach.”
Yep. I remember telling her to make herself available and Zach would gladly be the one to accept her V-card. I’d convinced myself Zach and I could never be together because we came from two different worlds. But then, there was that moment in the shower. That feeling of falling, with no power to stop myself. To stop Zach from falling with me.
My face burns with the vision, and my body, the ultimate betrayer, tingles and surges at the memory of Zach touching me. I try to hold back the image of the dim light, the warm water trickling onto my back, Zach’s hands on my breasts, his fingers gently pinching my tight nipples. I hate remembering how hard he felt entering me, how he seemed to fill every part of me. The way we moved together, as if we’d been made for that one purpose.
Only you, Kylie.
Only you.
“That’s right,” I say, my voice scratchy and dry. “I’m glad you listened.”
She watches me and I tell myself she can’t know what I’m thinking. “You told me to go for it, and then you fucked him. Right in front of me.”
“It wasn’t in front of you.” And it wasn’t just fucking. “Not that it matters. I played into your hands, didn’t it? When the camera came on, you got what you were after and your ratings shot way up.”
“I told you.” She closes her eyes. “I didn’t know the camera was there.”
She didn’t?
Don’t fall for it, again.
“Yeah, I know. And I still don’t believe you.”
A spark shoots into her eyes. “You’re so ungrateful.”
That stops me. “What?”
She takes a step to get in my face, seems to remember the unguarded door and flops back against it. “I could have drug you through all kinds of shit if I’d told Jonas your name. He’d have had you on the show and your life would be hell.”
I laugh. “A hell of wealth? If I got paid a fraction of what you’re making, how bad could it be? So, you know, don’t feel like you need to do me any favors.”
“I know you don’t believe me, but all of this.” She waves her hands as if the world is crowding in on her. “Is not what you want.”
“Zach doesn’t look all that miserable.” Even saying his name pierces a hole in me.
She looks at the ground for a moment. “Zach knew what he was getting into. He has his reasons for what he’s doing.” She finds my face. “Zach and I are alike. We really understand each other.”
A world of wealth and privilege where I don’t belong.
I taste bitter jealousy. “Yeah, I can see that.”
She lets out a breath. “We come from the same world. It’s a place you’ll never know.”
She’s wrong. I intend to know their world. As soon as I get proof that Jonas Knightly is my father, I’m going to be right in the fucking middle of it. “Okay. You didn’t set me up for your TV drama. You saved me from ruin. Is that all? Can I go now?”
Her face softens. “There’s something else.”
What more can it be? That she and Zach are going to get married and have twins?
She swallows and closes her eyes again. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I know some stuff. Things that are beyond explaining. Like a sixth sense.”
“Sure. Madam Liesa.”
She slaps the door with her open palm. “I’m serious. And what I know is that you and I are connected some way. We’re like, soulmates or something.”
I roll my eyes. “I can see why you’d want to be connected to me, with my fortune and wit, my circle of friends, my exciting life. But why the hell would I want to be your spiritual buddy? Far as I can tell, you don’t have a soul.”
She smiles at that. “Okay. Take your time. We’re destined to be friends. That’s something you can’t hide from.”
She whirls around and puts her hand on the door handle. “My advice to you is to hang out here another five minutes so Jeri doesn’t see you coming out and get any stupid ideas.”
Four
Zach
The maître d' seats us. I order the most expensive Chablis, knowing it’s what Liesa would want. She has expensive tastes, and as long as the show pays, she insists on indulgence. I hate Chablis. Even the best are too sweet. But I learned to go with Liesa’s flow.
She sips and we talk about a party we’ve been invited to and whether we want to go. Jeri, the director, thinks it would be good to go. Earlier, she tried to convince Liesa to find some guy to flirt with so we could argue about it later. I’d hated the idea but after seeing Kylie in the lobby, I’m trying to convince Liesa we ought to go, after all. Liesa seems distracted and sad under her usual big TV persona. Sometimes even she needs time away from the drama. I feel sorry for the way she is pushed and prodded. Most of her life is an acting job and I wonder when and if she ever gets to be authentic.
Liesa seems to be going through the motions as far as the show is concerned. She hasn’t said anything to me, but I know she hates the dog and pony routines Jeri insists on.
Liesa’s mother, Simone, was her usual sparring partner. Now, the focus is on us. We’d had episodes of getting together. Now we need a new direction, even if that means bickering.
Simone has been largely written out this season. She is having liposuction and a facelift in some European spa and doesn’t want the viewing public in on it. So the script calls for her mother sequestering herself at a spiritual retreat in Bali. As far as the TV audience and media knows, she’s doing the whole Eat, Pray, Love thing without the eating and loving. We know she’s basically praying she’ll stay young and beautiful and isn’t afraid to throw a fortune at the effort.
Liesa pecks my cheek, something I hate as much as Niles hates Democrats. “I’ve got to go to the little girls’ room.”
Kylie doesn’t peck.
She’d never say “little girls’ room.”
Stop comparing everyone and everything to Kylie.
I might feel bad for Liesa having to create all the angst and drama every week. But staged or not, dealing with her fits and big emotions, not to mention dodging Jeri’s ever mo
re ridiculous plot lines, is exhausting for me, and I’m only a supporting actor. Although, if Jeri or Jonas heard me say actor, they’d drag me over hot coals. In reality TV, there were no actors, only people living real lives.
Liesa can’t want out of this circus any more than I do. But we’re both being held hostage and we need to work together.
To save Kylie.
As much as the memory of that shower and the moments I spent with Kylie never leave me, I hate remembering what happened after. Why I have to stay away from her. That only a few months ago I was sitting in Knightly’s office when it all came crashing down...
I sit in a padded chair opposite Jonas, across the expanse of his Cherrywood desk. He drums his fingers on the polished surface and grins at me. Although he isn’t a tall man, he has an athletic build, a friendly face, and a manner that brings everyone onto his team. Everyone who doesn’t hate him as much as I do. “You scored big on that one, amiright?”
Shit. I’d thought about sex as a game so many times, racking up points and winning. But Kylie is different. I want to punch Jonas for being so crude. I clutch the arms of my chair and don’t say anything.
Jonas jumps up and races to the bar along one wall of his plush office. “As I recall, you’re a G&T man.”
Ice clinks in crystal and a quoosh sounds as he opens a bottle of tonic. I stare out the floor to ceiling window behind Jonas’s chair. Palm trees wave in the breeze and the ocean stretches beyond the tony condos, widening into endless blue until it blends with the sky.
Another day in paradise.
All I can think about is Kylie and the terrible things I’d said about her.
Here and willing.
Like being with her wasn’t the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.
Like it was about as life-changing as catching a bus.
I’ll never forgive myself for hurting her like that. At the time, I’d only been trying to keep Liesa from coming undone. When the camera popped up, my first thought was to protect Kylie. Now I’d created so much damage to Kylie it might never be repaired.
