All We Were (Ex-Factor Duet Book 1)

by Elisabeth Grace

  “I’ll be here.” We’re back at the studio tomorrow to finish shooting the scene we started today.

  “Okay then…” She unlocks her car and opens the door then tosses her bag across so that it lands on the passenger seat. “I didn’t mean to upset you with what I said about Lilah.”

  I push my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “It’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to.”

  Her lips tip down at the corners.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, walking backward with a wave.

  At the moment, people’s perceptions of Lilah are the least of my problems. I have one point seven million dollars and a contract to get together.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lilah

  I stare at Jimmy while he sleeps. He looks so peaceful and relaxed. Meanwhile, my blood is on fire and adrenaline courses through my veins. After I arrived at my friends’, I’d told them about my meeting with the House of Carlisle, and we celebrated the way only models can—with buckets full of champagne at the trendiest LA club and a nose full of cocaine.

  The Uber back to Malibu cost me a fortune, but I wasn’t up for crashing at someone’s place tonight. I need to know what Jimmy meant when he said his mom called him.

  Still, even in my state, I feel a small amount of remorse for having to disturb his peaceful sleep.

  I slide under the covers with him and grip his strong shoulder, nudging him. “Jimmy, wake up.” He doesn’t twitch a muscle, so I do it again, this time with more force. “Jimmy, c’mon, wake up.”

  He groans and rolls toward me, his eyes slowly opening.

  “We need to talk,” I say, sliding up the bed to rest my back along his headboard.

  “Are you okay?” He pulls himself up and runs a hand through his dark hair, yawning.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I run my hand down his arm, entwining my hand in his. “Why did your mom call?”

  He blinks a few times. I’ve caught him off guard.

  “What time is it?” he asks, glancing at the clock on his nightstand.

  My gaze falls on it as well.

  “Two thirty in the morning? Seriously, can’t this wait until the morning?”

  “You know it can’t. You didn’t return any of my texts today.” I tighten my grip.

  “I was busy on set.” He yawns again.

  “Just tell me why your mom called.”

  He’s stalling, which is a horrible sign. He’s hiding something, I know it.

  “Are you fucked up right now?” he asks, swinging his legs around so his feet reach the floor at the side of his bed, disengaging from my hand.

  “Just answer the damn question!” I say with more force.

  Jimmy walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was drunk.”

  “You can’t do that. You can’t expect me to act like you didn’t say it.” I stare him in the eyes, willing him to tell me and not leave me in the dark.

  He blows out a breath and drops his hands from my shoulders. “Maybe we should talk about this when you haven’t been railing coke all night.” He brushes by me and out into the hall toward the kitchen.

  I have no argument, because if he’s clued into my earlier activities tonight, there’s no point in lying.

  “Stop changing the subject. What’s going on?” I stomp down the hallway, my sympathy over what the call did to him turns to anger over him treating me like a porcelain doll.

  By the time I reach the kitchen, he’s got a glass of water in his hand. I take the glass to kick away his distraction technique, but it slips from my fingers right before I can set it on the counter. The glass smashes on the hardwood, shattering into pieces and water puddles.

  “For fuck’s sake, Lilah!” Jimmy screams.

  It’s the first time he’s yelled at me in a long time. Jimmy doesn’t lose his patience with me. He’s the most patient person I know, which means whatever is going on with his mom is bad.

  Tears form in my eyes staring at the broken glass. I turn to head to the laundry room to get a broom to clean up the mess, but his hand wraps around my upper arm, stopping me.

  “Be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

  I nod and slowly step backward, investigating the area I walk to make sure I don’t step on any jagged glass. Once I’ve made it into the safe zone, I meet Jimmy’s gaze.

  He still stands near the island.

  “Go have a shower and clean yourself up. I’m gonna clean this up, then we’ll talk.” The resigned tone in his voice says he’s accepted that he’ll have to share with me whatever is going on.

  I nod slowly, my lips pressed together. I head down the hall to my room, not ready to hear what Jimmy has to say but knowing I have to.

  I dry off and put on my grey cotton sleep shorts and tank top and exit the bathroom to find Jimmy sitting in the chair in the corner of my room, staring straight ahead. I sit on the edge of the bed across from him, waiting for him to tell me.

  His chin tips up and his sorrow-filled eyes meet mine. He doesn’t want to tell me, and I fear I’m hurting him by forcing him to do so, but he cannot handle this news on his own. I don’t break eye contact because I want to show him I’m strong enough. Strong enough to help him through this. God knows he’s helped me through enough shit.

  “My mom has been trying to track me down through Keane. He called to let me know, thinking it was a hoax. He said she’d called a bunch of times and demanded to speak to me because she was my mom.”

  My hand flies to my mouth. “What did Keane say?”

  Jimmy’s told every interviewer that his mom died, and no one has ever called that into question.

  “I haven’t filled him in on everything yet, but I will.” His jaw clenches. “Anyway, long story short, she wants money.”

  Hate fills my chest and burns like an open sore. “I hope you told her to go fuck herself.”

  “I did at first.” His voice is ominous, and it sends a chill down my spine.

  “What changed?” I ask slowly.

  “When she told me she’d gone back to the mountain and that people are talking, filling her in about what went down after she left.” He stares into my eyes so I understand what he’s talking about.

  Of course I know what he’s talking about. I might be a druggie, but I don’t have amnesia.

  I suck in a quick breath. “She doesn’t know…”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But I don’t want that to change, so I’m going to pay her.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment, hating that he has to do this while knowing he has no choice. It must kill him to give money to the woman who abandoned him. A woman who did nothing to help him achieve his found success.

  “How much?” I whisper.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He stands from the chair. “So there. Now you know.”

  I stare at the floor, unsure of what I can say. Another predicament I’ve put Jimmy in. If he hadn’t… if I hadn’t… he could have told her to fuck off.

  I always liked Darla—until she left her son. With an abuser who beat him more often after she left. She wasn’t my mother, but she was the only example I had of any kind of mother growing up. Sadly, I’d looked up to her.

  “How can you be sure she doesn’t know?” I ask.

  “Just the feeling I got.”

  I bite my bottom lip and draw in short puffs of air.

  Jimmy crouches in front of me with a hand on my thigh. “Lilah, it’s going to be fine. We have nothing to worry about. I’m going to pay her, and she’ll go away. End of story.”

  I want to believe him. I really do. But so often in my life, things don’t go the way they should.

  “Okay,” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

  He dips his head, not accepting my dismissal. “I mean it. Don’t let this derail you. We both have good things happening for us right now. The past is far behind us.”

  My eyes snap to his gaze, and I nod to appease him.
/>   “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He leans forward, circling his arms around my stomach, his head falling into my lap.

  I smooth my hand through his hair. The poor boy who freed himself from a life of poverty and abuse will never stop hurting.

  He draws back and stares into my eyes. “Come sleep with me?”

  I slide back onto the bed, pulling the covers down as an invitation.

  A gentle, loving smile crosses his lips and he climbs in under my blankets. I hold him to me, his hands lazily running up and down my back, comforting me. I kiss his sweaty forehead and run my fingers through his hair. Eventually Jimmy’s breaths slow and his hands stop running along my skin.

  I shut my eyes, but visions of my life on that mountain roll like a film reel through my brain with no stop in sight.

  I suck in deliberate breaths until sleep overcomes me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jimmy

  “And cut,” Scott says. “That was great, you two.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Why don’t you guys take a quick break while we set up our next shot?” he says.

  “Perfect. I need to use the facilities,” Adelaide says.

  We smile at each other and she heads off, which is perfect for me.

  I left Keane in my trailer when I was called to set early and I’m hoping he’s still there so we can finish our discussion. I jog off the soundstage and step out into the bright California sunshine. I race up my trailer’s steps and look inside to see Keane is right where I left him. Sitting on the leather couch, typing something into his phone. The man probably set up his office while I was away.

  “Good, you’re still here,” I say, pulling a water from the fridge. “Want one?”

  He shakes his head. “Of course I’m still here. It’s not every day you call me down to set, insisting that we talk right away.”

  “True enough.” I chug some of the water before catching the dribbles on my chin with my sleeve.

  “What’s happened? You knock up the director’s daughter? Piss off Bernie Butler?” he asks, sliding his phone into his interior suit pocket.

  “Not exactly.”

  His forehead creases. “What is it then?”

  I bite the bullet because Keane is my guard. He’ll be able to navigate us through the shitstorm of my life with a clear head. “How much do you know about my childhood?”

  He shrugs. “Only what you’ve told me, which is next to nothing.” Keane raises a brow.

  “True enough.”

  I pause, unsure how much I should reveal. I trust Keane implicitly, but the last thing I want are looks of pity. Besides, it’s not just me giving this confession. By proxy, it’s Lilah too.

  I explain my mother leaving and her reason for doing so. I leave out the dirt-poor living on a mountainside part of my history and I mention none of what Lilah had to deal with. Instead I focus on why my mom has been trying to contact me.

  “Shit, man. That’s harsh.” He leans forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees.

  “Agreed. But I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me. I need something from you.”

  “Say the word.”

  “I need a good lawyer who can draft an agreement that will force my mom to keep her trap shut if I give her what she wants. Then I want an investigator, someone who can keep their mouth shut too, to look into what she’s been up to since she left.” I set the bottle on the kitchen counter and lean back against it with my arms crossed.

  “You sure you want to pay her? People don’t usually go away after the first payment.” He pulls out his phone because Keane works fast. A quality I hired him for.

  “You let me worry about that. I’m going to make it worth her while.” I push off the counter. “I had better get back to set.”

  Keane rises from the couch. “I’ll take care of both for you.”

  I clap him on the shoulder. “This is why we work well together. You’re a smart guy.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you when I have something.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I head back down the trailer steps and out into the sunshine. Now all I have to do is get in touch with the bank and sell off some of my investments to get the cash for the payment.

  Hopefully after she has her money, my mother will be the same way she was before—a distant memory.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lilah

  A couple of days pass without me seeing Jimmy. He’s working constantly, but I think he’s avoiding me too. Not that I care, with me drowning my anxiety and memories with alcohol and pills anyway. Yesterday I woke up on the couch at nine at night and couldn’t recall how long I’d been there.

  Darla’s reappearance into Jimmy’s life set off a string of reactions in me—panic, fear, self-loathing, and guilt. I trust that Jimmy will handle the situation, but a small part of me worries she won’t go away.

  My phone rings and I pick it up off the table, my vodka soda almost knocking over in the process. My phone fumbles in my hand. “Hello.”

  “It’s Mina. Have I got news for you!”

  Through my haze, I register that she’s excited. “What’s up?” I attempt not to slur, but I’m not sure I pull it off.

  Shit. I’m more fucked up than I thought.

  “The House of Carlisle called, and you got the job. You’re their new rep for next year!”

  “Really?” I sit up, my head circling until I zero in on the television to set myself straight.

  “Believe it. They said they liked everything you had to say and want to be a part of launching you into the next phase of your career.”

  Her excitement should be intoxicating, and I’m excited, but that self-loathing side of me knocks down the happiness. Guilt arrives to our party right after. I owe Jimmy—again. I couldn’t have done it without him prepping me.

  “That’s great.”

  “Listen, I can tell you’re not clearheaded right now. You need to cut that shit out. You’re representing the House of Carlisle now, and they won’t put up with your antics.”

  “I got it, Mina. Jeez, relax.” She’s such a dictator. This is money in her pocket too.

  “Lilah, this is a turning point for you if you let it. It’s an amazing opportunity.”

  I stick my tongue out at the phone and raise my hand as if it’s talking nonstop. “I said I got it.”

  She blows out a long-annoyed breath. “Well, make sure you do. Be at my office at nine a.m. the day after tomorrow to sign the papers.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Smartass,” she mutters, and the line dies.

  I toss my phone on the couch and lie down, a slow smile crossing my lips.

  I did it. I’ll be representing the new line of one of the fashion world’s most prestigious houses. Tears spring to my eyes and my hands cover my mouth in disbelief. Is this how Jimmy felt when they asked him to be The Regulator?

  I pick my phone up off the coffee table and click on Jimmy’s name. He’s the only one who will be as excited as me.

  I hit the green circle and wait while it rings.

  “Hey,” his smooth timbre answers.

  “You’re not going to believe this. House of Carlisle chose me for their campaign!”

  “Really? That’s amazing! I told you you could do it.” His smile comes through his words and spurs a happy dance inside me because, for once, I’m the one to bring him happiness.

  “Thanks. You’re always my biggest cheerleader.”

  “We should celebrate,” he says.

  Usually he’s the one telling me to stop celebrating.

  “What do you have in mind?” I ask.

  “Why don’t we head to Santa Monica Pier tonight after I’m done on set? It’ll be like old times, back to where we started?”

  I smile. It’s our spot and I love that he suggested we go there. “I like it.”

  “Okay, I’ll send a car for you and meet you there. That
way you can ride back to the house with me.”

  “Perfect. What time should I be ready?” I ask.

  “I’ll text you about an hour before.”

  “’K, see you then.”

  I hang up with a sense of hopefulness brimming with possibility. Good things are happening. Maybe I need to learn to accept them. On my way to my room, I repeat my mantra—don’t fuck it up.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jimmy

  “See you tomorrow,” Adelaide says as we head to our cars in the studio parking lot.

  “Yeah, sure thing.” I pull my keys from my pocket.

  “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, stopping and hiking her purse farther up on her shoulder.

  “I’m fine. Just have some things on my mind, that’s all.”

  Namely my mom. The private investigator did some digging and found out that she bounced around a lot after she left my dad and me. Seemed to move from one man to the next and they all supported her. No record of any drug or alcohol abuse and no arrests. Meaning, she’s not an addict or a criminal, just an opportunist.

  Adelaide frowns. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah. It’ll work itself out.”

  “Okay then, have a good night.”

  “You too.” I walk over to my car, using the remote to unlock it.

  Once I’m seated inside, I stare at my phone in my hand, attempting to rein in my temper over the fact that I have to pay off my own mother. I can’t let her know how desperate I am for her to go away, otherwise she’ll dig up more dirt and come back for more. I’m giving her enough to set her up for the rest of her life if she’s not stupid with the money.

  I press her number and listen to it ring through my car’s Bluetooth.

  “Hello?” she says on the second ring.

  “Hey.”

  “Son, how are you doing?”

  I cringe at her referring me to as her son. “I have the money for you.”