* * *
The nice thing about Kari having surgery when she was supposed to be working was that Maren felt compelled to spend nearly every day of the next two weeks with her, "helping her concentrate on her music.” It must not have been an easy task. Whenever she came back at night, it took her a while to unclamp her jaws. Even when she was home, she was always busy talking to Kari’s agent, publicist, bodyguard, or choreographer. If I walked by Maren's office, I heard snippets about photo shoots, interviews, or concert paraphernalia. Since I didn’t have any looming road trips, she hardly paid any attention to me.
Also, because Kari still had bruising and swelling from her nose job, she stayed out of the public eye, which meant I didn’t have to worry about inadvertently creating multiple Kari sightings.
On most days after I finished my homework, workout, and dancing lessons, I'd tell Maren I was going shopping. Then I'd have Bao-Zhi drop me off at Rodeo Drive, and Grant would pick me up so we could do something together. Bao-Zhi was making a killing in tips.
A few times I took Nikolay along and actually went shopping. I bought some Prada jeans and designer tops. I had to in order for Maren not to get suspicious. Besides, they fit me perfectly, and a girl has to look her best for someone like Grant Delray.
But most of my shopping time actually consisted of eating at ultra-private restaurants with Grant or hanging out at his house in Malibu. Like Kari, he had a fence and a gate around his house to keep the press at a distance. So we could swim at his pool or even play basketball in his driveway. He always let me cheat at basketball, and I usually still lost. I didn't mind. For me, the point of the game was to watch his biceps in action.
Once we put on hats and sunglasses and went hiking in Topanga Canyon. It felt dangerous and just a little bit wicked to be out in the open where a passing hiker might recognize us. Things I wouldn't have thought twice about in West Virginia had suddenly become risky.
I made excuses to keep him away from Kari’s place. "The paparazzi have been watching my house like crazy," I told him.
I knew I couldn't make this last. Every time we were together, I wanted to tell him the truth but was afraid it would be over between us as soon as he found out who I really was.
Kissing him was addictive. I had never fallen for a guy so quickly or so deeply. The term "falling in love” made perfect sense now. It did feel like free-falling—fast and thrilling, but leaving nothing to hang on to, no way to stabilize myself. Everything was beyond my control.
I couldn't even persuade myself to be logical and say, Hey, maybe there’s another guy out there somewhere I’d like even better. This was Grant Delray. Handsome, talented, rich—hundreds of thousands of girls worshiped him, and they didn’t even know the rest—that he was also down-to-earth and smart and could make people laugh anytime he wanted.
Besides, everything would change in a few weeks when I met my father. I would wait to see what happened there, then decide how to break the news to Grant.
My Double Life Page 24
