Ten
Lila
I knew something was wrong the moment I walked through the door. My sister whirled around in the kitchen, and her eyes went wide with warning.
“Tess? What’s going on—”
“Delilah.” My father’s voice cut through the living room—cold, sharp, and filled with disdain.
My stomach sank as I looked to Tess with an accusatory glare. You told him.
She didn’t try to deny it. Instead, she pressed her lips together and looked down at her phone, which sat on the kitchen counter.
“Daddy, I can explain.” I took a step toward the counter and stopped. I flashed Tess an expectant look, but she shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at her. How was I supposed to explain when I didn’t even know how much she’d told him?
How much did he know?
“Tell me,” he said in a voice that was chillingly calm. “Do you not know what Brandon looks like? I could have sworn you knew what he looked like, but then how to explain why you were kissing the wrong boy?”
My mouth went dry with panic. Even when he wasn’t in the same room, I could feel his wrath. “Daddy, I can make this right.”
“I know you will, Princess.” There was nothing reassuring about that phrase, not when it was said as a threat. I know you will, Princess… or else.
I didn’t want to think about the or else. I took a step toward the counter. “I just spoke to Brandon,” I said.
“I assume you apologized for being a little slut and making out with his best friend.” His words, spoken so evenly, so without feeling—they were a slap in the face.
My swift inhale was audible. “I can explain.”
“No need,” he continued. “I just got an earful from your sister. All sorts of explanations and rationalizations. She seems convinced that I should give you a second chance.”
I looked over at Tess, but she didn’t look up to meet my eyes. Fine. It wasn’t like I was grateful anyway. If it wasn’t for her, Daddy wouldn’t know how much I’d messed up.
“I can make this right,” I said.
“You’d better, Princess.” He sighed loudly, and I could practically see him leaning back in his office chair as he considered his next move. “Delilah, do you know how many empty-headed, pretty bimbos audition for this studio every day?”
I saw Tess lift her head, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to look over at her. I didn’t want to see her pity.
Heat rushed to my neck, my cheeks. But I swallowed down the tears that came stupidly and reflexively in the face of his barely veiled insults.
“I asked you a question,” he barked.
“No, Daddy.” I was proud of how clearly I’d spoken despite the choking sensation as I waited for him to continue.
“There are countless girls like you in this industry, Delilah. This city is overflowing with women who are more attractive than you, skinnier than you, and God knows nearly all of them have more brains.”
I refused to cry as I stared at the phone. This wasn’t the first time I’d been on the receiving end of a lecture like this one. The key was to focus on anything but the words. Like the way the phone reflected against the shiny countertop, or the way Tess shifted with discomfort beside me.
I swear, if she so much as touched me right now, I’d slap her.
“No one wants to see some spoiled brat on the TV screen, Princess…”
His words kept coming, but I’d found the place where they couldn’t hurt me.
“Without Brandon, you’re of no use to me and have no place on the show. I thought you understood that, Delilah.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I only spoke when I knew he was done. He’d spewed his frustration, and the frightening red tinge would be draining from his face. He’d relax back in his chair now that the worst of his anger had found a release.
I knew all this even without being there. I’d seen it often enough.
I glanced over at Tess, and she gave me a little nod. She knew it too. The worst was over.
“You understand what you have to do if you want this role?” he asked, his voice patient and teacher-like, as if we were reviewing questions for a quiz.
“Yes, Daddy,” I said softly.
“Good.” His tone changed altogether. “I’ll leave my two girls to figure out a way to sort out this mess, huh?”
There was actually laughter in his voice now, as though this were all some joke and not the rest of our lives we were discussing. I exchanged a look with Tess. I didn’t know what he had on her, but it must’ve been good if she’d been willing to turn on me like that.
“Yes, Daddy,” we said in unison.
“Tess, sweetheart, you can fill Delilah in on what we discussed.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said. “And don’t forget to take your medicine.”
He chuckled. Tess and I smiled. Just one big happy family.
He ended the call, and there was silence in the room before I turned to face my traitorous sister. “You told him.”
She pursed her lips, but she didn’t deny or confirm it. It had to have been her, though. No one else knew about that kiss with Jack.
Stupid Jack.
No, stupid Delilah.
I drew in a deep breath. I couldn’t even bring myself to shout at my sister because when push came to shove, I was the one in the wrong here, and we both knew it. I’d had one job, and instead of seeing it through, I’d been distracted by a guy.
A hot guy, but a guy nonetheless.
There would be plenty of time for hotties when I got back to my real life in L.A., but until then, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Jack. Truth be told, I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted myself around him. He had some sort of effect on me. Chemistry, that’s all it was. I had a flash of those eyes, of the way they seemed to see straight through me and mock me for my lies.
It was just chemistry, and surely my awareness of him would fade over time. But I didn’t have the luxury of time, and I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted.
Tess took a step toward me, and I saw her expression soften with something horrifically close to pity as she reached out to touch my arm.
I pulled away from her. “What did Daddy want you to tell me?” I said, my tone cold. I’d been the idiot for confiding in her when I knew very well that Daddy would pit her against me.
Always.
That was how he got the best out of us. His words, not mine. He was of the opinion that a little sibling rivalry was healthy. Competition makes us excel.
Well, this phone call was the reminder I’d needed that Tess and I weren’t on the same page. Ever. We might have the same goal at the moment, but that only made us temporary allies.
I drew in a deep breath and summoned the cool, calm mask that I could always count on when dealing with my family. I gave away nothing and got even less in return.
Tess took one look at my expression and sighed, turning away to snag her phone and get back to whatever it was she’d been cooking before our father called.
“So?” I nudged. “What was it that Daddy wanted you to discuss with me?”
She opened the oven and peeked in. “He’s not satisfied with how this is progressing. He thinks we need to do something more…”
“Tess,” I snapped. “Stop being vague, and tell me what he wants me to do.”
She sighed, and I saw her shoulders sag for a second before she straightened and turned to face me. “Go rest up, Lila. Monday morning, we’re going to the high school.”
I blinked, my stomach sinking, but I’d be damned if I let her see that. “What for?”
She arched her brows. “Congratulations, sis, you’re about to become the newest member of Pinedale High’s senior class.”
Eleven
Jack
For the record, I didn’t want to feel sorry for Delilah Devereaux.
When I showed up for our first day of school, I spotted her walking through the hallways and I was determined to ignore the stab of sympathy that I inevitably
felt for any new kids in this tiny, cliquey school. Any newcomer was treated like an alien, for a little while at least, until they managed to fit in.
It didn’t help that Delilah wasn’t just new, she also stuck out like a sore thumb.
A stunningly gorgeous sore thumb.
“What is she doing here?” Amber hissed beside me in homeroom. She was addressing Brandon, who sat in front of us, and we both saw his shoulders lift in a shrug.
Lila was sitting in the corner by herself, acting as though she wasn’t aware of the stares and the whispers.
That only made the people staring and whispering more glaringly rude. Like they actually believed she was some sort of ice sculpture that was incapable of hearing their remarks.
Brandon didn’t seem to care what she was still doing here, but I watched her from across the room. Her head was held high, her gaze aloof as she kept her eyes focused on the blackboard, as if there was something there more interesting than Mrs. Crawford’s name scribbled in chalk.
There could only be one reason why she was still here.
Brandon.
He hadn’t told me exactly what she’d said to him, but he’d said enough. She wanted him to come back to Hollywood with her for that ridiculous show. She wanted him to take on his father’s role.
The very idea brought a surge of anger. I tried hard not to think too much about Brandon’s dad. Not that I hadn’t liked the guy. I had. I’d only been a kid when he’d died, but I’d felt the loss. He’d been like a second father to me and a hero to all of us kids in Pinedale.
But I also liked Brandon’s mom—she and my mother were close, and after my mom died Brandon’s mother had taken on a maternal role in my life.
She’d changed after his father died, but I still cared about her.
I still kept her secrets.
That was why I didn’t like thinking about Frank MacMillan. His life and his death had been pushed aside to the dark recesses of my brain. The less I thought about him, the less I had to grapple with the fact that I’d been keeping secrets from my best friend. The guy who was as close to me as a brother.
I didn’t believe for a second that Brandon didn’t know why Lila was still here—he was why she was here. But I let him feign ignorance with Amber. I didn’t know what was going on between the two of them exactly, but they’d gotten close this summer, and I was rooting for them.
If he didn’t want her to know that Lila was trying to woo him away from Pinedale, that was his business.
My business? That was making sure she didn’t succeed.
It wasn’t like I didn’t want the best for Brandon, and if I honestly thought leaving his home right now would be for the best, then I’d be the one to pack his bags. But I knew better than anyone how much his mother needed him, how much the ranch needed him—and more than all that, I knew how much Brandon needed to steer clear of Hollywood.
We’d all seen what that industry had done to his father, and his father had been a hundred times stronger than Brandon. Frank MacMillan had been a grown man with a family and a business before he’d even stepped foot on a sound stage. Brandon was too good a guy to survive in that world, and he was sheltered in a way his father never had been.
I’d be damned if I watched him go down that road. It would kill his mother, and his father would be rolling over in his grave. He was safe here, where I could protect him and his family. I stared down at the closed notebook on my desk as a memory took hold and refused to let go.
The sounds and smells of Frank MacMillan’s hospital room came back to me like they always did. Like it was a memory from last week and not eight years ago.
Brandon had found him unconscious in the bathroom on Christmas Eve.
My mom had taken me to the hospital to help support Brandon. But what I’d found when I’d walked into that hospital room…
I gripped the desk so tightly my knuckles turned white.
I wouldn’t touch that mental landmine. Not now, and maybe not ever. That was in the past. What mattered now was keeping Brandon safe.
I glared over in Lila’s direction instead, but she wasn’t looking at me.
Of course she wasn’t, she wasn’t here for me.
But as much as I tried to ignore the age-old memories, I couldn’t forget the emotions. They threatened to choke me now as they came rearing back. Guilt, fear, confusion.
And then there were Mrs. MacMillan’s words. The glassy-eyed look as she’d gripped my shoulders with her thin, cold fingers. He only has you now, Jack. You have to look out for Brandon. He needs you.
I’d met her eyes and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Those two words had sealed my fate. At least, that was how it felt. An understanding had passed between us.
From that point on, Brandon had become my responsibility, mine to protect just as surely as if he were my little brother.
After my mother passed away and his mother started inviting me over for home-cooked meals and gifting me hand-knitted sweaters… well, by that point, our understanding had been solidified. We were family, linked together forever.
When the bell rang and everyone raced to their first class, I waited in the hallway. It wasn’t a giant school, but it was her first day.
Sure enough, she hovered in the doorway, frowning down at the course schedule in her hand. A group of girls walked past her and giggled, not even bothering to hide their whispers at the new girl’s expense.
I would not feel sorry for her.
Nope.
I wouldn’t do it.
But when her nose scrunched up in confusion and I caught her looking at the room number on the door we’d just walked out of and then craning her neck to see which way the numbers led, I couldn’t stop myself. I walked over and snatched the paper out of her hand.
“Hey,” she said, frowning up at me. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer immediately because I was too busy scanning her course load. “AP English?”
When I looked down at her, she had one brow arched and her lips were pursed. There was the ice queen I knew and hated.
Much as I despised her and everything she represented—not to mention every reason she was here in town—I had this overwhelming urge to ruffle those perfect feathers. To rile her up and expose the real Lila. I wanted to see her blush and watch those icy blue eyes warm with anger... and passion.
My blood pounded in my veins at the thought of the last time I’d seen that heated look in her eyes. At the dazed way she’d looked up at me as the physical attraction between us bubbled over. At the way her lips had looked so perfectly swollen from kissing, at the way—
“Are you going to help me or not?” She nodded toward the sheet in my hand, and a couple of students walking past me jostled me out of my reverie.
“This way,” I said, already leading the way. “You’ll be happy to know that Brandon is in AP English as well.”
Her lips sort of hitched to the side in a barely perceptible smile, grudging and fleeting.
I stopped, ignoring the complaints of the students whose path I’d just blocked. “Of course. You’re in his class on purpose.”
She didn’t insult me by trying to deny it.
She didn’t rush to explain herself either. Crossing her arms over her chest, she met my gaze evenly. “Are you going to show me the way, or aren’t you?”
I made no move to continue. Part of me wanted answers. Part of me wanted to know why she was here, and why it was so important to her to get Brandon on this show, and why she’d lied about who she was, and…
I had questions. Lots of questions. But mainly I wanted to see her again, and not in the middle of a crowded hallway. I wanted to talk to her and understand her and… Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted from her. All I knew was that she was intoxicating to be around. There was something intriguing about her that got under my skin and made me want more.
More touches, more glimpses, more… her.
“How’d you manage to get the same class schedule?” I as
ked.
She arched one brow. “You don’t think I could get into an AP class without bribing someone?” There it was. A flash of something real. It was real… hurt. And she covered it with a smirk. “I’m not as dumb as I look, Jack.”
That flicker of hurt was enough to make me feel like the worst sort of jerk. “I don’t think you’re dumb.” My voice came out gruff, and I covered up my sentimentality by adding, “I might think you’re a lot of things, but dumb is definitely not one of them.”
I was rewarded by a little smile. She shifted from one stiletto heel to another, her toned, tanned legs drawing my attention as she fidgeted beneath my stare.
Her skirt was short and her top clingy.
There was no way every guy in school wasn’t lusting after her right now, and there was no way every girl didn’t know it.
As if on cue, one such girl spoke loudly from behind us. “Seriously? Look at those lips. There’s no way she doesn’t inject them with something.”
This came from Katherine, one of Amber’s friends. Why she still hung out with that girl, I’d never understand.
One of the other girls Katherine was with giggled. “I bet she’s all plastic.”
Through this not-at-all-hushed conversation, Lila’s eyes never met mine. I got annoyed on her behalf—I mean, I might not like the girl, but they didn’t know her motives for being here, and their comments were just rude. Yet, Lila looked unfazed.
And then… well, then she just looked amused.
When they reached our side, she casually turned to face them. “All real, ladies.” She did a move with her free hand, sliding it over her curves with a sexy stroke. “But I know the name of an excellent plastic surgeon if you want to do something about that nose of yours.”
Katherine slapped a hand over her nose as she and her idiot friends ran off in a flurry of hushed whispers and whining.
“Lovely,” I said when Lila turned back to me with a smirk.
She lifted a shrug in false modesty. “Taking down mean girls is one of my favorite pastimes.”
All-American Princess (The Glitterati Files Book 1) Page 8
