Next In Line: A Cake Series Novel

by J. Bengtsson

  Grace burst through the front door as I was making my way up the front stairs. She jumped into my arms, hugging me tight. No one gave unapologetic hugs like my sister. Back when we were kids, I could scarcely get her off me; now it seemed I had to beg for attention. I thawed in her arms. Grace was so delicate and virtuous. So pure and kind. People like her were gobbled up in the real world, and that was exactly why I’d pledged to protect her from the start.

  “It took you long enough to come see me,” she said as I set her back on her feet.

  “Two days is long? You’re lucky I managed to squeeze you in at all.”

  “Oh yes. You’re so important now.”

  “Where’s the dude?”

  “He’s napping.”

  I raised a brow. “Napping? Does he also eat dinner at four?”

  “Stop.” She slapped my shoulder. “He has jet lag, jerk. We both do. Besides, he’s had a rough couple of days. Our family isn’t easy on the nerves. Just when he starts getting more comfortable, another famous person strolls through the front door. I think his heart might have stopped for a few seconds when Jake came over after dinner last night.”

  “At least he won’t have to worry about me. After Jake, I’ll be a letdown.”

  “Hardly. You’re the one he’s most nervous to meet.”

  “Me? Why?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think we both know.”

  “You told him about Rory?”

  “I tell him about everything.”

  “Everything?” I challenged.

  Her eyes fluttered up to meet mine.

  “Okay, maybe not everything,” she admitted.

  “What did you tell him about me?”

  “Not much. I’ve told Elliott bits and pieces of our past. He knows the role you played in my life. He also knows you’re a wee bit possessive of your baby sister, so that sort of terrifies him.”

  “Good.” I perked up. “Healthy fear never hurt anyone.”

  “No, Quinn, not good. You promised me restraint.”

  “What am I going to do, Grace? He’s an economist who naps. The chances of me having to drop-kick him back to England are relatively low.”

  “Actually,” Grace said, looking back at the house before grabbing my arm and steering me away, “there will be no risk at all. This whole alpha male routine you’ve got going on is tired and outdated. I’m not in danger if a guy gets within twenty feet of me.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll move the perimeter back—five feet and then I pounce. Are you happy now?”

  She sat on a retaining wall, pulling me down with her. I watched as Grace opened and closed her mouth, clearly trying to find the words. This could not be good. She was never nervous around me. Grace placed her hand over mine and finally spoke her piece. “I need you to hear me, Quinn. Really, really hear me. Can you do that?”

  “I’ve been working around amplifiers lately, so I can’t promise anything.”

  “Quinn!” There was no room for humor in her glare.

  “Jesus, Grace. Yes, I’m listening.”

  “Good. Let me start by saying, I adore you. You know that. I always have.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m about to be broken up with?”

  “Shush.” She laughed. “This is the part where you listen and don’t talk. I like Elliott. No, I love him. We have a ton in common. We laugh together; we study together; we like the same type of shows.”

  “Sounds sexy. Go on.”

  “Quinn.” She placed her finger on my lips. “Mouth closed. When we were kids, you stepped into the role of my protector, and I loved knowing you’d always be there for me. I counted on you. You were my knight. But I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m fully grown with a life of my own, and I no longer need your particular brand of savioring. I forgave you for what you did to my last, what, four relationships, but I’m telling you right now, Elliott is off-limits. Do you understand? Off. Limits. If you so much as raise your voice, or god forbid, threaten him in any way, you will lose your hug privileges, and worse, my trust—forever.”

  I sat silently, processing her words. All these years I’d spent keeping my baby sister safe, and now she was picking some dude… who napped… over me?

  “Everything I’ve done has been to protect you, Grace.”

  “Maybe when we were kids, yes. But somewhere along the way, it became less about protecting me from harm and more about keeping me from living. It stopped being about me altogether. I was just the collateral damage to whatever crap was going on in your head.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. You seem to think I’m breakable. But I’m not blown glass, Quinn. I won’t shatter if you drop me. I’m a McKallister, just like you. Just like Emma and Kyle and Keith and Jake. If the rest of you don’t break, why do you think I do? It’s insulting, honestly.”

  I didn’t have an answer for Grace because there wasn’t one. The truth was, Grace was every bit as resilient as I was. She’d survived right alongside me and had probably done a better job of it than I had. So why had I set different standards for her? Why did I see her as fragile?

  Looking her over now, I could clearly see Grace was not the waiflike girl I’d always cast her in the role of. She was lengthy in height, not Great Dane like Emma, but she wasn’t a corgi either. Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, Grace had grown into a strong, sporty young woman with bright eyes and a kind soul.

  “I’m tough and capable and smart. I demand to be treated with respect because I see it in how Dad treats Mom and how my brothers treat their women. But most of all because of you. You put me first, Quinn, when no one else could. You kept me safe and loved and cared for. I never wanted for anything… because of you. And now I’m asking you to keep putting me first. Let me love and live my own life and in return…” Tears welled in Grace’s eyes as she struggled to maintain composure. “In return, I will absolve you of your duty. You served me well, big brother. So, sit back and relax, knowing you did your job well. I’ll take it from here.”

  I grabbed my heart and groaned. Grace had always been the one constant in my life. By keeping her safe and protected, I’d guaranteed myself at least one person who wouldn’t leave when I needed them most. But I couldn’t keep her locked in a tower forever. I had to let her go. “You’re killing me, Grace.”

  “I know.” She laid her head on my shoulder. “But you’re not losing me. I’ll always love you forever.”

  “I know. And I love you too.”

  Just then a tall, lanky, bespectacled Harry Potterish hipster-looking dude stepped out onto the front landing looked fresh and rested. And thankfully, harmless enough. No blue-haired mullet. No tattoos. And he napped. How could I ask for more?

  “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Did I interrupt?”

  “No, Grace has finished the lashing,” I said, standing up. If I was going to be the person Grace needed in her adult life, I might as well start now.

  Elliott walked toward me, hand outstretched, and we exchanged greetings. Normal. Friendly. Boring. Whew. I’d dodged a bullet with this one. He made not being a prick so much easier. And that accent. When he talked, I felt like I was flying around Hogwarts on a broom. Hell, if I wasn’t already spoken for by a girl who wanted nothing to do with me, I’d consider dating the dude.

  The three of us chatted comfortably for several minutes before a distant voice captured my attention.

  Okay, Angels, if you’ll look to your right, you’ll see the McKallister Mansion.

  I cocked my head. That voice—faintly projected over an intercom—I’d heard it before… at the press conference. I remembered thinking it sounded like Jess at the time, and I still thought it sounded like her now.

  Neither Jake nor Quinn live here, but we do spot them visiting on occasion…

  Grace and Elliott began to chat amongst themselves.

  “Shhh,” I said, putting my hand up. “Do you hear that?”

  We all remained silent as the faint voice continued to talk. An
d they aren’t the only two famous family members…

  “It’s a sightseeing bus, Quinn. Just like the thousands of others who’ve passed by us for years and years. We should probably go in. Quinn’s a big deal now,” she said, grinning as she offered each of us a hand. Elliott took it. I did not.

  I glanced toward the street and spotted a bus. I recognized that one. It was Angel Line Tours—the sightseeing company with the pink-winged buses. They’d been coming by once, sometimes twice a day for my whole childhood. Grace had always been indifferent to these tours, but I hated them with a passion. My list of grievances was long, given the particularly sullied history my family had with these intruders rolling by at all hours of the day and night, angling their long-lens cameras through the slats in our security gates and snapping shots of us in our private moments.

  To be sure, the evasive tactics started way before we had tall fences to protect us. In fact, the exploitation dated all the way back to the day Jake had gone missing. Camera crews, reporters, and lots and lots of the curious bystanders came out in droves and set up shop on our front lawn. Some of the bolder trespassers would knock on our door or peek in our windows. It was like living inside a reverse snow globe where the storm raged outside our fragile glass bubble.

  The crowds multiplied by the thousands after Jake’s miraculous return, packing us all in tighter. I remembered that time of fear and uncertainty. The onslaught eased months later, as Jake’s story eventually became old news in the eyes of the media and life slowly began to return to normal…or at least a new normal. But as it turned out, Jake was never meant to fade away, and as he rose to fame, he dragged the rest of us along with him.

  The day Jake bought this place for my parents was the day order returned to my life. Not only did we move into a virtual mansion on one of the most desirable streets in LA County, but I also grew up in affluence, never wanting for anything. And while the giant, sweeping security gates did their job of keeping intruders off our lawn, there had been no cure for the buses that sat out front with their tour guides regurgitating the story of our tainted lives over and over for the enjoyment of their giddy, snap-happy tourists.

  The McKallisters, of course…

  That voice. And then I remembered what Jess had said to me in the car that day when I’d ask what she did for a living.

  She’d said, “My duties consist mainly of being the head angel.”

  I jumped to my feet. Holy shit.

  “Quinn?” Grace swished her head around, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  “No. Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. I think that… that tour guide…”

  I didn’t finish my sentence because I was already sprinting across the driveway.

  I wasn’t just chasing down my girl.

  I was running toward the enemy.

  20

  Jess: Stowaway

  So wrapped up was I in my commentary that I didn’t see the figure of a man sprinting down the long, fancily paved driveway. I didn’t see the side door to the security gate swing open. I didn’t see him race toward the bus.

  But my passengers sure did. Every single one of them. I looked up from my monologue only to find thirty-five stunned expressions staring out the open windows.

  “Jess!” he yelled, causing my head to whip around at record speed.

  Quinn?

  And then he was there at the door to my bus—his palms flat against the glass panes, wearing the same shocked expression as me. We stood there staring, me rocking in place, him panting.

  He knocked. “Open the door, Jess.”

  I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. Keeping him away was manageable when he’d actually been away, but now, standing so near with that impossibly handsome face… it was unfair. Inhumane.

  “You want me to open it?” Delene, my driver and friend, asked with that cynical expression on her face never breaking. She’d just as soon run him down than facilitate the first inklings of love.

  I wanted to say yes, but if Delene opened that door, she’d unseal the last barrier to the make-believe world I’d been living in since the two of us parted. A world where Quinn McKallister didn’t rule my heart. If she let him in, I’d never be able to kick him back out. I scanned the interior of the bus, trying to determine if I could use my passengers for cover, but I could tell by their eager and excited faces that they would be of no help. They wanted Quinn on the bus as much as he wanted an invitation.

  “Jess,” Delene said. “He’s staring at me. If you want me to open the door, show me a sign.”

  Quinn popped his head into the first open window. “Jess, just show her a sign.”

  “Yeah, show her a sign!” multiple passengers agreed, the mantra repeating itself over and over.

  I looked to him, that irresistible smile laying siege upon my heart.

  “Come on, Jess. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Just give me five minutes of your time. Please.”

  That started a new chant. “Just five minutes.”

  I turned to Delene and exhaled. “Go ahead.”

  She opened the bus door, and Quinn took a step in. But I was there, pushing him back out.

  “Not here.”

  “Then where?”

  I placed my palm against his chest and walked him away from my bus, back toward the gigantic security gate he’d just exited from.

  “Uh, Jess, what are you doing?” he asked, amused, as he allowed me to control the backward direction of our reunion.

  “Getting you out of earshot of our audience, Quinn. Everyone is staring.”

  “That’s because you made a scene.”

  “Me? I wasn’t the one standing there with those big ol’ Puss in Boots sad eyes.”

  He laughed. “God, you’ve got a way of stripping away my self-esteem, don’t you?”

  When we hit his fence, he grabbed for my face, drawing me in, his lips against mine. An instant heat swept through me, my body already responding to his kiss. His touch. No. I disengaged from his hold on me and backed away.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

  “I shouldn’t be here?” He chuckled, pointing toward the McKallister home. “That’s my house. If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s you who shouldn’t be here.”

  Oh. Yes. Well, that was factually correct. But still, he should’ve just remained tucked away inside his castle. “This is my job, Quinn.”

  “Let me see if I have this right,” he said, the look on his face indicating that he was as genuinely amazed by this turn of events as I was. “Your job is stalking my family?”

  I paused. How to answer that one? “Um…I stalk other people’s families too.”

  “Oh, well, that makes it all better.”

  But Quinn wasn’t mad. Far from it. He was loving this, and if I weren’t so blindsided, I probably would be too.

  “Is that why you wouldn’t return my texts? I mean, by your reaction it’s obvious I had the right number all along, and you just weren’t returning my calls.”

  “No. And then yes.”

  “What?”

  “No to your first question. My job has nothing to do with why I didn’t text you back. But, yes, to the second question. I was purposely avoiding you.”

  He searched my face for an explanation. “Why? I thought we had something.”

  This was where I should have stuck the sword in and twisted, vanquishing him from my life forever. It would’ve been so easy. But it also would’ve been a lie. I didn’t want him gone. And he needed to know that.

  My shoulders drooped. “We did.”

  He exhaled. “So I wasn’t imagining it?”

  “No.”

  “Then why? I don’t care about any of this,” he said, sweeping his arms to encompass me and my bus full of eyewitnesses.

  Yet he said it like he did care. Like maybe it actually could be a reason for my disqualification. “Wait. What do you have against my job?”

  “Nothing.”

  But he didn’t meet my eye. “Quinn?”


  “What?”

  “You obviously have a problem.”

  “Okay, fine. If I were going to handpick the profession of my one true love, it probably would not be as a tour guide for a ‘map of the stars’ sightseeing excursion, that’s all. Okay?”

  “What in the living hell, Quinn? Of all hang-ups in the world, that is a very specific one. I mean some folks have aversions to snakes or germs or people who take more than ten items through the express lane at the grocery store, but you… you draw the line at sightseeing tours?”

  Quinn looked like a man caught in crossfire.

  I slapped a hand to my hip, strangely pissed at his very elitist phobia.

  “Oh, man.” He sighed. “Let’s just say I have an issue with my life being on display for the entertainment of others. And sure, you can say we invited it by courting fame, but in our particular case, we didn’t… I didn’t. Notoriety was thrust on us by a serial killer who picked the wrong victim. You don’t know what it’s been like for me to grow up with a lens always trained on me—with people looking in through these bars and oohing and ahhing as I ran past like I was some zoo animal. Maybe it would have been easier had I not been raised to fear strangers.”

  “So, why choose the exact same path for yourself, Quinn? If you think you’re going to escape the lens now, you’re crazy. You’re everywhere, and it’s only going to get worse. You’ll never live a normal life.”

  “And that’s my choice. Look, I’m not disputing that most celebrities need this attention to stay relevant. Probably most even crave it. But when I was a kid, I didn’t choose it. Nor did my siblings or my parents. Hell, Jake didn’t either. So, yeah, I have some weird hang-ups about your profession. But I can work through them”—he paused to flash me a killer-watt smile—“for you.”

  The idea that I’d played a part in his misery growing up bothered me. The McKallisters really were victims of circumstance.

  “Quinn, I’m sorry. I never considered any of that. It’s a job. It pays the bills.”