Decked with Holly (17 page)

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Authors: Marni Bates

BOOK: Decked with Holly
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Chapter 24
Dominic
 
O
kay, I could see how Holly had become an unhinged mess.
Apparently, it ran in the family.
Her aunt kept calculating calories while her grandpa glared and her cousins flirted with me. The guys seemed relatively sane, but since they only spoke to each other that remained unconfirmed.
The closest the conversation got to even a semblance of normality was when Holly's aunt began describing the girls' activities in Cabo, including their bikini shopping excursion. Either Allison or Claire—I could never keep them straight—chose that moment to examine me beneath half-mast eyelashes and said, “We'll have to give you a private fashion show later,
Nick
.”
Holly stabbed her spoon into her soup, slopping some chowder over the side.
But before I could reply, Mr. Ridgley and Cynthia rushed over to our table.
“Dominic, I was just informed of the breach of your privacy. I'm so sorry!”
Mr. Ridgley certainly seemed concerned but . . . surprised? I didn't believe it for a second. Those photos of our dinner meeting weren't accidental. Mr. Ridgley was lucky that my need to make a good impression on Holly's grandfather trumped the urge to pull him aside for a private chat.
But Cynthia's fingers were already clutching at my shirt collar. “Are you okay, Dominic? Do you need to talk about it?”
They were making it sound like I'd gotten caught in a drive-by shooting.
Sure, I wasn't
happy
about my current situation, but I wasn't injured.
As firmly as I could, without hurting her feelings, I removed Cynthia's arms from my neck. Holly chose that moment to stake her claim by mussing up my hair.
“Nick looks just fine to me. No gaping wounds to report.”
“Hang on a second!” one of the twins blurted out, a devilish glint in her eyes. “You're that girl with the free drinks from the b—lounge,” she quickly caught herself. “The one who claimed to be dating a rock star!”
The other girl (Allison, maybe?) smirked nastily. “I guess he wasn't interested in you after all.”
So that was my leak: A fourteen-year-old, starstruck girl was the reason Holly hadn't been able to silently disappear from my life.
Well, Cynthia was paying for it now. The kid looked absolutely humiliated. Her eyes darted from Allison and Claire to her father and then finally . . . to me.
“I don't know what you're talking about. You must be confusing me with someone else.”
“Not likely. Unless, of course, you've got an identical twin who also claims to have a rock star boyfriend and a daddy who owns cruise ships.”
Cynthia turned another shade of crimson.
“I'd . . . uh, like to offer my deepest apologies,” Mr. Ridgley said at last. “Please let me know if there is any way we can make this up to you, Mr. Wyatt.”
At the moment, I just wanted him gone. “I'll be sure to do that. Thank you.”
My tone was an obvious dismissal.
“Well, I'll, uh, look forward to hearing from you then. Come, Cynthia. Let's not monopolize any more of Mr. Wyatt's time.”
Cynthia tossed me one last desperate look over her shoulder, as if she expected me to save her as she was led out of the dining room. Like I have some kind of rock star power that could get her out of trouble and make everything perfect.
Unfortunately, I don't.
But that didn't stop me from feeling like shit for being unable to help the kid.
“I see how it is!” Holly's grandfather proclaimed, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the table. “You've got girls throwing themselves at you. Well, you listen here, boy, you—”
“I am only interested in Holly.”
My interjection seemed to pacify her grandpa, but I could tell the twins didn't believe a word of it. The looks they shot me were three parts seduction and one part sympathy. As if they knew I'd been roped into this charade with Holly and could happily make my vacation more . . . relaxing.
Time to get out of there.
“Well, this was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
Her grandpa smiled, which should have made him seem more approachable but instead he resembled a shark. “Holly will be having dinner with her family every night. Starting now. You're free to join us, of course.”
He probably thought that just the threat of another family function would send me fleeing the dining room.
But I could tough it out.
I made a deal and I always live up to my end of a bargain.
So I leaned back in the chair and pretended that I had all the time in the world to make small talk. “I'm looking forward to it. So tell me, how—”
But I never got to finish my question because Holly yanked on my sleeve and blurted, “Nick, we need to get out of here!”
The paparazzi weren't storming the formal dining room but everyone around us had pulled out their cell phones, hoping to snap photos of the rock star and his new girlfriend.
Apparently, Holly didn't feel like putting on another show.
Neither did I.
Definitely time to hide out in the suite.
“Well, nice meeting everyone. See you tomorrow,” I managed before Holly and I made a speedy exit. Not exactly the best way to leave an overprotective grandfather. So much for making a good impression.
“I think your grandpa hates me.”
Holly surprised me by slipping her hand into mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze. After a day full of romping around on a beach and pretending to be madly in love, the gesture should have felt insignificant.
Except I didn't think she was playing it up for a camera this time.
“You're the first guy I've ever introduced as my boyfriend. I think he just needs some time to adjust to the idea.”
That made two of us.
“So,” Holly continued brightly. “I was thinking we could go horseback riding in Puerto Vallarta tomorrow. That's a tourist thing, right?”
I had no idea, but I had no intention of doing it. Horses . . . make me nervous.
Not that I had any intention of admitting that to Holly.
“I've got a better idea: scuba diving.”
She sighed. “You're not going to let that drop, are you?”
“No, I'm not. The real question is whether you're going to wimp out.”
I had a feeling the two of us were equally competitive people. Whether it was against her cousins or the paparazzi . . . or me, she usually put up one hell of a fight. So daring her into scuba diving seemed like the best way to rope her in.
“I'm not going to jump into the ocean just because you think it's fun, Nick.”
Once again, she had gotten way ahead of herself.
“I'm not
letting
you jump into the ocean with me. Ever.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nick, you don't
let
me do anything.”
Crap. I had a feeling I'd just messed up one of those girl things where you don't know what you said wrong but it still offended her.
“I'm not diving offshore with you. Until you're certified, you have no business leaving a swimming pool.”
“Then why do you want to go scuba diving so badly if we never leave the pool?”
Uh, yeah, she definitely wasn't following my train of thought.
“You can get a scuba lesson while I do a reef dive. Then we can meet up for lunch.”
Her look was one of complete disgust. “We're supposed to be a
couple,
Nick. You know what that means, right? Together. Not just hanging out until it's inconvenient for you. You can't just drop me off at a lesson like I'm in
kindergarten
. That's
not
how it works.”
“But that's what real couples do,” I argued. “Compromise. Figure out what works best for both people and then do it. What's the problem here?”
“The problem is that we're not a real couple!” Holly fought to keep her exasperation hidden from people walking down the hallway with us. She lowered her voice to a muted hiss. “Look, have you ever noticed that when something isn't real it has to seem even more realistic than the truth?”
Um, no. I hadn't. Mainly because I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Take our relationship, for example,” Holly said, since I clearly wasn't following her skewed line of logic. “Now I could tell people that we got together after you mistook me for a zombie and pepper sprayed me in the face but . . . no one would believe it. My
best friend
didn't even believe it. And yet, both of us know that's exactly how it happened.”
“So what does that have to do with scuba diving?”
“Same principle applies. If we want people to believe that we're crazy in love then we have to act more like a couple than, you know, actual couples.”
She was making my head hurt. “So you're saying you won't go scuba diving then.”
“Oh, I'll go. As long as you take the class with me.”
“But I'm certified.”
“So you'll be the smartest kid in class. Considering how competitive you are, I bet you'll love it.”
It was either resort scuba lessons or horseback riding—not that I saw climbing onto the back of a large creature with enormous teeth as an option.
“Fine.”
Holly beamed. “Excellent.” Using one hand to stifle a yawn she slid her key card into the door and let us into the suite. “Oh, and for the record, Nick, I get to pick our activity when we reach Puerto Vallarta. After all, that's what you said people in real relationships do: compromise.”
As long as it didn't involve horses, I doubted letting Holly pick something out would be a hardship.
But having her referencing people in real relationships in the same sentence as us, that might keep me awake for a while.
Not because I didn't like hearing it but because it sounded sort of . . . nice.
Which meant that something had to be very wrong with me.
Chapter 25
Holly
 
T
his was yet another huge mistake.
Not surprising, considering that I'd been doing a real bang-up job even before I agreed to this fauxmance and started lying to my grandpa. What was one more act of stupidity to add to the list?
“It's not going to attack you,” Nick pointed out calmly as I stared nervously at the hulking mass of underwater equipment. “Relax. Breathe.”
“How am I supposed to breathe when that thing is going to be my only air supply?”
Nick looked bored. “We're in a swimming pool. In the shallow end. If you get uncomfortable, all you have to do is stand up.”
“Oh, will you look at that? I'm uncomfortable. Let's leave. Now.”
“Shut up, already. The instructor is going over hand signals.”
I flipped him the middle finger. “I think I've got that one covered.”
Nick ignored me.
Which is how, thirty minutes later, I knew that the scary breathing thingie was called a regulator. And that if I put too much air in my buoyancy control device underwater, I'd go skyrocketing up to the surface—which could cause air bubbles inside me to rupture and kill me. Yeah, that was comforting.
Not.
Of course, the perky dive assistant assured me that I wasn't at risk since the pool at its deepest only reached ten feet.
Something Nick could have told me himself if he wasn't so busy smirking and discussing nearby reefs with yet another dive assistant. I thought I heard him mention something about a night dive but I chose to ignore it.
Instead I focused on remaining calm while I was strapped into the equipment by reminding myself that he couldn't let me die—no matter how badly he might want to get rid of me. If
anything
happened the press would annihilate Nick with endless speculation.
So, it had to be okay if Nick was willing to stake his career on it.
And even though I was nervous, I didn't honestly want to chicken out. Scuba diving with a rock star in Puerto Vallarta? Yeah, that story would go over well at the parties that Jen and I would doubtless be invited to now. Then again, I wondered whether that girl from last night had been thinking something similar when she tried to pass off Nick as her boyfriend.
The way my cousins had humiliated her was
nothing
compared to the way they'd go after me if they found an opening. They were probably still plotting ways of getting me into trouble without revealing that they had stumbled into the room with drunken strangers and kicked their seasick cousin out. Even Aunt Jessica would have a hard time spinning that in favor of her precious little girls.
But the time to worry about the Twins from Hell wasn't right before I tried breathing underwater.
Preparing myself for a panicked struggle for oxygen, I submerged my head completely underwater.
Except . . . well, it was amazing.
I had expected it to be exciting and different, but it took me actually pressing the air out of my buoyancy control device and sinking to the bottom of the pool to understand why Nick had been so insistent.
There was a sense of rightness that reminded me of seeing an eye doctor and knowing absolutely that the letters on the wall were easier to see with option number one. Everything came into focus. Even my Darth Vader breathing struck me as soothing rather than creepy. And for a moment I could almost believe that if I just stayed underwater long enough the life I left on the surface would fix itself without me.
I lay on my back and watched the air bubbles from each exhale make their way up to the surface.
It was so peaceful.
Or at least it was until Nick swam over to me and flashed the “Are you okay?” hand gestures with the ease of long practice.
I was tempted to send him the middle finger again, just for fun. But it seemed ungrateful since I would never have tried scuba diving if he hadn't pushed me . . . and scuba lessons don't come cheap. One glance at the price in the brochure and I knew that my publicist salary was now utterly depleted.
Completely worth it.
The last time I felt
this
relaxed . . . I came up empty. I always have a great time with Jen (exempting our Santa crisis, of course), but she's not exactly a calm person. She tends to get excited over
everything,
whether that's spotting a new guy to crush on or wearing a shirt she had forgotten she owned. Jen floats through life while I sometimes feel like a young child dragged around by an enormous helium balloon into oncoming traffic.
Now
this
was the vacation I'd been hoping for.
Minus the rock star and the rumors and the paparazzi.
But a girl can't have everything.
So when Nick flashed me the “Are you okay?” signal, looking completely comfortable underwater (no real surprise there: The guy could stroll into a ballet studio in a stretchy pink leotard and remain unfazed), I didn't even try to hide my enjoyment. Although, I did struggle to contain my grin in case the mouthpiece thingie wouldn't work as well if water seeped in.
I signaled back that I was fine and waited for him to nod and leave since I wasn't panicking or hyperventilating or anything. But instead, he took my hand and led me around the pool. Which was completely unnecessary. I might be new to scuba diving but I still knew how to
swim
.
Still, linking my fingers into his and enjoying my newfound sense of weightlessness . . . not exactly a hardship.
In fact, the scuba lesson ended too soon to my way of thinking. Although I probably should have just been grateful that I hadn't spotted any photographers, since my one-piece bathing suit isn't exactly sexy. Not something I wanted plastered in tabloids so that America could vote on whether I should call Jenny Craig or join a twenty-four-hour fitness club. I didn't want to deal with any of it.
A mentality I was determined to maintain even when we surfaced.
“Okay. You were right, Nick. That was incredible.”
Nick tilted his head and hit his ear as if he thought there must be water in it. “I'm sorry, can you repeat that?”
I rolled my eyes. “You were right. Thanks for taking me diving.”
For a second I thought he might keep playing it up and pretend I had shocked him into a heart attack or something. Instead, he just grinned. “Glad you liked it.”
And with one easy movement, he helped me hoist my equipment onto the rim of the pool.
“It was just so . . . quiet.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt stupid. There were a billion ways to enjoy silence that were significantly less expensive if that was all I wanted. But somehow underwater the silence had become something
more
. I just didn't know how to express it.
Nick only nodded. “It's even better out in the ocean.” He gestured at the pool behind us. “Not much to see in here.”
“I can only imagine.” Which was true. Although that was definitely something I would have to check out for myself . . . someday.
“Well, what do you want to do now?” Nick hauled himself out of the water and began toweling off. It wasn't the first time I had seen his naked chest, and since his boxers covered about as much of him as his swim trunks, I should have been able to ignore it entirely. No big deal. Just a really hot guy drying himself after a scuba diving lesson.
“Uh.” I struggled to string words into a complete sentence. “You know. Whatever.”
“Skydiving it is, then.”
I rolled my eyes, but when he slipped his hand back into mine and we dripped off to the resort changing rooms, it felt good to have an inside joke.
It meant that I wasn't the target, for a change.
And in that moment, having our every move photographed didn't intimidate me quite as much. Keeping secrets from Jen didn't appear so terrible either. And continuing this fake relationship to make my cousins jealous didn't bother me in the slightest.
Even the prospect of facing all my relatives at dinner that night didn't faze me.
But it really should have.

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