Authors: Nikki Wilson
"Just ignore them and pretend like we are madly in love," she said, then laughed like he had just said the funniest thing. Then she placed her hand on top of his.
He paused for a moment before taking her hand in his and fastened a smile on his face. "You do know those contacts make you look like a hideous monster, right?" Then he used his other hand to caress hers lovingly. .
"What a charmer you are." She reached over and gently touched his cheek. "How do you manage to stay single? Really, it's a mystery."
The sarcasm seeped through the robotic voice. The British accent combined with the synthesizer gave her an alien sound that was strangely hypnotic, though not in a good way. More like, she was going to lull him to sleep and dissect his insides.
"What about you, Duchess? You’re so desperate for a date, you'll go out with an amputee? Or did you forget this is a pity date in an attempt to make you look human, but you probably should have rethought your outfit."
He watched the smile slip from her face just a hair before she threw her head back and laughed. Then her foot began to rub the lower part of his calf in a provocative manner. He could see the camera flashes going off in his peripheral vision. He hoped those reporters were getting as many pictures as they could because as soon as this meal was over, he was leaving.
"You don't know anything about me," she said.
They were interrupted by the waiter before Chase could respond. They ordered, and he did his best to look in love without speaking. Once the food arrived, it was much easier. The meal lasted a lot longer than necessary, but apparently, fancy restaurants serve the food in courses and keep you waiting between each one.
When they finally finished dessert, Chase exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
He stood, but Duchess remained seated, looking up at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes, pulled her chair out for her, and held out his hand.
"See? That wasn't so terrible, was it?" she drawled. "By morning, everyone will be talking about how in love we are."
He snorted. "People shouldn't believe everything they see."
"Even so, just to make sure, I think you should kiss me."
"What? That wasn't part of the deal." Chase couldn't help but think of his kisses with Katie. His knees weakened at the thought of Katie in his arms and the feel of her soft body next to his. Katie was the complete opposite of the woman before him, and he couldn’t even bring himself to pretend to want to kiss her.
"It's just for the pictures, love. It will be quick, trust me."
Chase's head turned. The way she'd said "trust me" reminded him of Katie. He stared into Duchess’s blood-red eyes, searching for something even though he wasn't sure what. Duchess shifted her weight, and then she bit her bottom lip, just like Katie had right before he'd kissed her.
Chase gazed at the face before him and noticed the same face shape as Katie's. The nose was different, but if he looked closely, he could see the slight seams of putty. His eyes went to her mouth, and even with the bright red lipstick, he could recognize the shape of the lips he'd been craving for weeks now. Was it possible? Could this be Katie?
"Come, dahling. It was just a suggestion. Let's leave." She began to walk past him, but Chase grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She bit her bottom lip again, and Chase knew how to find out the truth.
Leaning down, he placed his lips on hers and gently kissed her, waiting patiently for her response. When her hands reached up for the back of his neck, there was no denying it—Duchess was Katie. He knew it with every fiber of his being.
Pulling back, he waited to catch his breath before speaking, "Katie?"
Her eyes went big, and she stepped back quickly.
"What about her?" she tried to choke out, but the kiss had moved the synthesizer microphone away from her mouth, and it was Katie's voice with a British accent that he heard.
She quickly readjusted the mic and tried to stand up taller.
"It is you. Don't try to deny it again."
For a moment, he thought she was going to continue the charade. Instead, she grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward a door in the back of the restaurant. They emerged in the kitchen, and Duchess continued to push him past the bewildered cooks and waiters through another door, this one leading to the alley behind the restaurant.
"Katie," he began.
"Stop." She put her finger over his lips. "You can't say that. Ever."
"But it's you."
"Shh! Do you want to ruin me? Nobody can know the truth." She looked up and down the alley like a spy trying to evade her evil nemesis.
"Ruin you?" He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice. "You already did that. You chose to become this monster for fame and fortune."
"It's not like that," she protested, moving the microphone out of the way.
"What is it like, then? Please enlighten me."
"I'm not good enough to get a record deal."
"Bull!" he retorted.
"My mom got cancer, and I had to do whatever I could to save her—even becoming this character. It doesn't matter what you think because I did what I had to do."
Chase found it hard to look at the face of Duchess and hear Katie's voice. She had lied to him. Worst of all, she was lying to herself.
"Did you? Or is that what you told yourself so you could become someone else and lose yourself?"
"Duchess has put food on the table and paid for treatment after treatment. Do you know how much it costs to have cancer? And did cancer ask if we could afford it? No, it was very rude like that, and I did what I needed to do."
"Yeah, and how's that working for you?"
"What do you mean by that?"
He gave a heavy sigh as he thought of the best way to say it. "All the money in the world can't save your mom from cancer, Katie.” He said it gently, but by the look on her face, it appeared as if he'd just smacked her. "I just mean ..."
She held up her hand and backed away. "I know what you meant." Her voice was cold as she pulled a phone out of the top of her dress. He didn't know she could hide anything in there.
He listened as she told the limo driver to pick her up in the alley. She clicked off the phone, and they stood in awkward silence. Chase didn't know what else to say. Luckily, she spoke first.
"You fulfilled your side of the bargain. No more dating Duchess."
"And don't worry about the benefit concert. I can handle it from here." He wasn't sure that was true, but he knew he couldn't be around Katie, knowing he couldn't trust her. He shook his head at the irony. He'd thought, or maybe just hoped, she was different from his ex-wife, but she was just the same. She pretended to be someone else to get what she wanted.
The car pulled up, and Chase watched her climb in. He didn't move—he would rather walk home than ride with her. He watched the limo pull away and with it, the hope for a new future he'd foolishly allowed himself to want. He wouldn't let that happen again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Katie didn’t let herself look out the back window of the limo. She squeezed her eyes shut. Tears streaked down her cheeks, washing away the white makeup in long, tan lines. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but she’d known it was going to have to end at some point. They were too different, and he was right. She liked being Duchess sometimes, not worrying about what people thought because it wasn’t really her. She could say anything without consequences. In fact, the more outrageous Duchess acted, the more her music sold. That’s what mattered, right?
The heavy feeling in her heart rebelled at those thoughts. Selling music wasn’t all that mattered. She knew that, didn’t she? Part of her tried to say that Chase mattered, but she pushed that voice down. He would have left her eventually—it might as well happen now. No one really stayed in her life. Not even her mother.
As the car pulled up in front of her house, Katie wiped at the tears on her face, though she only succeeded in smearing white makeup all over the backs of her hands. The ridiculous stiletto heels made it difficult for her to climb the steps into the house as quickly as she would have liked. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she pulled off the bright red shoes and threw them on the ground.
“Miss Duchess?” Maria came down the stairs.
“What are you still doing here?” Katie asked.
“Come.” Maria didn’t wait for Katie to respond, but went back up the stairs.
Katie suddenly had a sinking feeling in her heart. “Mom?” she whispered before taking the stairs two at a time. Maria held the door open for her, and she entered the dark room. She could see her mother’s silhouette in the bed illuminated by the weak light of the small lamp on the nightstand. The hospice nurse came around the bed to meet Duchess at the door.
“I’m sorry. You must have the permission of the family to be here, and she can’t be agitated.” The nurse blocked the way, and Katie just stared back, not understanding.
The nurse looked down, and Katie followed her gaze to the bright red Duchess dress. She wanted nothing more than to run to her mother’s side and send this nurse packing, but how long would it be before the nurse went to the tabloids? It was bad enough that Chase figured out her secret—she couldn’t let that happen again.
She still wore the microphone, and adjusted it before she used it to speak. “Is she … um … alive?”
The nurse blinked before answering. “Her breathing has become more labored.”
She backed out of the room and nodded before going to Duchess’s room to change. With the door shut behind her, Katie looked around. The closet had bright, ridiculous costumes lining every wall, with corsets, hoop skirts, and feathers. The room smelled of Chanel No. 5 and powder. Wigs of every shape and abnormal color sat on shelves that went around the whole room.
There was a time when this room made her smile. A time when she felt like a princess in a fairy tale. Now the room seemed to close in on her, becoming a prison she couldn’t escape. Katie’s chest tightened. Her mother was in the other room, and only the costume was keeping them apart.
She fumbled with the buttons in the back. Normally, she would call for Maria to help her, but right then, she didn’t want to rely on anyone else. Instead, she tore at the dress and heard a tearing sound, followed by the popping of buttons. She continued to pull the dress off, tears falling down her cheeks.
The wig came next, then she shimmied out of the tight leather pants. She threw each item down on the floor, hating each article. She no longer wanted to be this person. She thought of the look of horror on Chase’s face when he’d found out the truth. He hadn’t been able to look at her the same. The truth hadn’t set her free—it had ruined her life.
No,
she thought honestly,
Duchess ruined my life.
All this time, she thought she was doing this for her mom, but the blinders left her eyes, and she saw the monster she’d become. It all started innocently enough—just give the public what they wanted. The outrageous clothes and synthesized music were just part of the disguise—all to please the crowds and make money. The money, she’d told herself, was to save her mother. Only it didn’t save her at all.
As she looked around the room at the money she’d spent on everything around her, she suddenly felt sick. She’d told herself she needed to spend money to make money. The mansion was only for show—at least, that’s what she’d told her mother. It was necessary for the image of Duchess. She’d ignored her mother’s pleas to buy a modest home. She’d ignored her mother’s pleas to stop all the chemo treatments and the many miracle cures. Shirley had only wanted a quiet end to her life. Instead, Katie dragged her to concerts and dressed her up as a decoy. That had been anything but quiet, and for what? So Katie could live this lie. So she could feel the adrenaline rush she got from being on stage. For the money. For these expensive clothes. For the big house.
None of it mattered now. It never had. The ridiculousness of her life struck her as hilarious. It started out as a low giggle and turned into hysterical laughter, but it wasn’t funny. She figured it out too late. The laughter faded into sobs. Everything she should have done hit her square in the chest, taking the breath from her lungs. How had she let this happen?
She didn’t know how long she lay on the floor, curled up in a ball, wearing nothing but her bra and underwear. She stopped crying and slowly peeled herself off the carpet. It was time to be with her mother. The urgency she’d felt when she first arrived home turned into reluctance. How could she face her mother now that she saw her own selfishness?
She pushed through that feeling and went to the back of the room to the hidden closet full of Katie’s normal clothes. She put on sweat pants, warm slippers, and an old T-shirt that had belonged to her brother. It felt appropriate, like she was getting a hug from him. Then she went into the large adjoining bathroom and cleaned Duchess off her face, including the fake nose. She brushed her hair and smiled weakly into the mirror. She wanted to be strong for her mom, but she wasn’t sure she could do it.
Sighing, she walked down the hallway to her mother’s room. The hospice nurse hurried to the door like a bouncer at a nightclub only admitting those on the A-list. Her stance relaxed as she saw Katie.
“Oh, Miss Murphy, it’s you”
“What happened?” Katie suddenly felt cold fingers encircle her heart as she anticipated the worst.
“Shirley’s lungs are shutting down. It won’t be much longer. It’s time to gather all the family.”
“But she’s still breathing?”
“Yes.”
Relief washed over Katie, and she went to her mother’s bedside.
The nurse picked up her purse and added, “I’m leaving for the night, but I’ll be back in the morning to check on her. Call me if . . . if you need anything.”
Katie nodded and picked up her mother’s hand. It felt so small and withered in hers. She could see every vein and bone through the almost translucent skin. It seemed impossible that these were the same hands that had lifted her up every time she’d fallen down. The same hands that lovingly placed bandages over every scrape and cut. The same hands that had cooked many meals and washed many dishes. They were the hands of her own personal angel sent to earth to be Katie’s mom.