Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2)
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"I can say it.
Married.
I'm worried we can't ever really get… married. And I'm not even sure that's what this is." I held up the ring again, as if it were evidence of some plot to cruelly confuse and embarrass me.

"Let me try this again. Because apparently I didn't do a very good job." He traced my jawline with his thumb, making me shiver. "I asked you to marry me because I love you. I did it in that obnoxious manner because we needed a headline to trump our fight. Your premiere's coming up fast. You don't need any more trouble. You need to be on top." At that, he laid back and pulled me on top of him.

I relished the feel of him beneath me, his strong, muscled body fulfilling every wild dream I'd had about him. But this was serious, so I slid off him. "I'd love to be on top. Hell, I'd love to stay on top forever, but we need to figure this out."

He sat up again, undeterred. "You said yes, right?"

I nodded.

"Did you mean it?" he asked.

"What exactly did I say yes to?" I noticed that my heart was hammering.

"You said yes, in front of the press, to marrying me, which means they think we're engaged. You said yes when I asked you to marry me… which means
I
think we're engaged." He was quiet for a heavy beat. "And that means, to me, that we're committed to each other. Exclusively. Forever."

I held my breath and felt my eyes well up with stupid, inconvenient tears.

"And for me, forever starts right now," he continued. "But we can wait to get married for as long as you want. 'Cause I agree, six weeks is soon. Not too soon, but soon. I want to do this right. I want to give our marriage every chance to be successful. I'm only ready when you're ready." He stroked my back. "And I want to buy you a different ring. I've been thinking about this for a while, Lo. Like I'm a
girl
or something. I totally have a picture in my mind of what I want to get you." He looked stupefied by his own thoughts.

That was so adorable, I almost died. "That's really nice."

"I know, right? But listen—I know what I want. I know what
this
"—he pointed at the ring—"means to
me
. And if we went to Vegas tomorrow to elope, I wouldn't even hesitate." He watched my face. "But that's me. What about you? What did
you
say yes to?"

A tear slid down my cheek. I couldn't help it. I couldn't believe that he loved me like I loved him.

"So?" His jaw clenched at my silence and crying. "Are we engaged or aren't we?"

I wiped my face and looked at him. Tension rolled off him as his eyes searched my face.

"Of course we are, you big lug." I threw myself into his chest again. He wrapped his powerful arms around me, and I let myself cry against him. "Like I could ever be away from you again. Y'all is family."

"I'm not a plural, babe. Even though I totally understand you wishing I was." I heard the grin and dimples in his voice.

"I'll teach you one of these days—y'all can absolutely be used in the singular."

He kissed me, our lips coming together delicately at first, then changing into something deeper, more urgent. Kyle pulled back. "I'm gonna teach
you
a few things, young lady. Now that you've agreed to be mine, I can afford to take my time."

He ran his hands down me, and I giggled a little breathlessly. "That sounds exciting and bad all at the same time."

"It's both, babe—and it's bad in a very, very good way," he said, his massive form looming over me. "You better get used to it."

He kissed my neck, and I took a deep breath.
I could get used to this. Very, very used to this.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I didn't want him to stop, but I couldn't stop asking questions.

He sighed and leaned up. "We're still talking, aren't we?" He sounded humorously resigned.

"I can't help myself." I smiled at him, feeling guilty for stopping him again. But I had to know that this was real, and I needed to feel all the corners of the situation out. "How's this gonna work? You're going to go back to Boston, and I'm going to stay here, or go on location, and we'll see each other… when, exactly?"

Kyle sighed and rolled off me. "You're really trying to keep me outta there, aren't you?" I must've looked stressed because he smiled indulgently and patted my hand. "We'll make it work, babe. I can fly out here on weekends, or we can take turns. When you go on location, I'll take vacation days to see you. We can Skype." He tucked my hair behind my ear. "People do it all the time. We can do it too."

"And what about… our parents? For real? They're going to freak. You know that, right? We were joking about it before, but it's not funny."

Kyle shook his head. "We're just going to tell them the truth. And they're just gonna have to live with it."

"But people are going to find out about us eventually." I swallowed hard. "At some point, the press will discover your real name. They'll figure out who your father is and that our parents were married. It's gonna happen. It's just a matter of time." I looked over at our phones, which hadn't stopped beeping with texts and media alerts. "What happens then?"

He pulled me against him. "I don't know. I only know that what we have is the most important thing to me. Everything else will just have to work itself out."

I looked at him, knowing in my heart that he was right. "I love you, Kyle." Saying it felt so good. "That's what matters to me now."

He grinned. "I love you too, babe. Everything else will be okay. Trust me."

Kyle

T
rust me
.
Of all the bright ideas I'd had, maybe that had been the worst one yet.

I read the latest text message on my phone and groaned inwardly, then I looked over at Lowell. I loved watching her sleep. I loved it as much as I loved watching the 49ers, and that was saying something.

I turned back to the message. Lowell was gonna freak, and it was all my fault.

I shouldn't have come out here. It was selfish.
But I shoved that idea from my head. It was probably true, but it was also true that Lowell and I loved each other. We'd agreed that our relationship was more important than everything else.

I really hoped she still felt that way once she'd had a chance to think about it some more. And once I told her what was coming. I sighed and gently nudged her awake.

She opened one eye and squinted at me adorably, a huge smile spreading over her face. "Well, hello,
fiancé
."

My heart leapt. Then I remembered the text, and my stomach dropped.

"Hello fiancée, yourself." I swallowed hard. "There've been some… uh, developments while you slept."

She sat up and opened both eyes. "What?"

I held up my phone. "Katie from
XYZ
texted me. She said she had some new information and wanted to verify it before she went to press."

"Since when does she ever verify anything?" Lowell asked skeptically.

"Exactly. Never. So this has gotta be a big deal."

"It can't be good."

"Nope, it definitely can't be good." I rolled out of bed and threw on some clothes.

Just then, Lowell's phone rang. She looked at it suspiciously before picking up. "Hello, Tor." She held the phone away from her ear as Tori screamed a few things. When she'd subsided, a grinning Lowell brought the phone back to her face. "I know, right? He totally surprised me! And yes, it's a real engagement. To be followed by a real wedding. When we're ready." She listened to Tori babble. "No, you can't start planning.
No
, we're not ready to book a venue. We just got engaged two hours ago!" Her brow wrinkled as she listened to her friend. "Listen, if you want to live to be my maid of honor, you'd better relax."

I heard more squealing through the phone, and I decided it was a good time to grab a snack. I was searching through the refrigerator for the organic peanut butter, when I heard a knock at the door.
Uh oh.
Lowell was still in the bedroom, so I went to the door and looked through the side glass panel. It was Katie from
XYZ
, looking smugger than usual, and who I assumed was her assistant.

I cracked the door open and peered through. "I got your text about two seconds ago. Do you mind giving my fiancée and me a minute to talk it through?"

She looked at her watch. "You have about one minute." She was antsy, tapping her foot and fidgeting. "I need to publish this before anyone else does."

"Stay right there," I said, not trusting her enough to leave her alone for more than a second.

I ran back to Lo and stuck my head through the bedroom door. Lowell was on her back, chatting and smiling like a normal newly engaged person. Which she was not.

"Hey," I said, interrupting her, "Barracuda Lady's at the front door. She doesn't seem like she has a lot of patience."

Lowell rolled her eyes and hung up with Tori, promising to call her later for more dissection of the happy news. "She didn't give us much time."

"She's antsy, tapping her foot on your front step."

"Great," Lo said, getting up. She looked down at herself in a rumpled T-shirt. Then she peered in the mirror at her hair, which was mussed and wild. "I totally look like I've been having sex all afternoon."

"That's because you have." I grinned, ridiculously proud.

She sighed and grabbed some clothes. "Let her in while I take a quick shower. But don't let her past the living room! I don't trust her!"

"What do you want me to tell her?" I asked.

"Nothing. Not yet."

"
Y
ou can come in
," I told Katie the Barracuda. "But give your cell phone and any other electronic devices to your assistant. Nothing's coming in here."

"Picky, picky." She tsked, but she did as I asked.

"I have to be," I said, letting her in. "You can't trust anybody nowadays."

"You can say that again." She looked greedily around Lowell's house, her eyes drinking in every square inch. "This is lovely and perfect. Much like Lowell Barton herself."

"I agree," I said, although I didn't care for Katie's snide tone.
She's just jealous.
I was sure that was true, but it didn't make her any less dangerous. "Have a seat. I'd offer you something to drink, but I'm not leaving you unattended."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You were a lot friendlier when you first showed up."

"I had to learn the hard way."

We looked at each other for a beat, with fake smiles, until she broke the silence. "I have information about you, Kyle. I wanted to give you the courtesy of telling you first."

"That's so thoughtful of you," Lowell said, sailing in from the kitchen, wearing clean clothes, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She carried three lemonades on a tray.

"Lemonade." Katie rolled her eyes at the tray. "You really are something, you know that?"

Lowell handed her a drink and sat across from her. "Yes, I know that." Lowell flashed her a megawatt smile. "Now, what can we do for you? I'm assuming you're not here just to offer your congratulations—thank you anyway. I did, however, overhear you telling Kyle that you have information about him. How fascinating. I just can't imagine what that might be." Lowell linked her hands through mine and squeezed, the only indication that she was on edge.

Katie set down her drink without taking a sip. "I'm pretty sure that you know, but I appreciate the little flourishes of your performance. Tell me, how's it going to be to kiss all of that good-bye? Because I happen to know for a fact that Lucas Dresden won't appreciate the story that's going to break about you two later this afternoon." She motioned toward the ring on Lowell's finger. "That was a nice try, though."

Lowell held up the ring. "It's not a try, Katie. It's an engagement ring. Because we're engaged."

The reporter raised her eyebrows. "I don't believe you."

"Why's that?" I asked, but the pit in my stomach told me I already knew.

"I knew there was something off between you two. It was too cute and too convenient. So I did a little digging," she said, licking her lips. "And I found out that you're related. So that's why I don't believe you're engaged—the last time I checked, in the state of California at least, siblings can't get married."

"We're not siblings." I waited to see what she'd say next.

"According to my source, your parents were married. You lived in the same house during your adolescence, raised as siblings."

"That's bullshit." I'd been able to tolerate her thus far, but she was making my blood boil. So this was going to turn into a shit show, after all. I started to say something more, but Lowell clutched my hand.

"What you're saying isn't true," Lo said. "I would say that if you care about your credentials as a journalist, you won't go forward with that story. But since I know you couldn't give a flying fuck about journalistic integrity, I'll just save my breath." Lowell stood. "You can go now. Do what you like."

Lowell marched her to the door. Katie looked a little flustered, as if this wasn't what she was expecting.

"We can cut a deal," she offered Lowell at the threshold. "I'm the only one who knows. For now."

Lowell leaned toward Katie's ear. "Go fuck yourself. Deal?" Lowell slammed the door behind her then pressed herself against it, her chest heaving. She was quiet for a minute. Then she said, "We're so fucked."

I nodded, feeling guilty as hell. She seemed to pull herself together a little. She stood, a faraway look on her face as if she was lost in her thoughts.

"What's the name of your favorite reporter out there?" she asked.

"Jose."

Lowell opened the door. "Go get him. And tell him he's gonna need a camera crew."

Lowell

K
yle was taking
care of the arrangements for our interview, which would take place first thing in the morning. In the interim, I had to make the call I'd been dreading since Kyle came back into my life.

My mother. Always my mother.

I decided to call Pierce first. Kyle and I had already talked about it and decided on what to say to each of them. Dealing with his father's anger would be like baby-stepping toward dealing with my mother's.

"Lowell," he answered before it even rang. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. When Kyle asked for a credit card, I assumed it was for a plane ticket, not an engagement ring."

I swallowed hard. "That's not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, Pierce."

He sighed. "You know that it's not personal. But the timing for all this couldn't be worse for me. Now that it's an engagement, your story's going to turn into even more of a media circus."

"I know," I said quickly. "But Kyle did it to protect me."

"I know. And I see how much he cares for you. But his being in the public eye like this, one week before my launch, is too risky for me. I've already told you both that."

"I know, but… he puts me first. Even when I tell him not to." I lovingly fingered my placeholder engagement ring. Now that I knew what it felt like to have someone fight for me, I understood it wasn't something I would give up easily. Still, I felt bad for Pierce. "I didn't want him to come out here honestly. I wanted him to stay in Cambridge. And stay away from me."

"So why'd you say yes?" That was Pierce for you. Always cutting to the chase.

But I felt that even though I'd made a mess out of Kyle's new life—the life he might not have now, if the launch went sour—I'd done the right thing. "Because I love him. And I want to marry him. I want that more than I want your app to be successful. More than I want my mom to be happy. And more than I want my acting career, I guess."

"What do you mean? I thought this would be your crowning moment in social media."

I shook my head. "No, sir." Taking a deep breath, I prepared for the worst. "A reporter told us about an hour ago that she's found out about our past." I steeled myself for his reaction, but all I heard was silence. "Pierce? Are you still there?"

"I'm here," he said. "I was just inwardly cursing."

"Well, Kyle and I are going to handle it. I promise."

"How the fuck do you plan on 'handling' it? It's a disaster is what it is. Put on a hazmat suit. That's about as much as you can do before a shit storm." He hung up on me.

I didn't really feel any better after those baby steps. I still had to call my mother though. I looked at myself in the mirror.
Big girl panties, Lowell. Come on.
I groaned and hit her number.

"Well, well, well," she said before the phone even had a chance to ring. "I knew you would ruin everything. You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady." She took a deep breath, winding up. "You're
engaged?
To your
stepbrother?
Who's been
disinherited?
Would it really be so difficult for you to just date a hot actor with a house in the Hills? Like a
normal
person?"

"You can't help who you fall in love with, Mom."

"Oh, cut the crap. Of course you can. Do you think it was
fate
I fell in love with four millionaires after your father left me penniless and with a baby? Do you think my
heart
told me to do that? No, young lady. Those were decisions based on rational thought. I needed someone to take care of us, so I found someone to take care of us. Several someones. And my heart didn't have any say in the matter. Have you met Pierce Richards? The man is ugly. He's a hairy
beast
. The man has more hair on his chest than he ever had on his head. He even has hair on his
ass
, Lowell. Like fur. But I married him anyway. Because it was the right thing to do for our future. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Not really," I answered weakly. "Which is pretty normal."

Caroline sighed. "It's time to grow up, young lady. Part of what you find out when you're an adult is that fairytales don't happen to those of us who live in the real world. You don't love Kyle. You just want him to put his dick inside you because he's a bad boy and because it's taboo. I know you. This is a
phase.
You'll grow out of it as soon as you two stop having sex all the time, then you'll realize what this is—lust. And maybe a late-stage temper tantrum."

"Please don't ever talk about Kyle's dick again." My voice was flat. "This is not about sex, Mother. I know you can't understand what being in love means. You don't love anybody except for yourself."

"That's not true," she said, and I almost felt her seething through the phone. "I love
you
. I loved your father—before he knocked me up and took off. I just don't let my emotions rule me. That's called being
practical
. That's called being a
grown-up
."

I paused for a second. "I'm sorry you're disappointed. I'm sorry I'm disappointing you."

"Then don't disappoint me, dear," she snapped. "You're the only one who never has. Don't start now."

I shook my head, tears welling up. "I don't want to be like you." The tears ran down my face. "I don't want to end up like you."

"Like what?" She snorted. "Thin, rich, and fashionable? There are far worse things, let me tell you."

"I don't want to be bitter. A bitter
cougar.
Aren't you lonely, Mom? Aren't you tired? Don't you want to be with someone who cares about you?"

She groaned. "Before you went and messed things up, I thought that Pierce was interested in me again."

But you don't love him. You just want to go shopping again. And plan dinners at all the right places. That's all you want. You don't care about anybody.

Not even me.

Not even me.

"Good luck with that, Mother." I willed my tears away. "And you might want to pour yourself a drink before you watch the Entertainment
channel this week. Make it a stiff one."

"What on earth does that mean?" she shrieked. "I'm coming out there to put a stop to this. You're the one who needs something stiff! A stiff dose of reality! You've lost it."

But I knew, I just knew, I'd only just found it. "Speaking of stiff, Kyle
does
have a nice dick. And I
do
enjoy it. And he
is
a bad boy." I heard her inhale sharply, and I almost relished making her upset. "But do you know the best thing about him? Do you?" I realized I was yelling at her and my whole body was shaking. "It's that he
loves
me, Mom. And I can trust him."

"I can't believe my own daughter is so naive that she's—"

"I feel sorry for you," I interrupted. "Because you will never, ever know what love like that feels like. But I hope your new barre class is great. And your new ten-thousand-dollar bucket bag. Good luck with keeping your face up. It's turning into a regular full-time job, whether you want one or not."

"I cannot believe this is you, Lowell. You're going to pay for this. I am going to make you
pay,
" she screeched.

But it was as if someone had dropped a house on her and she'd lost all her power over me. Suddenly, I didn't care if she went on screeching till her next facelift. I just shook my head. "I've already paid, Mother. So I guess this is good-bye."

I hung up, looking in my own eyes in the mirror for signs of despair. None came.

As if it were a new wrinkle, I took that as a visible sign of growing up.

T
he interview was booked
for first thing in the morning. I had no idea what Katie would do between now and then, but I figured it couldn't be good. It was time to come clean. I invited Tori, Shirley, and Gigi over, and I made them pack their bags to stay the night. We needed to close ranks. After they arrived, they all fussed and cooed over Kyle, as if he were the conquering hero of my Hollywood image empire, which I suppose he was.

With a pit fully formed in my stomach, I called Lucas. "I've got good news, and I've got bad news."

"I always like to hear my good news first," he said. "Go."

"I'm engaged. Yay."

"I already saw that. That's fine news. Much better than the fight you two had up in Boston. Nicely done." He waited for a minute while I paced. "Is that it for the good news?"

"Um… it depends on how you define
good
, I guess."

I could almost hear him looking at his watch. "You know I don't have time for guessing games. Go."

"Kyle and I are doing an exclusive interview with the Entertainment network first thing in the morning."

"Did you clear that with your agent? I'm sending our PR person over. She needs to be on set—I already told you that. She'll have to vet the interview."

"Great," I said tightly. "That's great."

"So what's the bad news? Go," he commanded.

"I haven't lost a pound. But I've been working out, and I think I look pretty good."

"She looks great," Kyle called from the other side of the room. He, Tori, and Gigi were researching wedding venues and honeymoon destinations, in spite of my protests. "If you give her a hard time, I'm coming down to the set tomorrow to break your face."

I made a shushing motion at Kyle, but I was secretly thrilled by his threat. It was just so
mas
macho.

Lucas just ignored him. "Per our contract, you have to be in shape enough for our shoot."

"Per our contract, I'm in shape enough. I'm in
better
shape. I'm just not skinny."

Shirley came over. "Give me that phone."

I handed it to her and watched her stalk around my kitchen.

"Real body types are in, Lucas. Your movie sucks, but Lowell's body just might save it. You might get numbers if people think she's representing a new Hollywood standard in beauty." She listened to him and rolled her eyes. "No, I don't think your movie should be a clinical trial. That's not what I'm saying."

He must have yelled at her because she closed her eyes and braced herself against the phone.

"Say what you want. I've been in this business a long time, and I know what I'm talking about. You can thank me when it does well." She hung up and handed the phone back to me. "That guy's a real asshole."

"I told you," I complained.

"He's a successful asshole, though. You still need this part." She wagged a red, gel-manicured fingertip at me.

"I know. I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep it, though." I looked nervously at Kyle. Now that I'd sort of dealt with Lucas, it was time to deal with my inner circle. We hadn't told anyone about us yet. Tori was the only person outside of our parents and Katie who knew about our past.

Shirley rarely, if ever, missed a trick. "What does that mean?"

I swallowed nervously. "It just means that Kyle and I are going to answer every question at the interview tomorrow."

"I would expect that. So what's the problem?" Shirley looked at my face, which was clearly guilty, and raised her eyebrows. Then she looked at Tori, who was looking down, picking imaginary lint off her blouse. She turned to Kyle, who was inspecting his nails. Gigi just shrugged at her, mystified, so Shirley turned back to me. "Out with it. Right now, please. I'm not getting any younger."

"Kyle and I… have known each other for longer than you think." I shot him a quick look and saw the smile spreading on his face. "We… knew each other when we were younger."

"Go on." Shirley crossed her arms. "'Cause I know that's not the whole story."

"We grew up together. For part of the time, anyway."

"My father was married to her mother," Kyle said. He put some crushed ice into a tumbler and poured vodka in it, squeezed in a lime, and handed it to Shirley.

Shirley frowned and took a large swig of her drink.

"They were married for four years. Lowell and I were stepsiblings from the time she was ten until she was fourteen and I was seventeen, when they got divorced. That was the last time I saw her. Before this."

"So…" Shirley looked as if her mind was racing a mile a minute. She didn't look upset anymore, more like she was plotting and scheming—her normal look. "Did you two have feelings for each other back then? Did you ever do anything?"

"No," we said in unison, horrified.

"He was really mean back then," I offered.

"She was sort of a dork," he explained.

"Okay, okay. We can work with this," Gigi piped up, her blond ponytail swinging excitedly. "You two didn't like each other back then, but you met years later and felt an instant spark." She sounded as if she was giving a movie pitch to an executive.

"Umm… no," Kyle said, shaking his head. "I mean, I obviously thought she was hot when I saw her again, but we didn't exactly… get along." He looked at me and smiled. "She totally wanted me though. I could tell."

I snorted. "As
if
."

Shirley looked confused. She elbowed Tori, who was still busy picking imaginary lint off her shirt. "I thought you said you set them up and they hit it off instantly."

Tori pressed her lips together, pretending to think. "Is that what I said? I really don't remember." Shirley towered over her, and Tori winced. "Okay, okay… I might have made some stuff up."

"Which stuff?" Shirley asked.

"All the stuff?" Tori asked, even though it wasn't a question.

"Tori didn't set us up," I interjected. "I'm the one who called Kyle. Actually, I called Kyle's… pimp."

"Pimp?" Shirley asked, aghast. She drained the rest of her drink and shoved the tumbler back into Kyle's chest. "Does that mean you're a—"

"Escort," Kyle said smoothly. He poured her another vodka. "I'm an escort. Well, I was anyway, until I accepted a new position with my father's company."

"You're a hooker." Shirley couldn't hide her shock.

"I'm retired now." He gently handed her the drink. "You should probably sit down. You look a little pasty."

Shirley sat down obediently and drank some more. Gigi watched us all with avid interest. Tori twirled her hair, trying to look innocent. I just paced, knowing that I was anything but.

BOOK: Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2)
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