Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2) (8 page)

E
llie knocked
on the trailer door later and told me they were shooting for the next six hours straight, so I just stayed inside and paced. When Lowell finally came in, her face was pale and drawn.

"Rough day at the office?" I asked, handing her a bottled water.

She nodded worriedly. "What about you? You sort of look… distressed."

I looked at myself in the small mirror on the wall. My hair was disheveled from running my hands through it, and my eyes were a little wild. I'd been replaying the conversation I'd had with my father over and over in my head.

She hired me, Dad. I'm working for her.

What the fuck does that mean?
he'd asked.
Are you her assistant? Who kisses her in public?

I'm her escort. Her hired date.

What the fuck does that mean?
he asked again, but that time, his voice was flat.

It means that when you cut me off, I had no money to eat or pay rent. So I went to work as a male escort. And Lowell Barton hired me.

He hadn't said too much after that. But I knew that he was thinking, and that was probably dangerous for me. And for Lowell.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'll tell you later. Did it go okay? The meeting?"

She shrugged.

"Are you done for the day?"

She nodded. She obviously wasn't in the mood to chat, which suited me just fine.

"Good," I said, grabbing her hand. "Let's go to the beach."

She surprised me by not pulling away. "Okay, that actually sounds good."

We left the studio and drove in silence back toward her house so we could change. I wasn't ready to tell her about my talk with my dad, and she didn't seem ready to talk about her meeting.

She slowed as we got near her neighborhood—about a dozen cars were parked in front of her house. Photographers, waiting for us. She sighed, and I turned to her.

"Just turn around," I said.

She drove away, frowning and lost in thought.

"There's a great beach in Santa Monica. Let's go there," I suggested, and she nodded. "What's the matter, Lo?"

She blew out a deep breath. "I just can't believe I did this to myself."

"Did you get fired? I was hoping everything was okay because you guys were filming."

"They didn't fire me," she said, then said nothing further.

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked.

"Is there a bar near this beach?"

I
n the end
, we bought beers and sat on the pier, drinking them out of paper bags.

"This is so… slummy," Lowell said before swigging her beer. "It's so slummy it's awesome."

I watched her face. "You don't relax much, do you?"

"All I do is work. For all the good it's done me." She stared at the water. "So… back to Lucas. He didn't fire me, but he said they'd talked about it. I'm basically on probation. I
have
to get in shape before the shoot. They pushed it back six weeks so I have enough time to starve myself." She read the calorie contents on the beer and groaned.

I shook my head. "That's ridiculous, Lo. Did they actually tell you to lose weight? 'Cause I thought that was illegal."

"They didn't say 'lose weight'—they said come back in six weeks and weigh less." She shrugged. "It is what it is. They also said that I need to make this"—she motioned between us—"work. They appreciated that I've publicly rebounded in less than twenty-four hours. They said you've gotten me amazing approval ratings—better than before my, er… incident. So I need to keep you around and make the most of the press momentum."

"So that's good," I said, grinning at her. "You keep getting paid; I keep getting paid."

"We can't let anyone find out about us." Worry creased her forehead. "If it gets out that we knew each other… that our parents were married… that you're my
escort
… I'm dead. Tori's the only one who can know. "

I swung my feet over the water, back and forth, nervous energy bubbling through me. "Tori's not the only one who knows."

She looked stricken. "Did you tell
Ellie
? 'Cause she's really sheltered. She probably really can't handle that—"

"I didn't tell Ellie," I said. "I told my father."

She looked stunned. "
What?
Why?"

"So he wouldn't blackmail you into firing me, Lo."

She looked at me, surprise and anger playing out on her face. "You told him the
truth
? We have an agreement. A
non-disclosure
agreement."

She shifted her weight as though she was about to stand up, but I put my hand on her. "Wait. Please." I held my breath until she'd sat back down. "He'd already seen the pictures. I didn't know it, but he's had his assistant keeping track of me."

She looked at me, waiting.

When I was pretty sure she wasn't going to run, I continued. "He called me this morning. He threatened to call the press, to tell them that you're dating your ex-stepbrother—
if
I didn't break up with you immediately."

"Would he do that? To you?"

"I think my father has gotten into the habit of trying to protect me from my own bad judgment." I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I had to explain to him why it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. It wouldn't look too good for his latest business venture and his upcoming feature in
Forbes
if the press found out that his son's an escort."

"He didn't know?"

I shook my head.

"What did he say?" she asked quietly.

"At first, he didn't say anything. I think he was in shock. But when he came to, he said that he was glad he'd disowned me, that he'd rather give his fortune to a pet shelter or a distant third cousin than to me."

"I'm so sorry, Kyle."

"Don't be. I'm a fucking
prostitute
, Lo. All the bad choices I've made have led to this."

"You lost all your money. You had no education. It's not like you had a lot of options," she said, trying to console me.

I snorted. "I was a drunk-driving party boy until my dad took my inheritance away. But you want to know how I ended up here? I was giving surfing lessons, and a woman I was teaching asked me out. She was older, and I wasn't interested, but I
was
hungry. So I let her buy me dinner. No big deal, right?" I stopped and stared at my hands, feeling sick.

"Are you okay?" Lowell asked.

"Not really. I slept with her afterward, because she seemed to expect it. And then she offered to buy me breakfast the next day. Are you getting the picture?"

She nodded.

"She asked me stay with her, so I did. For a weekend. That turned into a week. And then a month. I was like her little… pet. I ate her food and lived in her house and did what I was told. Because it was… easy."

"It doesn't sound easy," Lo said. She sounded as if she felt sorry for me.

"It was easy until I got so disgusted with myself that I couldn't stand it anymore. After I left and Elena asked me to come work for her, I didn't even hesitate. I knew it would be better than what I'd had with that woman. Cleaner. I have a contract with my clients. They pay me in exchange for my services. That's it. No one's pretending it's anything else."

"Just because you made bad choices doesn't make you a bad person." She patted my shoulder. "At least, I hope that's true—for my sake too."

"Thanks." I smiled at her. "But I made my own bed where my father's concerned. I lost his respect a long time ago, and I've only gone downhill from there."

"Well… I'm sorry about your father. And I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"S'okay."

"Did he say anything else?"

I sighed. "No. But I don't think he's done with this yet. He sounded like he was thinking about what options he had. Which is unfortunate, 'cause he's a brilliant guy. So if he's thinking about ways to sabotage us, he'll probably come up with one sooner rather than later. And it'll probably be pretty good."

"Great," Lowell said. "That's just great." She took a swig of her beer. "Speaking of great, my mother called today too. She threatened to cut her trip short to come back and 'help' me. I talked her out of it, but I'm worried she's gonna pop up."

"Great."

"You can say that again. And again," Lo mumbled.

O
nly a handful
of photographers were left at her house when we got back.

"Lindsay Lohan just got back in town," one of them explained, shrugging. "But we thought we'd wait for you guys."

I pushed thoughts of our parents aside and flashed him a megawatt smile. "You have excellent taste." I threw my arm around Lo and beamed. "I approve."

"How about that exclusive interview?" the other photographer asked.

"We'll make an announcement soon," Lo said. I looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged and mumbled, "I want to keep them on their toes."

We finally made it into the house, and I could tell Lo was tired.

"Do you
want
to do an exclusive interview?" I asked. I couldn't really picture her sitting down with Katie from
XYZ
and, er, spilling her guts
.
Again.

"I have to eventually. Gigi's apparently working on it. Lucas said he has to approve everything I say though. He wants a representative from the movie to be there."

I looked at her skeptically. "Don't you think you'll scowl during the interview?"

She scowled at me. "No."

"Don't you think they'll bait you? About mansplainers and all?"

She jutted out her chin. "I'm perfectly capable of handling the press, Kyle Richards.
Kyle Richards
who's only been in the spotlight for twenty-four hours."

"Okay," I said, not wanting to fight.

"Okay." It sounded as though she was forcing herself to drop it. "It's been a long day. I'm gonna take a shower. You want to watch TV afterward?" She almost sounded nervous, as if I might say no.

As if I would ever say no.

"Of course," I said. "Meet you on the couch in fifteen."

She came out in her sweats, with wet hair, and handed me a glass of wine. She sat on the couch, yawning. "I'm already bored. Nothing to do but starve."

"I refuse to let you starve. I know you don't want me to say it, but your body's perfect, Lo. Anyone who tells you otherwise should Photoshop themselves out of existence."

It looked as if her face was turning red, but I couldn't be sure.

"That's sweet," she said. "I just wish the rest of the world agreed with you."

"The rest of the world
does
agree with me—it's those freaking industry people who are insane. People love you because you're a great actress, and because you're funny and gorgeous."

She just looked at me, seeming confused. "That's... nice. I don't remember you being nice. You're kind of freaking me out."

"I can be nice," I said defensively. "I'm nice."

"You didn't use to be nice," she said.

I sighed and looked at her helplessly. "I already said I was sorry. And that I've grown up. Now let's just have some wine and relax for once."

She just looked at me. "Wine has too many empty calories."

"Fine. I'll drink wine and relax. You can sit there and scowl."

She scowled at me, and I rolled my eyes at her.

"Let's not worry about dieting right now—let's worry about the next couple of weeks. We should make plans," I said. "We should go to the gym together. Go to Jamba Juice. Hit a different hot spot every night. Work the reporters into a frenzy and make your agent and director happy."

"I'd actually love to just get out of here for a while. I haven't had this much time off in forever," Lo said wistfully. "Can we pretend to go on an exotic vacation?"

"Can we just
go
on an exotic vacation? My favorite beach is in Hawaii. I'd offer to take you, but... I'd need you to front me some cash." I smiled at her, humbled. I'd had all the money in the world for so long, I thought nothing of jetting off to Hawaii for a weekend. I used to do it all the time. But I never brought anyone—I always wanted a fresh island hookup.

I didn't think I realized how gross I was until lately, when
I
was the fresh hookup.

Lo sat up straighter. "We should totally go to Hawaii. The magazines always have pictures of the stars vacationing there. You can teach me to surf. Perfect photo op."

The idea of her standing on the board in front of me, my hands around her waist as I showed her how to get her balance, made my cock twitch.
Down, boy
. The days when I answered to it were over.

But I would really like to have my hands around her waist.

But more than that, I needed to be a responsible, competent professional. For once in my life.

"Hawaii is my favorite place in the world. Let's say if we turn this situation around and emerge victorious, we'll treat ourselves and go. When this is all over and you've paid me, so I don't have to borrow money from my hot Hollywood actress girlfriend," I said, winking at her. "But right now? I think we should stay here and work the press."

She nodded. "It's a deal. If we pull this off, I'm going to get back in Lucas's good graces. As long as your dad doesn't rat us out and the press doesn't find out anything."

"Crossing my fingers," I said. My father wasn't an easy man to evade, and the press was just as interested in us as we were hoping—which was both a blessing and a curse. "But do you promise? Hawaii? Someday?"

She smiled at me. "Sure. If we 'emerge victorious' like you said."

"We will."
We have to, if I'm gonna finally turn my life around and you're gonna stay in the game
. "Can I have some more wine? And will you please have some too?"

She grimaced. "I already ate dinner and had a beer. A
big
beer, remember? Do you know how many carbs that has?"

I sighed. "Do you think I give a fuck how many carbs it has? Do you need me to tell you how hot you are?"

"No," she said, that blush creeping up her cheeks again.

I grinned. "Are you sure? 'Cause I really don't mind."