Miss Congeniality (21 page)

“I was going next week anyway.” She and Lance had talked about it last night. They would finish filming Friday and afterward have a two-week break, so she was going to fly out and make sure everything was being handled correctly with her brother’s case. Then she and Lance were going to go spend a couple of days in Oklahoma to meet his family, which was a bit nerve-racking, but Lance continued to reassure her they would love her.

“I’m coming with you.” Lance had been planning to stay here to get some other work done and explore potential roles his agent had lined up for him to do during the summer months. She hated to think she dragged him into her family drama.

“You don’t have to come. This is my family’s mess, and you don’t need to be sucked into the drama.”

He put his finger on her lips to silence her. “Yes, I do. You’re mine, Brea. So if someone hurts you, even if it is your own brother, I’m going to be there to protect you. I don’t know the guy, but I do know, given the same circumstances, you would never have sold him out like that. You need to realize your brother has changed. He’s not the same guy, and I want to be there to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

The quip about her brother hurt, but how could she be mad at a guy who was only looking out for her best interest? She wanted to argue on sheer principle, but she knew that was futile. He had dug his heels in to go with her, and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to go home alone anyway.

“I could argue with you.”

“You could,” he agreed. “We could go round and around about what you think is best for you, or you can just go ahead and agree now and save us both some trouble.”

“You’re so damn bossy, Lance.”

“Not really. I don’t want you to go at all, but I refuse to go alpha male on you and start beating my chest to put you where I think it’s best for you. I say this is a nice compromise.”

“It is.” His talk of going alpha male was causing a tingling down her spine. “And I don’t want to talk about my brother anymore.”

“You don’t.” He played along, knowing exactly where this was going when she unbuckled his belt, freeing his cock.

“I never answered yes or no last time.” She slowly crawled down so her breath was over his dick, recalling when he asked if she would be willing to give him a blowjob.

“You didn’t.” He grabbed her hair, his hips jutting up when she continued to breathe on him.

“Well, if you couldn’t tell, the answer is yes.” She took him deeply, driving him to distraction. She was like an animal, and all he could do was enjoy the ride. They went two rounds and she would have pushed for more, but he finally had to call uncle on her insatiable appetite.

Classic deflection,
Lance thought later on when she was sleeping on his chest, but he refused to be mad about it, not when he was able to reap the rewards. But he was determined to watch her; her spacing out like she did this morning and using sex as an outlet were only short-term solutions to a long-term problem. And unfortunately, the long-term problem was her brother. He read the police report, had Derrick fax it over after they got through their awkward introductions and he explained he was going to be in her life for the long haul. Her brother had beaten the shit out of the guy; he was in a coma for a couple of days. Derrick seemed to think there was a good reason, and there better have been. Lance Holder was not about to see his woman walk into the lion’s den, not when the lion was capable of doing all kinds of crazy shit. But understanding what needed to be done and explaining it to Brea were two very different issues. She still saw the guy who protected her when they were young, and she would never believe that same guy might have turned into the same monster she always feared: her own mother.

“W
hat the hell, Brea?” Raquel waited until they were seated with food on the table before she laid into her. Brea had invited Raquel and Clare over for dinner —a decision she was now second-guessing —to clear the air and tell them what had been going on. She had warded off Raquel yesterday, explaining she only wanted to tell the story once, and Raquel had clearly waited long enough.

“I’m sorry.” Brea read the hurt in both their eyes and knew her decision to keep quiet deeply troubled them.

“How long?” Clare asked quietly, always one to hold judgment until she heard the full story.

“A while. That night I got really drunk and Lance and I hooked up for the second time was the night I found out. Lance basically sat on me until I told him what was wrong, so it all came out in a jumbled mess.”

“You should have told us.” Raquel began to fix her plate, probably so she didn’t have to look at Brea.

“I know,” she answered miserably. “I was so embarrassed. I know I wasn’t the one to hurt the guy, but what the hell was my brother thinking? He beat the man until he was bloody and stopped only when someone physically restrained him. And now he may spend the next ten years in jail!” She crumpled the napkin she was holding, wishing it were her brother’s neck, because right now she hated him. As much as she loved him, she had to clean up one of his messes, not knowing if he even wanted her help. But she refused to let her brother get lost to the prison system. She would die if he went away, the very thought making her want to vomit.

“What does his lawyer say?” Raquel flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“He says my brother’s not talking to him, won’t tell him why he went ape-shit on the guy. My brother is not a violent person. Lord knows, he had the opportunity to beat the shit out of Mom’s men plenty of times and he never did, so part of it doesn’t make sense.”

“You do know he was high, right? That can make people act crazy,” Clare told her gently, as though trying to soothe a spooked animal.

“That’s what Lance says, but my brother isn’t normally like that. Or, at least he wasn’t before.”

“So, what are you going to do, and what do you need us to do?” That was Raquel, straight to the point; and she’d never let Brea down, even if it could potentially cost her what little respect people had for her.

“I don’t know why I kept this from you guys.”

“Well, shit’s done. Only thing we can do now is fix it.” Raquel stated matter-of-factly.

“At this point, I don’t really need anything, other than support from you guys. I hired a lawyer who told me he thinks he can get the case pled out to where my brother will serve minimal jail time, and I’m going to see him next week when we are on hiatus.”

Clare put her hand on Brea’s arm in comfort. “Do you need us to go with you?”

“No, Lance said he is going with me.”

Raquel’s eyebrows arched at the news. “Oh, he did?”

“Yes. And my relationship is closed.”

“Come on,” Clare whined, “you’re the only one getting any.”

“What happened to Jason?” Raquel asked.

“He was quickly morphing into a stalker. The other day, he drove by my house when I wouldn’t answer my phone.”

“I hate it when people just show up,” Raquel complained.

“I wasn’t there when he drove by, but later on he called me and asked where I was, saying he didn’t see my car. After that, I realized I had to cut the cord.” She sliced her hand across her throat to mimic someone’s head being chopped off.

Raquel rubbed her hands together. “Ohh, how did he take it?”

“He cried. It was bad. The neighbor finally told him to get off the lawn. But at least he’s gone.”

“Is he going to turn into some male version of Glenn Close in
Fatal Attraction
?”

Clare shuddered. “I hope not, Raquel. But if he does, I’m calling you.”

“Why me?”

“’Cause you’re a bad bitch.”

Raquel sat back in her chair. “You scared of me?”

“A little,” Clare admitted sheepishly.

“Good.” Raquel nodded before turning back to her food.

To say the next couple of days were grueling would be an understatement. For one thing, the media refused to let up, with steady barrages of people camped out in front of her house. Brea had decided to hire a driver just to get in and out of her home or she stayed with someone else, mainly Lance. And Lance was a different issue altogether. She didn’t know when he became her protector, but she could barely go to the bathroom without him being right beside her. He had been very patient with the photographers, but when one tried to get in his face, he shoved the camera out of the way and had to deal with a potential assault charge. Just one more item to add to the ‘How is Brea’s life getting screwed’ list. On top of all that, the producers had called an emergency meeting to try to stem the bad press. They said in no uncertain terms their leading actors and actresses needed to get their shit together. It all came back to ratings. They were concerned the program wouldn’t receive the top spot, which meant less money, and they could give two shits about what was going on in the cast’s personal lives as long as
Maggie Beach
stayed on top.

She received one bit of good news on Wednesday. Raquel was not in any legal trouble dealing with the ‘bitch fight,’ as their coworkers called it. Ginger was clearly in the wrong, as well, and her lawyer advised her not to pursue a criminal case. That was good for Raquel, but Lance and Brea were still dealing with their own shit.

“Are you doing something?” Brea looked up from the couch at Lance’s question; she had been lost in thought, pondering everything which had happened recently.

“No, thinking.” She was worried and woman enough to admit it to Lance when they were lying in bed. He was sympathetic and helpful, but nothing stopped the doubts which crept in during the early morning hours when she couldn’t sleep. The look on his face said he wasn’t fooled; he knew she was worried about everything.

“You wanna take a ride with me? Maybe grab some dinner?”

“Right now?” Indecision flashed on her face, not wanting to leave the safety of his home.

“Yes, right now. I won’t take no for an answer.” He waited for her at the front door while she changed into clothing more appropriate for dinner. Ignoring the people who were camped out on his street, all she focused on was the way the wind whipped her hair back and forth while they rode with the windows down. It was freeing, and she cleared her mind of everything in it. He stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall American place where they gorged on cheeseburgers and fries, talking about anything and everything. She greedily took those stolen moments before the world would intrude again.

“I hate to discuss this, but are you ready for tomorrow?” Their flight was scheduled for seven in the morning; Brea was eager to get to her brother to see how he was doing.

“I’m packed, if that’s what you mean. I can’t attest to the other stuff, but at least I’ll have a better idea of where his head is after I talk to him.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go inside with you?” They had argued for the past two days about whether Lance should go with her when she first went to talk with him. She didn’t want him to go on the off-chance her brother had become crazy as hell, but he insisted she not go alone. She rarely won arguments, but this one she did because he sensed she wouldn’t give in. Her need to see her brother overrode his need to maintain control of the situation. Besides, there were some things neither of them would ever be able to control. What happened with the justice system was one such instance.

“I’m positive. Derrick told him I was coming when he saw him yesterday, and I’m scared of his reaction if I bring another person.”

“All the more reason you shouldn’t go alone,” he reiterated for about the thirtieth time.

“My brother’s not going to hurt me.”

“So you say. But let’s be frank here, you haven’t seen the guy in over six months, and during that time Alex has developed a nasty drug habit. You don’t know what he’s going to do.” He pointed his fry at her to emphasize his argument.

“Can we not talk about this? I really don’t want to fight with you.”

His eyes softened at the hurt he saw reflected in her eyes. “I don’t want to fight with you either. I want to protect you, but you make it damn hard to do.”

“I don’t need a white knight; I’ve been saving myself for years.” He hooked two fingers in her shirt, pulling her to him for a kiss.