Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  Now I kiss her. Taking my time, I lean closer, giving her ample warning that I’m coming in. Taking her by the arms, her hands hold me tentatively, but she stays. I kiss her cheek slowly, appreciatively, wishing it were her lips. I take a deep breath and press my cheek to hers. With my eyes closed it’s as if we were never apart, as if we didn’t let ten years escape us. This is what I’ve been missing. Reese. My Reese.

  Soon. Not now, but right then I make her a silent promise to kiss her mouth the way she deserves to be kissed. Reverently. By how her hands are squeezing me she makes me a promise in return that it’s not out of the realm for her to reciprocate. Even when my lips leave her skin, she remains there with her eyes closed. I stare at her, amazed by her beauty. When her eyes open, her hands slowly return her sides and that just feels wrong.

  A shrill of excitement from behind me makes me jump. “Model Danny is here!”

  Vittori is coming down the stairs in all his fervor. Decked out in purple from head to toe, I’m sure West Texas has never seen the likes of him. On second thought, this place is an art community so maybe they have.

  Hurrying toward me, I’m not sure if he’s coming in for a hug or a handshake. I prepare for either.

  Hug, it is.

  He’s lucky I like him. Not like that, dirty bird.

  Reese is too busy to help a fella out. I pat his back before putting a foot or two between us. “Good to see you.”

  “Is this place not divine in the most unaffected way? I love its non-New York City vibe.”

  “It definitely is nothing like Manhattan. When did you arrive?”

  Reese says, “We got in around lunch. Enough time to settle in and refresh.” She looks at my suitcase. “They don’t have a bellhop. And no elevator.”

  Vittori adds, “No room service or spa either.”

  “That’s okay. I can carry my suitcase and I guess we can rough it together,” I reply sarcastically with a chuckle.

  Reese holds a brass key for me. “You’re in room 223. The James Dean room. I thought it was fitting.”

  “More than you know.” I take the key and try the same look from the Vargo shoot on her, but she doesn’t react so I stop, which is probably for the best. “We have dinner reservations at six. Is that too soon? We’re starving, so we thought we’d eat early, then go explore.”

  “That works for me.”

  “Claudia is upstairs sleeping. She might join us. She’s undecided.”

  Another woman that will only pale in comparison to the woman standing in front of me.

  Reese says, “She says you know each other?” She poses the statement as a question and I briefly wonder if that’s jealousy I hear in her voice.

  “We’ve met a few times.”

  “Oh.” Her tone falls as if she wants to ask more, but doesn’t.

  Vittori’s phone rings and he takes it outside, leaving us alone. I look at Reese. “Guess I should take this upstairs.”

  “Yeah. Good idea.” She’s all business, the mention of Claudia, souring her. “If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall from you in room 233 and you have my cell, so feel free to use it.”

  “Okay.” I swallow harder than I want. There’s no way she didn’t notice. I just lay it out to ease her mind. I want the Reese I had before business Reese showed up. “I never slept with her. I’ve truly only met her at parties. Nothing more.”

  Her hands go up. “Oh, no. No. You don’t have to explain anything to me. That’s your business, Danny.”

  Taking her flailing hands, I still them between us. “I want to explain. I want you to know my business, Reese.”

  When the tension leaves her and her fingers curl around mine, she lowers her voice and says, “I shouldn’t want to know.”

  “I feel the same way about you.”

  She takes a step back, stepping away from the cliff that’s between us before she falls… before either of us falls. “I can’t,” she says, her voice shaking, “please. I can’t. Not again. My heart can’t handle it.” She walks away, heading for the stairs.

  “Reese?”

  She stops, keeping her back to me. With her hand reaching for the wall, bracing herself, her voice is barely heard when she answers, “Yes?”

  The desk attendant is watching me as I make a heartfelt plea to the one woman who severed it ten years earlier. “I missed you.” I loved you.

  She remains silent and I’m tempted to go to her, but I resist, knowing she needs the time to herself. “Me too,” she replies glancing back, and then continuing up the stairs, disappearing. I’m left with a suitcase at my feet and an audience.

  With the awkwardness swarming the lobby, the attendant looks down, suddenly busy with the registry log in front of her. I squeeze the keychain in my hand and grab my suitcase. “Room 223?”

  “Up the stairs, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  My room is at the top of the stairs and around the railing. There’s about an inch gap at the bottom and light peeks out from inside the room. I unlock the door and take my luggage inside. The hotel is old and the doors seem antique like the furniture. The door stays open until I close it. There are no automatic close or locks here. I sit on the bed and then lie back with my arms under my head. Staring at the ceiling, the day starts sinking in and my body relaxes on the mattress.

  A light knock on the door breaks the silence. “Come in.”

  Vittori walks in and shuts the door as if we’re breaking some imaginary rules. I sit up. He walks with purpose to the balcony. Opening the door, he slips out, inspects the view, then looks back in. “James Dean had a bad view.”

  “Doubt it was the same view back then.”

  “True.” He flops onto his stomach at the bottom of the bed.

  I sit up, putting my back against the pillows propped against the headboard. I’m not sure if I need to remind him he’s not my type or if he’s always this playful with people he barely knows. “Whoa there, big guy.”

  He rolls onto his back dramatically. “Why are you and Reese fighting this so much?”

  “Fighting what?” I ask, curious to what he knows.

  His hands are in the air, waving around. “There was so much sexual tension in that lobby I almost put on a condom so I didn’t get knocked up.”

  “That’s not exactly how condoms work.”

  He flips onto his stomach and props his chin on his hands. “Pfft. You know what I mean, Model Danny.”

  “I know every major fashion house designer and I have to say, you are one of a kind, Designer Vittori.”

  Amusement sparks in his eyes. “Call me, Vinnie. My friends do, and Model Danny, I’ve decided we’re friends.”

  “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

  “Because Reese likes you, and if she likes someone, I know I will.”

  “Doesn’t seem like she does.”

  “She just feels too much.”

  “Too much?”

  “Too much for you. I see how she looks at you, but she doesn’t know what to do with all those emotions. I thought about making her a purse for them, so they’d be easier to carry around.”

  I smile because this man is nuts, but his heart is in the right place. “And what changed your mind?”

  “I decided it was better for her to deal with them, with you, instead of hiding them away, even in a designer, custom-made bag.”

  “Should you be telling me this?” I chuckle that I’ve found an ally in the form a purple-loving fashion designer. “Don’t get me wrong. I like having this insider’s perspective, but would she want you sharing her secrets?”

  He stands as if he can’t sit still any longer, his zeal is too powerful to contain. “She’s fearless and creative, intelligent, and has great titties. But she’s also guarded to the point of closing herself off.”

  “Okay, slow up here. You’ve seen her tits?”

  He waves me off. “Of course. Half of New York has, but that’s beside the point.”

  “How can that be b
eside the point? That seems like the main point in this discussion,” I say, bothered by the direction this chat has taken. Half of New York? What the fuck?

  “Model Danny, focus. The point I’m trying to make is that she’s protective of her heart.”

  “Why?”

  “Why is anyone protective of their heart?”

  “Because they’ve been hurt.”

  “Gooooooal!”

  I overlook the crazy and do as he told me. I focus on the point, wanting more information. “Who hurt her?”

  His gaze lands on me and he seems to be debating, then he says, “She was in a bad relationship. She got out of it.”

  Is he talking about me and Reese or her and someone else? I probe deeper. “In New York?”

  His eyes brows arch. “Yes. Where else? Nebraska?” He’s throws that out there like he’s joking, but my instincts make me think he’s not.

  Now I level my eyes on him. “Nebraska? What do you know about Nebraska?”

  “I know it’s the home of the Cornhuskers. Well, I didn’t know that, but I looked it up when Reese said she went to school there.”

  I don’t say anything, fearing anything I do will incriminate us. But he’s good. Very good. He challenges me with his own silence.

  Ending the standoff, I ask, “They have a great football team. Do you watch college sports?”

  “No, though I’ve always appreciated a tight end.”

  Laughing, I say, “So you do follow football.”

  “Not at all, but I’ve picked up a few key things. Things like offensive, defensive, tackle, you and Reese used to date, sidelined, Super Bowl—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up.”

  “To Tackle?”

  “After that.”

  “Sidelined?”

  “Before that?”

  “You and Reese used to date?”

  “Touchdown. What do you know about that?”

  “About touchdowns? Nothing. About you and Reese, not enough,” he says, eager for more. “Why don’t you fill me in?”

  I’m not sure what to say. She told him. She told him about us. Doesn’t that go against what we were doing, keeping our past a secret so it didn’t affect our present? “I need a minute.” Standing and going to the balcony, I open the door and stand outside on the recently replaced wood flooring. I lean on the railing, unsure what to think or how to process that he knows and I had no say in the matter.

  His voice is calmer, more cautious when he says, “I want what’s best for her.”

  I turn around and through the open door, I ask, “And you think I’m best for her?”

  “I think you’re better than her last boyfriend.”

  “That’s not exactly a compliment, especially since I don’t know anything about her ex.” Though I like that it sounds like there’s not a current boyfriend in the picture.

  When he walks to the door, I step back inside the room just as he says, “I should leave something for her to share when she’s ready, but I see how she looks at you. What I don’t know is why you guys broke up back then and I’ll leave that for now. But you’ve got two days to make her remember why you guys worked.”

  “So this is a setup, a matchmaking scheme?”

  “No, Model Danny. This is serendipity.”

  “This isn’t a game. This is our life. And how do you know if I’m willing to play along?”

  Opening the door, he steps out, but stays to say, “Because I see how you look at her.”

  16

  DANNY

  Beyond the comment about her tits, and I’m left wondering what I’m supposed to do now. I sit on the edge of the bed, but it’s the last thing I want to do. I get up and shut the balcony door and grab the key ring as I walk out of the room.

  I march toward room 233, but stop when Claudia comes out of her room. She sees me and smiles. “Danny, hi.” After locking her door she comes toward me. “How are you?” We exchange a cheek kiss greeting.

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “So good. This is a great gig, huh?”

  “It’s great.”

  “I’m so relieved,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck, “that I’m working with you. It’s always been a dream and it’s good to have a friend here with me.”

  “Yeah, it’s good to have a familiar face to work with,” I reply. Over her shoulder Reese steps out of her room and sees us. Of course she does with her perfect timing.

  I drop my arms from Claudia and she releases me. “Let’s go get a drink. I heard there’s a bar in the restaurant downstairs.”

  Reese goes back into her room and shuts the door. Claudia is looking at me, hopeful. “I can meet you in a few minutes.”

  Her expression falls when I don’t respond right away. “Whatever it is can wait. C’mon.” Taking me by the arm, her hands are vice-like grips. “I refuse to take a no for an answer. I’ll buy the first round.”

  Talking to Reese with Claudia hanging around is impossible, so I acquiesce. “All right.”

  “Yay.” She starts talking again, but I look back at room 233, not hearing anything she’s been saying. I just nod and agree and that gets me by.

  I don’t know how much time has passed, but I’ve only stomached one iced tea when Reese and Vinnie walk into the restaurant. Claudia jumps up and hugs Vinnie. “I’m so happy to be here. The concept is amazing. I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

  My eyes meet Reese’s, but she looks away. “I think our table is ready.”

  She’s wearing dark, tight jeans with boots, and a black tank top. It’s casual, nothing like she wore in LA, but she looks sexy as fuck. I follow her to the table. Claudia and Vinnie are still talking shop back at the bar. When we sit down, I say, “You look beautiful as always.”

  In disbelief, she says, “Oh God. I’m sure I look a complete mess after the traveling.”

  “It’s the truth, Reese.”

  That comment finally catches her attention. Before the others join us, she whispers, “I was never good with compliments. Thank you.” Leaning over, she lowers her voice even more. “Before they come over, I just want to tell you that I understand we live very different lives. It’s none of my business what you do in your free time. Just don’t let it compromise the shoot. I’ve worked very hard to make it happen.”

  When her eyes go back to Claudia, I understand what she’s really saying, so I say, “If my intentions aren’t clear, I’ll be more direct.”

  “What are your intentions?”

  “I told you before. To make you miss me when we’re not together.”

  “Dann—”

  “I’m famished,” Claudia announces as she takes the seat across from Reese, between Vinnie and me.

  Reese glances at me, then says, “Me too.”

  My appetite is gone though I continue to peruse the menu. The waitress takes our drink orders while my anxiety grows. I don’t want to be here. There’s no way I’ll be able to sit through dinner and pretend nothing is wrong when everything is so fucking screwed up. I want to be alone with her to figure out where we stand. All patience is lost when I’m with her. My mind muddled under her scent and beauty, her restraint and poker face. I want us to be together… shit. Damn Luke and his girly feely shit the other night, dragging all this up. I’m losing my shit and that never happens. Not since I lost her. Fuck. When the waitress returns with a round of waters, I’m standing. “Go ahead and order without me.”

  Everyone is staring at me, but I only look to one set of eyes. Reese asks, “Are you coming back?”

  “I just remembered I have a call with my agent. I don’t want to hold you up. I know you’re hungry. If I don’t return I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  I walk away before the lie becomes more complicated. Walking through the door that leads to the hotel, I go to the fireplace. She’s got me all fucked up already and then Vittori lays that other bullshit on me, making it worse. This is ridiculous. I’ve only felt this twisted over one woman
and it’s the same one doing it to me again.

  Listing a million pros out for Luke to spur him into taking action, taking a chance, and going after Jane has not done anything for my motivation. I fucking suck.

  “Danny?”

  I look behind me and see Reese standing there in her beautiful perfection. All the anger and hurt I’ve felt for years boils to the surface, transforming inside. There’s a million cons crossing my mind, but my body acts on the instinct of one pro—kiss her.

  She says, “I wanted to check—”

  My lips cover hers, cutting her words off. While holding her face to mine, I expect her to pull back, maybe even slap me, but she doesn’t.

  She does the opposite.

  When she takes me by the shoulders and lifts up, her breath becomes mine and I take it, inhaling her deep within. My tongue meets hers and our bodies come together.

  But then she’s gone and I’m left fumbling. Her back is against the wall and she’s breathing hard. With her hand on her chest, she says, “I can’t. I can’t do this.” The expression on her face wavers between horror and embarrassment before she’s leaving, hurrying out the entrance toward the stairs.

  And then I’m running.

  I stop her at the top of the steps by taking the stairs by three and blocking her. “Don’t run away from me. Not again, Reese.”

  With her hands pressing to my chest, keeping me at arm’s length, tears fill her eyes. “What is happening?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looks down as her arms fall to her sides and her gaze goes to the floor. When she looks back up at me, she’s exasperated and walks around me. Standing at the top, she grips the railing tightly. “Us? This? This wasn’t planned, but here I am swept right back up in you. How is that possible?”

  “Because we never had closure.” I cover the last few steps dividing us and cover her hand with mine. “And all of this was planned. You put that plan in motion when you suggested me for the campaign. You made this happen. You brought us together as if you expected a different outcome than what you’ve gotten.”