The Near & Far Series

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The Near & Far Series Page 34

by Serena Clarke


  “I am amazing.” She made light of his comment, shrugging. “It’s tough being the best twin.” Then she jokingly echoed his earlier words, adding an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll struggle on.”

  He was ready for more back-and-forth, she could tell. His eyes shone with the challenge of her teasing indifference, and he leaned closer. She blinked hard, trying to erase the idea of leaning in herself, and letting her lips meet his. That middle ground was slipping away under her feet. She could feel her eyelids grow heavy, the world slowing even as her pulse sped and raced. God, at this rate she might as well just cover herself in frosting and hand him a fork…

  But right then, Jennifer came over and joined them. Cady snapped into reality, while Reid stood straight and took a step back, grabbing his glass and throwing back the rest of his drink. Jennifer gave Cady a wary look, but she found her feet on that middle ground, suddenly firm again, and smiled. Since they came back to the bus, she’d maintained her ‘first do no harm’ policy with Alison and Jennifer. Sure, they could be mighty pains in the butt (or aaass, as she’d say now, thanks to Reid), but this was their turf. And Jennifer had definitely turned out to be the lesser evil of the two. Even Shelby had softened toward her while they worked on the choreography, which spoke volumes.

  At Cady’s smile, Jennifer’s face lost some of its hardness. “Hi,” she said to them both. Then she smiled at Reid, sweet and clear. “I think you owe me a dance,” she told him. “Remember?”

  “I do,” he said, turning to her. He held out his arm, and she threaded hers though. “Excuse us,” he said to Cady, no trace of their almost-moment in his voice.

  “Sure, yes,” she said, keeping a neutral expression. Inside, though, she felt far from neutral. She wanted to do a Shelby—stake out her ground and compete for top spot with this man. But she stayed put, watching them go. Maybe their history included owing each other more than a dance. They joined Kyle and Shelby and the other dancers on the floor, and Reid practically scooped Jennifer up, making her laugh as they swung into some country and western move. For a tall, solidly built guy, who looked more like he’d be at home in a mosh pit than a country bar, he was really nimble on his feet. He laughed too as they did some kind of cheesy boot-scooting maneuver, and she had to admire his complete disregard for whether he looked ‘cool’. She couldn’t tell if it was ironic or not—but he seemed to be enjoying it very much. And Jennifer definitely was.

  She couldn’t watch any more. She finished the last of her drink and ordered another, then went to join Alison, Gavin and Tino at the table. The boys insisted that they did not dance, and Alison was clearly waiting for Kyle to finish dancing with Shelby. Looking at the two of them, it was obvious that she might have a long wait ahead. Cady had to appreciate the irony of the situation—finally, she and Alison had something in common.

  Gavin and Tino were talking to each other about something to do with American ninja warriors, so she tried to spark up a conversation with Alison. “So, I never asked…where are you from?”

  “Hidden Hills.” At Cady’s blank face, she clarified. “In LA. You know, by Calabasas.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of that. The Kardashians, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “They’re new. I grew up around there.”

  Cady knew she should be more impressed. “Well…that sounds nice.”

  “It is nice. Very nice.” She sighed and looked out over the dance floor, maintaining her ice-queen demeanor.

  Her posture really was very good, Cady had to give her that. She sat up straighter, pushing her shoulders back, and tried another topic. “How are things going, do you think? With our planning?”

  Alison shrugged. “Pretty good.”

  Actually, Cady thought it was going great, and Reid’s praise gave her proof. But she was having fun with this now—annoying Alison, while maintaining the friendly moral high ground, was a very satisfying pastime. And it couldn’t hurt to massage that standoffish ego a little—she wanted her on board, after all. Especially as a potential source of info.

  “You know more than me about how to organize things like this.”

  “Yes,” Alison said darkly, not looking at her. “I do.”

  Cady pressed on. There was something she’d been wondering about. “So, in the previous flash mobs, was Kyle more…involved? You know, day to day.”

  Alison turned, suddenly fully into the conversation. “He was. He was right alongside us all the way.” She frowned. “It’s different this time. Like he’s cutting himself off from us. Now that you’re here.” Along with her tone, her meaning was clear—Cady wasn’t welcome.

  It was tempting to enlighten her about whose idea this particular flash mob was, but Cady knew it wouldn’t help. She opted for more massaging instead. “But really, I’m just coordinating. You guys are doing the important stuff.”

  “That’s true.” Alison’s expression lost a little of its iciness.

  “I suppose he has faith in everyone to get the job done. I mean, you’ve proved yourselves.” She felt a bit bad about the fake appreciation, but she really wanted to know why Kyle, who had organized all those vibrant, whimsical flash mobs, was now shutting himself away so much. “Maybe now he knows he can step back a bit?”

  Alison nodded, starting to thaw a bit more. “Maybe. But why would he want to? He used to love it all, and it was so much fun with him involved. He’s so different these days. Not right this minute,” she added. “But, generally.”

  Cady let the question hang in the air as they watched him playing up with the others on the dance floor. At times like this, he was irresistibly entertaining and funny. Maybe he just had an erratic personality, and the downs—made worse by the pressure he was under?—were nothing more than the flip side of the charisma rush. Or maybe his highs and lows were more chemically induced. Alison obviously didn’t know any more than Cady, but at least things were a little less frosty between them now. High ground aside, that had to be a good thing.

  Now, there was one other question on her mind…if she could just work out how to ask it right.

  “Jennifer’s having a good time,” she observed, trying to ease into the topic.

  “She loves dancing,” Alison said.

  “Well, she’s good at it. Not like me.” It was true. Anything more than the side-to-side shuffle and she was in two-left-feet territory. Not to mention, what the heck were you supposed to do with your arms? She just couldn’t figure the whole thing out. “The guys are good too.”

  They watched as Reid dipped Jennifer backward. Her hair almost touched the floor and her foot came up in a graceful point as she arched back into his arm, trusting him to hold her. Then he pulled her back up and gave her a deft spin, which she finished with an elegant flourish. That was the last straw—Cady had to know.

  “Are Jennifer and Reid...?” She tried to sound low key, letting the rest of the question ask itself.

  But Alison wasn’t buying the casual act. “Why?” she asked sharply, giving Cady a steely look. Ouch. The ice queen returneth. Damn, she really had to work harder at being sneaky. She’d never make a poker player (apart from the online version, maybe).

  “They just, um…they seem so…”

  “Perfect for each other? I know.” Alison tilted her head, considering the two of them. “We all think so too. It’ll happen, eventually.” She looked pointedly at Cady. “Anyway. People come and go, don’t they? But some things are meant to be.”

  Cady felt slightly ill. They all thought so? She could hardly step on a whole bus-load of toes. On the other hand, it hadn’t happened yet. But, on the other other hand, Alison was right (if transparently bitchy). Yes, people come and go, and soon Cady would be gone, and Jennifer would still be here. So, no contest really. She had to give that point, grudgingly, to the ice queen. She guessed Alison was heartily looking forward to Shelby being gone too.

  The four dancers eventually returned to the table after a couple more songs, glowing and cheerful with their ironic-or-genuine countr
y buzz on. Alison quickly scooted over and made space for Kyle, but Shelby bumped him further along with her hip. “Make room,” she told him, and he obliged, much to Alison’s annoyance. Reid ended up at the far end of the long table from Cady, opposite Jennifer, leaning back and letting his long legs stretch out to the side.

  Kyle banged his fist on the table. “Refreshment!” he announced. “We must have refreshment.”

  For tonight at least, Kyle was his charismatic, engaging self. And for a while longer, she and Shelby were still here, so the original bus girls would just have to deal with it. But Cady would leave Jennifer to her prior claim on Reid. Even if he was a disgraceful flirt, and she was hopelessly weak in the face of it.

  Travel, her mum had said. Have some adventures. Find a gorgeous man. Yes, here were all three. But Cady’s new start was also a new start for Dayna and her family, and that was the most important thing right now. That, and keeping Flashpoint on the road. Men, and whether to play their games, were just a distraction at this point. So it was a good thing he was going back to work.

  She looked along the table to where he lounged, easy as you please, one hand along the back of the booth, the other resting low on his flat stomach. If that was her hand…she tore her eyes away. Yes, the going back to work was a good thing. It was.

  * * *

  True to his word, Gavin got the number for Fenella at E!, and Alison made contact with her the next morning. She said she couldn’t guarantee anything, but she loved the idea, and promised to bring it up at the day’s planning meeting. The five-under-five concept was a daunting reality for the Isaacsons—but it was also proving to be a great pitch for the media and the public.

  Sure enough, a text arrived later that day—one of the E! reporters Fenella knew was going to a red carpet fundraiser, and Iggy Pop would be there. If there was a chance, the reporter would ask him what he thought. But only if there was a chance. She made it clear that it was no sure thing.

  That night, they all gathered (minus Reid) in front of the enormous drop-down screen in the bus lounge, and waited through endless chat and trivia for the fundraiser report. After reality stars and celebrity babies, fashion faux pas and gossip, the story finally began. There was Iggy, blue eyes brilliant and tan glowing as usual, but sporting a crisp white shirt and dinner jacket instead of his famous bare-chested look.

  “Almost didn’t recognize him,” commented Gavin, but the others shushed him.

  The reporter looked quite excited about being close to such a legend. “Iggy, you look great, very dapper!”

  He mumbled something that sounded like agreement, obviously unimpressed by her gushing. She persevered, asking him about his involvement in the charity du jour, and he patiently answered her stock-standard questions. By now it was obvious that the interview wasn’t going well, so she regrouped.

  “Okay, sounds great! Now, have you heard about this flash mob movement in northern California—Flashpoint?—who’re using your song ‘Home’ in an upcoming event?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard about that,” he replied.

  The Flashpointers in question held their collective breath as the reporter continued on.

  “For our viewers who might not know about this, they’re raising money for a family who are facing losing their house, and are expecting triplets—triplets!—which would give them five children under five! They’re hoping for a huge turnout for their flash mob this weekend in Rownville. What do you think about it all, Iggy?”

  “I think that’s gotta be a good thing,” he said, starting to walk away. “The guys better go shirtless.”

  He gave her a wink and was gone, leaving her giggling.

  “Well, there you have it. Ladies, if you’re keen to see a mob of shirtless men this weekend—and all in a good cause—head up to Rownville and get in on the action. I’m kinda tempted myself, I have to say.” She laughed. “Back to you, Chuck.”

  They cut back to the studio, where Chuck was joking about making extra trips to the gym, then the next story was underway.

  On the bus, everyone looked at each other, loving the moment. “Did that really happen?” Shelby asked.

  Kyle stood up. “Yes. Goddamn, that was crazy. Come on, get off your asses. We’ve gotta be all over that. Go share it. Alison, throw something up on Twitter and Facebook, and anywhere else we need to be. Good job, girl.”

  Alison glowed. Minus the scowl, she was transformed, and Cady wished she’d show them that face every day. The team leapt up, going for laptops and phones, ready to spread the word about this latest development.

  In less than a week, the buzz had grown beyond what Cady had dared to hope for—she couldn’t believe what they were creating. Her idea, born on the Santa Cruz sand, had become something b-i-g. And so far, the online reaction was positive.

  There was something else she was really hoping would pan out, too. The lyrics for ‘Home’ mentioned a Jeep, which had given her an idea. Here, surely, was a chance for some feel-good publicity for the car company. She wasn’t sure if the whole thing was too counter-culture for them—some of the previous flash mobs had kind of pushed the envelope, after all. Just like with the bank, it would have to be carefully pitched to get them on board, but oh, she’d love to see the Isaacsons driving those kids around in a shiny new Jeep. She’d made that her own secret project, while Kyle had promised to negotiate with the bank. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

  Fourteen

  When the ‘Home’ day dawned, Cady was ready. She was too nervous to eat breakfast, but she was ready.

  It was a perfect California day, just a few puffs of cloud in the sky. If it held out until evening, it would definitely be warm enough for any shirtless guys who might turn up. And she hoped they would. Not for the shirtlessness itself (although the girls agreed that a few buff flash mobsters would be very nice, thank you), but for the extra newsworthiness it would bring. It would be a gift for a bored field reporter looking for a way to liven up their footage.

  Before everything got underway, she sat on the bus steps in the sunshine and called her dad in London. He was happy to hear about their adventures, and assured her that he was fine, but she thought he sounded tired. He’d been through a lot—losing his wife, selling his house, and getting settled into a whole new life—so she supposed it was only to be expected, but she hated hearing him sound so flat. Along with the guilt of keeping the father secret, the guilt of leaving him alone washed over her anew. But he wouldn’t listen to any apologies from her about not being there. He made her promise to keep having fun, and to look after her sister. The first was no problem, the second…well, she’d do her best. As they said their goodbyes, she told him she loved him, and promised to call again soon. He said he loved her too, and sent his love to Shelby as well, and she felt a little better as she hung up.

  Then she checked her messages, and the Flashpoint Facebook and Twitter accounts (all good comments so far), while watching Gavin start the day with a few bicep curls, press-ups, and pull-ups on the branch of a nearby tree. He was a personal trainer in real life, he’d told her, but he was taking a break for the summer to hang out with the Flashpointers. He wasn’t worried about getting more clients when he went back to work. In this country, he said, there was a steady supply of flabby people waiting for his help. Hearing that, she wasn’t sure how diplomatic his training approach would be.

  “I’m getting out of shape,” he puffed to Cady now. “Too much…drinking. I blame Reid. Should never have…let him…join up.” He dropped from the branch and stood with hands on hips, catching his breath.

  Tino stopped on his way to unload some equipment from the storage area at the back of the bus. With his huge barrel chest and powerful shoulders clad in a sleeveless t-shirt, he looked like a pro wrestler who’d wandered off from Monday Night Raw.

  “It’s kind of touching how you refuse to give up hope,” he told Gavin.

  “We’re not all blessed by the gods like you, brother,” he replied amicably. “Some of us ha
ve to work to look as good as this.”

  “As good as what?” Tino laughed as he walked away.

  Gavin flicked his hair back across and pressed his arm to his sweaty forehead. “Don’t want to let the side down,” he told Cady.

  She smiled. “You’ll do us proud.”

  It actually seemed like the whole team would do them proud. Between them, they’d pulled together to organize everything to the nth degree. The only thing Cady didn’t have under total control was Kyle’s bank negotiations. He’d assured her the night before that everything was taken care of, but wouldn’t give her any details. She could only hope he’d come through.

  Luckily, Rownville’s city council, recognizing a PR opportunity, had given them permission to use the square. During the day, they finalized all the last details, chalked out the house outline, and made sure everything was set up.

  By late afternoon, clusters of people were gathering, with more arriving by the minute. Cady had found a couple of local bands who were keen to perform for free, and the first started playing on the small stage set up on one side of the square. With the music, the food stalls, and the relaxed crowd, the whole thing had a cool festival vibe. Along with the flash mob participants, the media contingent was growing, and Cady could see TV crews interviewing visitors—particularly the shirtless ones. She was tickled to see how many of the guys had taken Iggy’s suggestion to heart, and gone bare-chested. And it was obvious that the female contingent appreciated it very much too—there were more than a few sparks flying around the square.

  Once Kyle was satisfied that everything was in place, he set to work schmoozing. He looked super-charged as he worked the crowd, charming the girls and buddying around with the guys, shirtless and otherwise. His scruffy charisma was turned up to full, bordering on frenetic, but he had everyone there completely won over.

 

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