Begging her to attend my father’s premiere and then missing it in favor of running over the sexiest man alive.
Gah.
My life.
“Tell me you’re alive and in one piece and I don’t have to race over to kick Paxton Myles’s ass.”
She giggled.
My reserved best friend, whose only desire in life was to be a kindergarten teacher, giggled.
“Paxton is harmless,” she said, a sigh sliding into the words.
Oh God. She really was in deep.
“Paxton Myles? Harmless? The world’s most eligible bachelor? Womanizer extraordinaire? We are talking about the same person?” My voice had gone incredulous.
“No longer eligible,” she corrected, her breath hitching as she whispered it like a secret into her phone.
“You’re really serious?”
“Really, really serious.”
“What in the world has gotten into my best friend?”
“Paxton Myles.” She couldn’t hold back her laughter. She busted up in it, and there was nothing I could have done but laugh along with her.
“So, the rumors are all true. You really have become a Paxton Myles Slut.”
“Um . . . no. Paxton Myles became my man. Big difference. Big, big difference.”
Holy crap.
She was serious.
My brows narrowed. “Where are you staying?”
Her tone dropped again, as if she were trying to keep her confession to herself. “At Paxton’s.”
“It sounds like we need a couple of bottles of wine to catch up over.”
“Definitely. So much has changed. And speaking of that, with all the stuff that happened so quickly in my life, you never fessed up to what happened the night of the premiere.”
“It’s way less interesting than what happened to you at the premiere.”
“Liar.” It was all a tease.
I sighed.
Kaylee sobered. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Nerves tumbled through me. This stuff was so much more Kaylee’s territory. I was supposed to be a fortress. No one even coming close to getting into my heart. And there I was, anxiety clawing through my senses and need pulsing through my body, stirring everything up so I didn’t know up from down.
The worst part was the growing affection that thought it would be a good idea to build itself up right in the middle of me.
“It’s nothing,” I told her.
“I call bullshit,” she returned.
Another sigh, and I rubbed my temples as I came to a stop at the light.
“So, I kind of ran someone over the night of the premiere.”
“What?” she screamed.
Crap.
Sometimes my delivery was totally bad.
“He isn’t dead or anything,” I said.
“Oh, well that’s good to know.” Pure sarcasm. She sucked in a couple of breaths, calming herself. “So, what’s the long face for? Is he trying to sue you or something?”
“You can’t even see me.”
“I can totally see you. Right now, you basically look like someone kicked your puppy.”
Automatically, my attention darted to the rearview mirror.
Yep.
Kicked puppy.
That was exactly what I looked like.
“No, he isn’t trying to sue me.”
“Then what?”
“He wants to go out with me. Date me.” The last came out as if they were dirty words.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
I hesitated for a second, trying to gather my thoughts and my emotions that didn’t know what direction to go. “He wants to be an actor. He’s a fame chaser.”
Silence hovered on the other end of the line. Kaylee knew all about Christopher. What I’d gone through. The way he’d used me because of my family name and then tossed me aside when he no longer needed it anymore.
“And what makes you think he’s anything like that jerk?”
“Aren’t they all the same?” Bitterness bled out with the words.
She inhaled, and I could almost see her softly shaking her head. “No, Elle. I used to think so, but I learned firsthand not to make assumptions about people based on what they look like to the rest of the world. Had I let that guide me? I would be missing out on the love of my life.”
Tears pricked at my eyes.
Damn it.
This was so not me. I didn’t have emotional reactions like this.
But Kas had me so spun up. Tied in knots. Wanting things I knew better than to want with a guy like him. I should know better than allowing Kaylee’s words to soothe me.
I knew better.
I had the mashed-up heart to prove it, and I didn’t think I could survive that kind of betrayal again.
“Maybe you got lucky,” I murmured quietly.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky, too. Just because he wants to be an actor doesn’t make him a jerk, Elle. Christopher was an asshole. A straight asshole who used you. You can’t just assume this guy wants the same thing.”
“He doesn’t know who I am.” I rushed, desperate to admit it to someone. Relief followed, as if I’d purged a lie that had been crushing my chest. “He doesn’t know,” I whispered a little quieter.
“And why is that?”
I pushed out a sigh. “I don’t know . . . because I wanted to protect myself, I guess.”
“Or maybe you wanted to see if you should give him the chance,” she returned.
One of those tears slipped free. “Kay-Kay.”
She laughed lightly. “Don’t pretend like I don’t know you. I totally know you. You like him.”
“That’s the problem. I like him too much.”
“Then see how it goes.”
“And what if it goes badly?”
“Then you tried. You gave it a shot. You trusted and opened up your heart. Because living afraid isn’t the right way to live. You know that, Elle, no matter how carefree you spend your days and your nights, there will always be something missing if you don’t open yourself up to possibilities. If this guy doesn’t see that and doesn’t appreciate you for who you are and not who your family is, then he’s the idiot. He will be the one missing out.”
She lowered her voice. “Just don’t let your fear make you miss out. You deserve to be happy, Elle. Truly happy. Give yourself a chance.”
That would mean giving Kas a chance.
My trust.
Was I ready for that?
* * *
I was excited when I stepped onto the elevator that led me to the top floor of my building.
Kaylee was right.
I needed to give this a chance. Set my fears and hurt and reservations aside and see where this went. Kas didn’t know who my father was. He wasn’t using me. We could just . . . be for a while. Know each other outside of our connections and goals.
Outside of the fame.
My smile was wide when I swung open the front door.
And like Kas had been so many times before, he was in my kitchen, preparing dinner again. Though, tonight the small table in the nook was set, candles dancing, Kas dressed in fitted dress pants and a button-up that made him look so damned good my knees knocked.
He spun around when he heard me enter, excitement on his face. “It’s about time you got home. I’ve been waiting for you.”
A low chuckle climbed my throat as I dumped my things inside the door. “Um . . . I get home at the same time every day. Did you expect me earlier?”
“A man can hope, can’t he?”
“I think you do just fine around here while I’m gone.”
“Not even. It’s lonely as fuck. I’m about to go out of my mind around here during the day.”
“Then maybe it’s time you went back to work and stopped milking that broken ankle for all it’s worth,” I teased.
His teeth raked his bottom lip.
Damn, that was sexy, and my mind raced back to last night when it’d been my lip he�
�d been nipping at.
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
I snapped back to the present when I realized he’d phrased his words as a question. “What’s that?”
He rounded the corner and came toward me, his limp improved but noticeable. “Sit with me.”
He took my hand and led me to the table, pulling a chair out for me. “Such a gentleman.” I tried to make it light, but there was a tremble in my voice. What was he up to?
He sat opposite of me and poured me a glass of wine. “What’s going on?” I asked, suspicion in my tone.
He fiddled with his mug, glancing between me and the growing foam. “These last couple weeks have been the best I’ve had since I got to Los Angeles.”
Emotion pitched through my chest. Squeezing my heart. Could I believe that? That he was really wanting this as much as I was wanting him?
The problem was, that terrified me.
I swallowed around all the questions and pinned on a playful smile. “I guess it hasn’t been so terrible with you hanging around.”
“I’m serious, Elle. Since I met you . . .”
He looked away for a beat before he looked back at me. “I want to share stuff with you, and I’ve never wanted that with anyone else before.”
“You do?”
Another wall crumbled.
Crashed to the ground.
“Hell, yes.” He reached over and grabbed my hand from over the table, a rush of excitement rising to his face.
“Come with me to the Golden Globes next Sunday night. I know it’s short notice, but my agent called and said he has big news to deliver. The second he told me, I knew I wanted you to be the one on my arm when I receive it. You’re that girl, Elle. The one I want at my side when I walk the red carpet. The one I want to come home to at the end of the day. The one I wake to in the morning.”
Expectancy filled his grin.
As if he thought I was going to hop up and congratulate him.
Throw my arms around his neck, kiss him wildly, and tell him I wanted all of those same things.
Instead, panic froze my tongue, and every promise I’d ever made myself rose to the surface. The one time I’d gone with Christopher to an awards show was the same night he’d told me that he’d finally made it big and having a girlfriend would only hold him back.
He’d given me the whole it’s not you it’s me line.
Of course, that had been after he’d signed on my daddy’s line—a big fat contract that had made him a star.
I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I clutched the edge of the table, wheezing for the nonexistent air.
Panic filled Kas’s face. “Elle, what’s wrong?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to pull myself together. But it was no use. “I need you to leave.”
Kas rocked back. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“No.” I had to force it between clenched teeth.
He shook his head in disbelief, roughing a hand over the cropped hair on his head. “I just poured my heart out to you and invited you into the most important part of my life, and you tell me to leave?”
It was the first time I’d heard Kas truly upset.
No jest in his voice.
No witty comeback that tripped me up in laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
He scrambled to take hold of my hand. “Come on, Elle. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I want you there. I want you there with me. It won’t be the same without you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
Air huffed from his nose, and he withdrew his hand when I didn’t take it. He rocked back in his chair. “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that. That’s because you refuse to let me in.”
“I told you, I don’t date actors.”
He shook his head. “That’s what this is about? The fact I want to be an actor? Nice.”
“Just go home, Kas.” The words were propelled by fear. The only defense I had.
I needed him to go.
Leave before I fully gave in.
I was the fool who had thought I could keep those worlds separate, and here they were, already colliding.
Anger rolling from him, he pushed to standing. My nerves rattled at my insides when he leaned over and pressed his hands to the table, his face butted up to mine as he cocked his head. “Tell me one thing, Elle? Is that the same bullshit excuse you give every guy or do you just not like me?”
I blinked at him. Trying to find stable ground. To hold on to the reason I had to do this. “You’re the one who pushed for this.”
He inched closer, his mouth brushing mine, my breath hitching in my throat. “Because I felt something. Every fucking time I looked at you, I felt something. And I thought maybe—just maybe—you felt something, too.”
When I didn’t say anything, his mouth twisted in disappointment, hurt blistering from him like rage. “Then I guess I’ll get out of your way.”
He pushed from the table and hobbled away, his leg seeming to drag behind him as he went.
I heard him banging around in my bedroom.
Five minutes later, he appeared in the doorway, slinging his huge duffle bag over his shoulder and resignation on his chiseled face. He moved toward the door, dragging his foot behind him as he struggled to carry the bag.
I should have gone to him. Stopped him or helped or did something.
But I didn’t know how to change our circumstances.
Who we were or who either of us wanted to be.
Because Roger Ward’s daughter couldn’t show up on the arm of another up-and-coming actor.
Not again.
But when he paused to look back at me when he pulled open the door, none of what passed between us felt like acting.
Hurt.
Longing.
Regret.
And when he stepped out and slammed the door shut behind him, I was sure he walked out with a piece of me that I wasn’t ever going to get back.
Fourteen
Kassius
“Kas! Over here!” The loud—and familiar—tabloid reporter’s voice catches my attention. As I turn my head, lights begin to flash wildly. I paint on a crooked smile that sends the press into a bigger frenzy. More lights, more flashes, more shouting.
“Kas!”
“Kas! Look this way.”
“Over here!”
Dom stands next to me with his cell phone pressed to his ear, most likely dealing with another needy client. He nods at me to start the red carpet walk without him, he’ll meet me inside the theater. Press lines aren’t his thing; after all, he’s just an agent. Hell, he didn’t even want to come with me tonight, but the bastard felt bad for me after Elle declined.
I don’t even know what the hell happened with Elle. One minute, I was asking her to join me, and the next, she was yelling at me to go home.
“Kas! Is it true you landed the campaign for Calvin Klein?” I just smile politely and don’t answer. That deal is freshly penned; the ink hasn’t even dried. I signed the contracts in the limo on the way here . . . for ad campaigns for underwear and fragrance.
Dom pitched the deal to the Calvin Klein reps months ago, and I spoke at great length with them, only not to hear anything for weeks afterward. We assumed they weren’t interested or found another fresh face, however, we usually hear something.
Dom shocked the shit out of me when he slapped a contract in my lap right after I slid into the limo. He said legal looked it over, and it was a solid contract, that I’d be stupid not to sign it, and then handed me a pen. He informed me that this was the first time anyone has landed both campaigns simultaneously, and they were paying me handsomely for it. To the tune of two million dollars. I damn near felt nauseous as I was signing the papers.
That kind of money is life changing. The jobs I’ve been taking have paid ten thousand here, fifteen thousand there, and after Dom’s cut and taxes, I make out okay, but I still live in a shitty apartment and eat dry chicken
and steamed veggies out of a microwave for dinner.
“Kas, what happened to your foot?” Another photographer asks as I move slowly, favoring my ankle.
Hobbling down the red carpet a little farther another reporter tosses a question at me. “Any chance we’ll see you on the big screen, Kas? You’ve got what Hollywood is looking for.” She damn near drools on herself, her smile is so big I wonder if her cheeks hurt. She winks at me as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip. Tacky.
“One can hope,” I answer and turn my attention toward the line in front of me. The assistant to Hollywood reporter Brian Everfest is waving me down. He hosts the most popular entertainment program on television and radio. I slowly make my way to them, stopping along the way for a few more photos.
“Kas Cowen,” Brian says enthusiastically, shoving a microphone closer to my face. “Nice to see you, man!”
“Thank you. Nice to see you, too.”
“Rumor has it that you’ve inked a multimillion-dollar ad campaign with Calvin Klein, what can you tell us about that?”
Nothing. I think to myself. The damn contract is in the pocket of Dom’s tuxedo. It hasn’t even been returned to Calvin Klein yet. Besides, I want to be the one to tell Elle the news, not for her to hear about it on some sleazy entertainment show. And, for the love of God, I literally signed the damn contract twenty minutes ago in the back of that limo, how the hell do these people hear about these things this quickly?
I smile and look Brian right in the eyes, this way they think you aren’t lying. “I think that’s a great rumor, and I’d be absolutely honored to work for the Calvin Klein brand, but no. There is nothing official to announce.” Brian clenches his teeth and tilts his head. This asshole thought he was going to break the news. Not tonight, Brian.
Changing the subject, he looks to my foot. “Can you tell us what happened to your foot?”
“It’s actually my ankle.” The cameraman tilts the large shoulder camera to show my tuxedo clad legs and my ankle that’s stuffed in a cast. “I had a little mishap on my motorcycle and broke my ankle a couple of weeks ago. It’s healing nicely, still a little sore, but nothing would stop me from attending the Golden Globes.”
One Wild Ride: A Hollywood Chronicles Novel Page 7