Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  I glanced down at my shirt, wondering how he knew I was wearing my clothes from yesterday and I hadn’t shaved in a week. But I guessed that was part of being a twin. Before I could open my mouth to protest, he’d already said goodbye and ended the call. I sank down on the couch with a sigh.

  Theo hadn’t said anything I didn’t already know. But hearing it from him made it harder to ignore the truth. Before the accident, my popularity as an artist had been on the rise. Now, everyone was waiting to see what I’d do next. Not because I was Alexander Kline, but because I was a curiosity—the famous artist who’d suffered an injury that crippled his ability to draw.

  Could I back out of the exhibit? Sure.

  But it would mean the end of my career, my dreams. And not just because it would tank my reputation with galleries. But because it would be admitting failure to myself. It would be accepting defeat.

  I scrolled through my list of contacts, trying to see if the names inspired me in any way. Martine, Akira, Sasha, Else—all gorgeous. Some I’d slept with, some I hadn’t. None of whom I wanted to call. Our relationships had been superficial—hot, but shallow. I saw that now. Besides, I didn’t think any of them would be interested in a has-been.

  I stared at the blank canvas a moment longer before deciding to take Theo’s advice. I’d start by cleaning my apartment and studio.

  By the time I’d finished, I had to admit I did feel a little better. Or at least a little less pathetic. After that, I took a shower. And then, I checked my emails and organized my supplies. And after all that, I was out of excuses and decided that maybe I really should try painting something.

  But again, when I stood before the canvas, my mind went blank. I was empty, void.

  I imagined this was what not being able to get it up felt like. It was shitty and embarrassing and… I dug my fingers into my hair, letting out a frustrated groan. What the hell was wrong with me?

  This had never happened before. Sure, my creativity would ebb and flow, but it had never stopped. It had never dried up like a tube of paint left in the hot sun too long.

  I told myself I just had to draw one thing. One simple piece. Nothing major. Just a small canvas with a little bit of paint. It didn’t even have to look like an orange or a human hand or whatever. I mixed the paint, stood in front of the easel, and lifted my hand. The angle of my wrist was all wrong, but I tried to ignore it. There was nothing to be done. Despite months of physical therapy, my wrist simply didn’t have the range of motion I needed. It never would.

  I took a deep breath, trying to relax myself. But every time I got close to the canvas, it was as if there were an invisible force field that kept me from actually touching it with the brush. I told my hand to paint, sent the message from my brain, yet…nothing happened. I peered down at my arm, but it looked like someone else’s. It was unfamiliar, weak, and uninspiring.

  It was useless.

  I flung the brush across the room before sweeping the canvas and paint from the easel. A glass filled with water went flying, shattering against the concrete floor, much like my wrist had. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in pants as I sank to the floor. I felt as broken and irreparable as that glass.

  I had six weeks until the exhibit, and they were expecting to see over twenty paintings. Twenty original Alexander Kline paintings. Twenty. And I currently had less than half that amount.

  What the fuck am I going to do?

  Chapter 2

  Kate

  * * *

  “You ready for this?” Hunter asked as we walked up the path to the front door.

  Was I ready? Hmm. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to tell my parents I’d dropped out of one of the top premed programs in the nation to pursue a career in art. I could already imagine the disappointment, the guilt. Probably because I’d been struggling with it for the past few weeks.

  At first, I’d told myself I was just going to apply to see if I could even get in.

  Then, when I got in, I figured I’d accept so I wouldn’t lose my spot.

  And it snowballed from there with each new lie I told myself, until I was missing my biology lab to attend life drawing, skipping organic chemistry to practice sculpture. Now, it was a few weeks into the semester, and I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up the act. The add/drop period would end soon and, with it, my chances of dropping my premed classes without penalty, without a permanent stain on my transcript.

  Still, I’d do anything to continue my education at Los Angeles College of Art and Design. The classes were everything I’d dreamed of, and I’d never been happier. While also simultaneously being miserable. Because I’d promised myself I’d tell my family by now, but every time I tried… Well, I found some excuse.

  “Kate?” Hunter turned to me as we reached the porch, and I realized he was looking at me with concern. He didn’t know about my double life; he was merely asking if I was ready to endure the torture that was family dinner with our parents.

  I glanced up at him, telling myself I needed to get my head in gear. I just needed to rip off the Band-Aid and tell my parents the truth. But I didn’t know if I could. Hunter had his MBA and was the CEO of a successful company he’d started. And our older sister, Lily, was not only married to a man my parents adored, but also a divorce attorney to the stars. It was… There was a lot of pressure. A lot of expectation to live up to the family name.

  Hunter placed a hand on my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just tired. I had a busy day.”

  It was at least partially true. But more than that, I was freaking out. I was sweating, and I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to be the brave, assertive woman I was in so many other aspects of my life. But when it came to my dad, I always felt like that excited seven-year-old rushing in to show him my artwork, only to have it dismissed.

  Hunter rang the doorbell. “Come on.” He squeezed me before releasing me. “Let’s get this over with.”

  A figure walked toward the large glass door. As she neared, I recognized the maid’s uniform but not the woman wearing it. Must be new.

  “Miss Katherine.” She smiled at me. “And Mr. Hunter?” Her accent was heavy. French, if I had to guess.

  “Yes,” Hunter said.

  “Your parents are expecting you. Dinner is almost ready.” She stepped back, inviting us into the house that felt more like a museum of modern art than a home.

  “Darlings.” Mother’s voice reached me from the top of the stairs. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I glanced up to see her gliding down the stairs, cocktail in hand. Her hair, her makeup, her outfit were perfect. If you’d looked up Stepford Wife in the dictionary, you’d see her picture listed next to it. She’d undergone so many procedures to enhance her appearance, I’d lost count.

  When she reached the foot of the stairs, she paused a moment as if she were posing for a picture. I bit my cheek, knowing better than to say anything. She never relaxed, never let her guard down. She was always performing, and I found it exhausting.

  “Hunter.” She exchanged air kisses with him. “You look well.”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “And Katherine.” She turned her assessing gaze on me, scanning for faults, no doubt. “You look… Well, that’s an interesting choice of outfit.”

  I tried my best not to roll my eyes. I was wearing a dress, a rather boring one, in my opinion. I’d tried to pick one of the least offensive ones in my closet, just so I wouldn’t have to hear about it. And yet…my mother still found a way to remark on it. I could only imagine how she’d react if she knew I had a nose piercing. I put in a spacer every time I saw her or Hunter just so I wouldn’t have to deal with comments.

  “And pink hair?”

  “Don’t worry,” I sighed. “It will wash out in a few days.”

  “Come,” she said, ushering us toward the dining room. “We can discuss fashion choices over dinner and set up a date
to go shopping together.”

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked when we found the dining room empty. I wanted to tell them at the same time. And I wanted to do it soon—before I could lose my nerve.

  “I’m sure he’ll be along soon.” She smiled, but it was forced. Just like our attendance at these mandatory family dinners.

  She took a swig of her drink, her eyes focused on the backyard. I followed her gaze to where Santos the gardener was trimming a hedge. Her eyes lingered on him for a bit longer than was appropriate, and I startled when someone cleared their throat.

  “Where’s dinner?” Dad strode into the room without glancing up from his phone.

  “Nice of you to join us, dear.” Though Mom’s voice was sweet, it was almost overly so. And it was a thin veneer over the anger lurking just beneath the surface.

  “I wouldn’t dream of missing family dinner,” he said, though it all felt like lines in a play. Everyone was playing their part, and it was a role none of us enjoyed. Lily was only exempt because she was working on a big case.

  “Katherine,” Mom said as the salad was served. “We could meet for lunch near campus and do some shopping for the gala.”

  I swallowed, psyching myself up to tell her it wasn’t necessary. Not only was I not interested in a shopping excursion, but my campus wasn’t where she thought it was. But then Dad’s phone rang, and Mom turned to glare at him.

  “Daniel,” Mom chided.

  He ignored her and answered the call, conducting his business in a terse voice before hanging up a minute later. Mom stared at him for a moment, and he didn’t flinch. Finally, she turned to Hunter with a smile, pretending as if it had never happened.

  “What about you, Hunter? Is your tux ready? Do you have a date?” she asked, and I knew the moment had passed. My courage—and my chance to come clean—was gone.

  “I’m all set,” Hunter said.

  “Fantastic, darling.” I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes. If only my parents would let me off that easy.

  “Bryan Aldridge asked Katherine to be his date, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. They’re going to look gorgeous together. And his father is on the board of St. Elizabeth’s.” She smiled, insinuating that I use the relationship to further my career. My medical career.

  I clutched my napkin beneath the table as I tried to keep my expression neutral. This was it—I just needed to tell them. I needed to tell them I wasn’t going with Bryan to the gala, and I wasn’t going to med school.

  I could do this. I had to do this. The add/drop deadline was looming, and my father was too well connected, had too many friends on the college board, to keep this secret for long.

  “Actually, um.” I cleared my throat. “I’m not going.”

  “Of course, you’re going,” Mom said as if I was joking. As if my attendance was a given. “You will be there, and you will go as Bryan’s date.”

  “No.” I shook my head, and even Hunter seemed surprised by my little act of rebellion.

  “Daniel, please put away your phone.” She glared at Dad who had started texting almost as soon as he’d ended the call. “And talk some sense into your daughter.”

  Dad set his phone aside with a sigh. “This is not up for negotiation. And it’s a great opportunity for you to network. A number of the best doctors in the city will be there. You can start talking to them about summer internships.”

  It was the perfect segue into my new major, my new career path. The perfect opportunity to tell them it wasn’t necessary. None of it was necessary because I wasn’t going to med school, and I wasn’t going to be a doctor.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mom, Dad, but…I already have a date,” I blurted in a panic.

  I’d choked. If that was how they reacted to my refusal to attend a stupid gala, I could only imagine the uproar if they knew I’d ditched premed to attend art school. And I couldn’t do it. I told myself the time wasn’t right, but I knew that was a lie. I was terrified.

  “Who is it?” Mom asked. “Is it—”

  “You haven’t met him,” I said, cutting her off. “But we will be there.” I nodded. “I will be there.”

  Hunter narrowed his eyes at me, likely trying to figure out what the hell was going on with me. I knew he was also likely trying to figure out the identity of my date so he could run a background check and then put the fear of god into him.

  “At least tell us about him,” Mother said as the next course was served. “Is he your age? Older? A fellow student or—”

  “I met him at school,” I answered quickly, hoping to move on to a new subject.

  “What do his parents do for a living?”

  “You know, I didn’t think to ask.”

  “Well, I look forward to meeting him,” she said. She seemed to miss the sarcasm underlying my tone, finally turning back to Hunter. “How’s the new house coming?”

  I tried to force myself to eat, but I mostly just pushed my food around the plate. Despite the fact that it was my favorite—salmon—I’d completely lost my appetite.

  Hunter smiled. “It’s good. I hired a decorator, and she’s got some great ideas.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear.” She patted his hand. “You know, I’d be happy to look over samples and give you my opinion.”

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. My designer is—” He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his napkin. “Very capable.”

  Okay. He was totally acting weird—cagey and like he actually gave a shit about the interior decorating of his home. The fact that he’d even purchased a house was a shock, but now he was having it decorated and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Huh.

  Finally, after dinner ended, Hunter and I bid our parents goodbye before climbing into his car. I sank into the leather upholstery, grateful it was over. I’d survived another week. But I’d also lied for another week. What was wrong with me?

  “What was that about at dinner?” he asked as I fiddled with the temperature settings.

  “What?” I played coy. I knew what he was referring to. I just didn’t want to talk about it.

  “The gala—you have a date?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “No. Of course not.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “When do I get to meet him?”

  “At the gala,” I said, wondering who I was going to ask.

  When Hunter stopped for a red light, he glanced over at me. “You don’t have a date. Do you?”

  I huffed, knowing there was no use lying. “No. But I couldn’t go with Bryan. He’s an ass.”

  But it wasn’t just about Bryan; it was about finally taking a stand for what I wanted. Though I hadn’t told my parents about art school, I knew that pushing back on the gala was at least a step in the right direction.

  Hunter chuckled. “Oh, I won’t disagree with you on that. But are you sure this is worth the fight? It’s just one night.”

  Hunter and I had both accepted long ago that it was best just to go along with our parents’ plans, at least outwardly. But I was sick of doing everything they wanted.

  “I’m sure one of my friends would go with you,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m not going to make them suffer through it.”

  We were both quiet for a moment with only the radio as background noise. I stared out the window, watching the passing streetlights. Another week, another lie. What would it take for me to finally tell them the truth?

  “I feel like I never see you anymore,” Hunter said. “What’s going on in your world?”

  “Nothing,” I chirped, knowing I’d responded a little too quickly.

  He pulled onto his street, slowing as he neared his house. A car I didn’t recognize was parked outside, and only the light in the bedroom was on.

  “I know I’ve been busy lately, but I’m always here for you,” he said.

  I nodded, knowing it was the truth. Hunter was nearly six years older than me, but he’d always looked out fo
r me. Always protected me. I knew he would never judge me for quitting premed, but I feared he’d make me tell our parents when he realized the secrets were tearing me apart.

  I also knew he’d try to fix it. Much as I loved my brother for being a fixer, this was something I had to do myself. I couldn’t always rely on him to rescue me.

  “I’m good. I have a heavy course load this semester.”

  But really, I was loaded down with lies. Lying about where I lived—I’d moved in with Brie to save on rent. Lying about where I went to school—no more premed at UCLA.

  The only reason I was able to pull it off was because the distributions from my trust went directly to me, not the leasing office. Sharing an apartment with Brie was cheaper than my old place. Plus, I’d saved a lot of money this summer by living rent-free at Hunter’s apartment and working at a costume shop. Between all that, I was just barely able to eke out tuition.

  “I bet.” He parked the car before reaching over to ruffle my hair. I rolled my eyes and ducked out of his reach. “Organic chemistry and a biology lab.” He cringed, and I was impressed he’d remembered my schedule—or at least, the schedule he knew about. “I’d rather retake accounting.”

  I mimed putting a gun to my temple and pulling the trigger as I backed toward the door to the house. I’d come straight from campus, and my laptop was inside. “No thanks.”

  I opened the door, and the alarm chimed. From somewhere in the house, a sultry beat played. I froze, suddenly on high alert.

  “Hunter,” a woman called out in a husky tone.

  He nearly skidded into me as I tried to back out of there as fast as possible. I grabbed my bag and darted for the door without looking at him. “Thanks for the ride!” My voice came out as a squeak.

  I’d expected him to chuckle, but he seemed just as eager for me to leave as I was. “You’re welcome,” he called, his eyes intent on the bedroom.

  Whoever she was, she’d been there waiting for him. Which meant…she had a key. Hunter never gave women a key to his place. Guess I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.