by Virna DePaul
“Yeah.” Shane chuckled. “It’s gone viral on the net.”
“W—what?” I choked. My mind raced, scrambled, trying to piece together the implications of this. Had someone taken a photo of me changing at the photo shoot? Had someone taken a photo of us when we’d been together? The former seemed more plausible, as Garrick looked utterly calm about the whole thing, meaning he couldn’t be in it. Then again, with a guy like him, a nude could only help, not hinder his reputation.
In a panic, I whipped out my phone, turned it on, and started searching. What would my father say? Unable to control my emotional upheaval, having only just survived having sex and ending a potential relationship in a matter of days, tears sprang to my eyes. I did have enough sense to keep them carefully concealed from the guys though.
In my mad rush to pinpoint the scandal, I suddenly became aware of snickering. Blinking rapidly to force away the tears, I looked up to find Garrick and Shane in a fit of hysterical laughter.
“You should have seen your face!” Shane exclaimed.
“Priceless, man. Priceless,” Garrick chimed in.
Sick, angry, though admittedly relieved, I jumped to my feet, whirled away from them, and stalked out of the makeshift cafeteria, battling tears. How could he do a thing like that? Had he been trying to get back at me? Did he tell Shane about our evening together? Was that why they had concocted this vicious little plan?
Furiously wiping my cheek, I made a beeline for my trailer. I would be taking a long lunch break and Lyle would just have to deal. Otherwise, I couldn’t promise that Garrick wouldn’t soon be sporting another black eye.
Chapter Seventeen
Garrick
“Nice going, Smooth Operator,” droned an unimpressed voice from behind us. Shane and I turned around to see Tyler holding a tray of chicken and avocado salad in his hands, staring us down like the Devil himself.
“What?” Shane asked, his chuckles yet to taper off. “It was just a prank.”
“Just a prank, huh?” he asked, less than convinced and judging us with every emotionless blink. “Have you ever seen something spontaneously combust, Garrick?”
My brows knitted together. “No.”
“You almost did just now. I guess you somehow missed that she nearly burst into tears when you told her?”
I balked. “It was just a joke.”
“Yes, indeed,” Tyler added. “A joke that could trash her entire image and infuriate her father, and potentially get her yanked out of the business had it been true.”
“Her father?” I echoed.
“Yeah. Mr. Universe? Remember him? I expected this from Shane, but not from you.”
“Hey,” Shane whined. “What gives? I play tricks like this on my sisters all the time.”
“Your father isn’t Gwen’s.”
I blinked rapidly. “Did she tell you something?”
“No,” Tyler stated flatly “I just noticed the way she’s constantly checking her phone, responding to a certain text tone, always dressing in conservative clothing, and staying out of the tabloids. I thought this was common knowledge. She refuses to go out, and won’t be seen with you. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and her dad is pretty hardcore from what I read online. There are even some rumors of abuse. I’m not sure if there is any stock to that. It could be vicious gossip from jealous neighbors. ”
“Abuse?” I sputtered. “You read up on her father?” I reiterated in disbelief. “When?”
“Somewhere between a MMRPG and the Sudoku championship. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a salad to eat.” With that, Tyler pivoted on his heel and stalked off to another table to eat his greens in peace.
“Shit,” I breathed. “I fucked up. I just fucked up so bad. I have to go apologize.”
Even Shane looked sheepish as he rubbed the nape of his neck, eyeing me uncertainly. “Can I come?”
“Later,” I assured him. “I have to do this on my own. You didn’t know, and I completely, completely should have.”
“You can tell her it was my idea,” Shane offered, his hand dropping to his bicep.
With a sidelong smile, I shook my head and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. But I’m just as much to blame. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to join.”
“I guess our objective was achieved,” Shane muttered, kicking at a pebble on the dusty ground.
“What do you mean?”
“We know a little more about her now.”
“Yeah. I suppose we do.” Spinning toward Gwen’s trailer, I trotted off after her.
Chapter Eighteen
Gwen
“Gwen!” Garrick’s voice called, along with the crunch of his Vans on the loose gravel.
“Go away,” I snapped coldly, ascending the steps to my trailer.
“Gwen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that through. I was so stupid. I promise I didn’t know about your dad.”
Shock scaled my spine. I whirled on him with a scowl of indignant accusation. “What do you mean by that?”
“Um, well…Tyler told me how strict your dad is. Even if he isn’t, I should have stopped and considered how this would affect you. I guess I was a little bitter about what happened this morning, and…” He pushed his hand back through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. Sincerity shone through them, giving me pause. “I have no excuse. I really don’t. I’m sorry. It was stupid. I swear I’ll never hurt you that way again.”
I stared at him.
After a moment of silence, he took a step forward and reached for my hand. Instinctively, I recoiled.
A flash of hurt crossed his face. “Why don’t you want to explore what we have? Why did you spend the whole weekend hiding from me? I know you felt something when we were together. I saw it in your eyes. I felt it too. You have to believe me.”
“I do,” I whispered.
“So, why?” he repeated.
I sighed in defeat, lifting my hand to massage the bridge of my nose. “It’s not that I don’t want to explore what we have, Garrick. It’s about the risk of doing so.”
He set his jaw, filled his chest, and planted his foot on the first step of my trailer. “Take a risk on me. Let me prove to you that it’s worth it to stick your neck out once in a while, to dive into uncharted waters.”
“Like you did today,” I reminded, tilting my head and quirking my eyebrow, lips set in a grim line.
Obviously ashamed, he shook his head. “I’ll never do something that idiotic again.”
And somehow, I believed him. “I guess… it was kind of funny,” I said, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. It would have been comical if my father hadn’t been borderline psychotic about the pristine repute of his only daughter. “It was Shane’s idea, wasn’t it?”
“What?” Garrick asked, guffawing. “You think I can’t come up with something as ingenious as that?”
“I have my doubts.”
He chuckled. So did I. “So…” he prompted. “About that risk.”
I drew in a deep breath. The prank, in spite of it being a prank, had actually significantly helped me see beyond my own fears. Confronted for the first time with what it would have been like to deal with scandal, I realized that it was something that, like the seasons, would pass.
My prudence and care to remain conservative assured me that any scandalous pictures would never come from my end, and would have to be completely the result of someone spying and overstepping their bounds as a photographer. My father wouldn’t have taken out his anger on me for that. He would have hunted down the perpetrator and gutted him or her like a fish.
Dating Garrick would certainly present a risk, but so long as we kept it between us, as he had been readily willing to agree to earlier that morning, things could be fairly safe. Besides, if I ever had the opportunity to have an intimate connection with Garrick again, how could I pass it up?
My eyes tracked over his handsome features as he seemed to wait with bated breath for my answer. Finally, I smil
ed and nodded. “Can I get that rain check you promised me?”
Chapter Nineteen
Garrick
The day I was finally able to take Gwen on the date came that Friday, the day after we started filming Episode Four of Straightlaced. We snuck away while the sound crew struck the set and the rest of the cast watched the editors fit the final frames into the reel. What Tyler said, the brief insertion about possible abuse, had been bothering the shit out of me, but I just didn’t know how to ask her. I was worried more than anything. I didn’t want to rush her, so I took her somewhere safe and open—somewhere she could escape, if she felt like she needed. Somewhere public, but quiet.
Taking Gwen’s hand, and Max’s car, we sped off to Starbucks, grabbed some coffee, and headed up to the overlook, the only place I could think to show Gwen that would not only give us privacy, but be beautiful as well. When we were almost there, Gwen turned to me. “So you said you can’t sing a lick, but I can’t imagine you not doing anything amazingly. How about singing me a few bars—just to prove you’re not being modest about the whole thing.”
I glanced at her, smiling at the teasing glint in her eye that matched her voice. “Sorry, no.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “That’s it? No? Come on, this is our first date.”
“That’s why I’m not going to sing. I don’t want it to be our last.”
“Please?”
“Nope,” I said with a grin. I reached out, grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles.
I could tell she liked the gesture. A lot. After giving a playful huff, she thankfully didn’t push the singing thing anymore. Thank God. Things were just looking up between us. I didn’t need to give her one more reason to see me as the lesser of our species…
At the overlook, I led her carefully down the embankment to the boulder where Erica and I had sat. The sun would be setting within the hour. I flashed her a grin.
“What do you think?” I asked, taking inventory of her expression as she looked out at the horizon, spotted with shrubs, evergreen plants, and more colors than a Picasso painting.
“Wow,” she breathed, her jewel-like green eyes tracking across the sunlit, scorched scenery. “It’s so picturesque. This is beautiful, Garrick.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” I countered with a squeeze to her hand.
She rolled her eyes with a beaming grin as I tugged her down to sit beside me on the smooth boulder.
“So,” she said, turning toward me a bit, our knees bumping up against one another. She glanced down at the contact and peered back up at me through her luscious black lashes, freckle-dusted cheeks tinted a light pink, unintentionally seductive in every way.
I swallowed dryly.
“So,” I parroted. I used to hate that word. But when she said it, it sounded like a symphony.
“Tell me about you,” she encouraged.
I shook my head. “Nah. I’ve had my fill of talking about myself for a while. I want to know about you.” Gently I bumped up against her shoulder. Was now a good time? “I know about your father now, and that he’s a little overbearing?”
She cringed, shrugging her shoulders. “That may be a bit of an understatement.”
Assuming a lopsided frown, I wondered if I had broached the wrong subject first. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“What?” she whispered, facing me with a startled expression.
I blinked. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” she corrected. “The part where you called me…”
“Baby?” I finished, tilting my head with an incredulous smirk on my face. Judging by her reaction, I’d be using it a lot more in the future.
“Yeah.” She stared at me as though dazed, the distant look on her face suggesting a visit to a memory. “You said it… as though you meant it.”
“I do.” I snorted playfully.
“You usually say it like a general term for all women.”
My eyebrows jumped up. “You’ve been keeping track of the way I say words?”
“Not really,” she muttered, followed by a lengthy sip of her coffee. I found my attention fixed on her throat, desperately desiring to lavish it with kisses. “It’s just easy to pick up when one of them changes.”
“You’re one in a million, Gwen. I’d never rope you in with all women.” With that, I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering as I felt her melt against me.
“You’re a lot different than I thought you’d be,” she whispered when the embrace ended.
“Why are we back on the subject of me?” I laughed.
Gwen’s smile thawed, mellowing out as she turned her attention to the horizon where the sun sat halfway dunked behind the distant mesas. “I was born in San Marino, California. I attended an all-girls Catholic school through high school.”
I let out a low whistle. “You suffering from the Catholic Schoolgirl Syndrome? Because I have a feeling I can help you with that.”
“Shut up, perv,” she joked with a giggle. “My first pet was a black lab named Destiny. I love dogs, Sephora, and shopping via catalogue. My guilty pleasures are Forever 21, The Big Bang Theory, and cheap costume jewelry.”
“Doesn’t seem all that bad to me. What about boyfriends, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She stiffened slightly. “I had a high school boyfriend, but that fizzled out soon enough. And after that…” She cleared her throat, looking decidedly uneasy. “I didn’t date much.”
“But?”
She glanced at me, her eyes suddenly filled with fear.
I cupped her cheek. “It’s okay. Tell me.”
“On Diamond Eyes. I got involved with my leading man. I—I—” She closed her eyes and shook her head in obvious self-disgust. “I believed him when he said his marriage was over. But it wasn’t.”
When I said nothing, she opened her eyes. I hated the fear I still saw there.
“So you made a mistake. Love makes us do stupid things.”
She swallowed hard. “What did it make you do?”
It was my turn to take a large gulp of my mocha, after which I took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. “It made me believe in a girl whose faithfulness was as fake as the rest of her.”
“You don’t still have feelings for her?”
I laughed harshly. “Feelings, yes. Good ones, no. I don’t want her in my life. I have no interest in her or her games.”
A look of relief washed over Gwen’s face. Reaching up, she hooked her glossy black-brown hair behind her ear and swept what remained over her shoulder, cascading down her back. I realized that I hadn’t told her everything the night we talked about my past. On top of leaving out the part about Dominic, I also conveniently forgot to mention that I had stood a week away from proposing to Rachel. However, those were not things she needed to know at the moment. The only time I would have to tell her one or both, to my nearest prediction, was if she ever came to meet my family. I had never brought a girl home after Rachel. My poor mother would probably die of shock.
I reached over, slipped my hand into Gwen’s, then leaned in and stole another kiss. She pulled me closer, giggling.
Chapter Twenty
Gwen
Still giddy from my date with Garrick the evening before, I grinned all the way to the hotel gym. When I got there, I took to the machines, clad in a sports bra and yoga pants. I’d also brought a light sports coat too—something I would don for my journey back up to my hotel room.
I never went overboard when it came to exercise. My father had always taught me that women should keep their feminine shapes and leave the heavy lifting to the men. However, I did light weight bearing exercise and a few miles on the treadmill to keep me fit.
Blissfully, I had the place to myself and could blast all the sappy, romantic music from my earbuds that I desired without the potential of being disturbed. I could replay the memories of the night before all I wanted and I did, making the warm blood pumping through my veins race faster and pool south. Once Garrick and I ha
d slipped back into Max’s car, we drove down to the foothills where we parked for another half an hour and fooled around.
It had been heaven.
After I finished running, I snatched my towel from the handlebar and wiped down the machine. To cool down, I did a few stretches in front of the wall-sized mirror. Even after a workout, I felt gorgeous. I felt gorgeous because whenever I closed my eyes, Garrick was smiling back at me, touching me with his mind, his hands, and his laughter.
I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Sorely in need of a shower, I slipped into my black sports jacket, glad I had thrown my hair up into a messy bun to avoid the sweat on my back. The jacket clung to me, feeling strangely cold and uncomfortable.
I took my keycard, towel, and water bottle and made my exit. On my way past the lobby, I heard a voice that grated on my nerves with unnatural effortlessness.
“Hi. I’m here to see Garrick Maze. Can you tell me which room he’s staying in?”
“I’m sorry, miss,” replied to concierge, “but we’re not allowed to give out the room numbers of our customers.”
My memory flashed back to the girl in the parking lot. I had to see this for myself. I crept across the hall in my sneakers and peered around the corner. Sure enough, standing at the receiving end of the front desk was the Barbie I had seen talking to Garrick.
Rachel, I recalled.
“Oh, he’s expecting me,” Rachel assured the suited man.
She’s expected? A pang of worry wormed its way into my chest. Garrick couldn’t still be seeing her, could he?
“Then I’m going to have to suggest you phone him and inquire, miss.”
“Admittedly, I don’t have his number. He told me to meet him here. May I call up to his room?”
I gritted my teeth together, rage radiating with the sweat of every pore.