Famous by Association

by Leddy Harper

  “You have ten more weeks of this, though. Do you really think this chick will keep it quiet for that long? She barely gave you a week before throwing this at you. I don’t even know who she is, and I can’t imagine she’s going to let this go. If she does, I don’t see her letting it go for long.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just hate leaving it up to someone else, you know? I’d feel much better if I knew what was coming and when. Waiting around for someone to comment—and praying it’s not another bombshell I’m not prepared for—is too much. I’m not a control freak by any means, but in situations like this, I really don’t want to be caught off guard again.”

  While she spoke, I finally got to see why she had picked off all the pepperoni and left the crusts behind. I watched in wonderment, consciously focusing on what she was saying, while she opened the crusts like hotdog buns and then stuffed them with the meat she’d removed from the pizza, making three pepperoni sandwiches.

  As much as I wanted to comment on that, I couldn’t veer away from the subject at hand. “What’s on your schedule? Is there anything planned that would put you and this woman’s husband in the same room?”

  Her eyes lit up as though a lightbulb had just come on in her head.

  Holding up a finger, she grabbed her phone and began to go through it. It was a rather comical sight—while her fingers frantically moved across the screen, her cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk’s, stuffed with the crust she’d quickly shoved into her mouth at my mention of her schedule.

  I knew exactly when she found what she was looking for, because she excitedly hummed around the mouthful of food. After quickly chewing and swallowing, she tapped her phone screen with wide eyes and said, “Jeannine is hosting a dinner party at her house next weekend.”

  “Well…there you go. There’s your opening.”

  As if I’d just slapped her across the face, she froze and stared at me with fear in her eyes. “That’s not a plan, though. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Nothing. Let that other chick do it all. You have to know that she will say something. If she’s anything like your sister, and if this show is at all what you say it is—a drama hungry production—then you have nothing to worry about. Let them do all the work. Just sit back and let it happen.”

  “Okay. But you better have your phone on you that night. And expect live updates.”

  I couldn’t have stopped the smile from crossing my face if I tried. She wanted me to be available for her that night, not Dave. I had no intention of ever taking Dave’s place in her life; I just wanted to know that if things progressed beyond this that she would be willing to give me a piece of that place that her best friend had occupied for so long.

  13

  Tasha

  “You’ve been there for over a month now. Please tell me that you’ve done the horizontal tango with Mr. Pool Boy.” Dave’s desperate voice filled my ear while I waited for the hired driver to pick me up.

  Seriously, I was capable of operating a car regardless of how expensive it was. It wasn’t like I suddenly forgot how to turn the wheel if the price tag had a few more zeros than I was used to. Yet Ty—probably following my sister’s orders—refused to give me the keys to any of the three vehicles in Tiffany’s garage. And forget about being allowed to use my own car. They laughed at that suggestion like I’d mentioned it to be funny. Apparently, Tiffany wouldn’t be caught dead in something that cost less than a house.

  “His name is Jacoby, and no, I haven’t. Not for lack of want, though.”

  “So what’s the problem? He doesn’t want to?”

  “I don’t know…I mean, I think he does, but it’s not like I’ve asked him. To be fair, it seems like every time the opportunity arises, Ty interrupts us somehow. Whether he stops by or calls with unsettling news, it’s like he has a radar to know when I’m about to get laid and then he kills the mood.” I genuinely wondered if he’d had cameras installed in the house, but when I mentioned that to Jacoby, he searched every room and came up empty handed.

  “Well, it’s like I always say—better to almost have sex with a guy than to dry hump four women.” His antics never got old. “Just promise me that you’ll at least stick your hand down his pants before you leave. The suspense is killing me.”

  I laughed, unsure if I should be proud or offended that my best friend thinks the guy I’m after is hot enough to fantasize about. “No worries, Dave. I’ve still got plenty of time to get that information for you.”

  If the house of cards didn’t come crashing down at Jeannine’s dinner party tonight.

  “And really,” I continued, as if a valid argument had just smacked me in the face, “it’s not like we’ve known each other for that long. Sure, I’ve been here for over a month, and sure, I met him on, like, day three. But you have to remember that he thought I was Tiffany for the first two weeks.”

  “Yeah, which means he’s known that you’re you for longer than he thought you were your sister.” He quietly counted to himself before resuming his excited voice to add, “That was nearly three weeks ago. Normally, you would’ve already gotten yours and blocked his number by now.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. “This is different, Dave.”

  “How so?”

  Even though I knew he’d ask me that, I had hoped he wouldn’t. Because I didn’t have a good enough reason—or, more like, I refused to accept the only reason that would be good enough. “I’m not interested in a situationship with Jacoby.”

  “Are you saying you want an actual relationship? The real deal?” Shock filled his tone.

  If I rolled my eyes any more or any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of my head. “I don’t know what I want, okay? I’m figuring that out. And to do so, I need time. There’s too much to figure out in a week or two. This will take longer than that, and before I make any decision, I want to make sure it’s the right one.”

  “Wow,” he whispered with heavy exaggeration. “I never thought I’d see the day. It’s like you’re growing up before my very eyes.”

  It wasn’t that I had anything against relationships or had some sort of commitment issue. The reason I didn’t date much was because there was really no one to date. Almost everyone I’d ever been interested in saw me as one of the guys. I was immediately friend-zoned before I ever had a chance at being more. Maybe if I played fewer video games, drank sparkling wine or mimosas instead of beer, and wore dresses or low-cut shirts instead of something more comfortable, then I wouldn’t be dismissed so quickly.

  That was probably my biggest problem with Jacoby. While he seemed to appreciate those qualities in me, there was a chance he only did so because he’d originally been under the impression that I was a celebrity who was widely known for being a materialistic snob. For all I knew, he’d been more impressed with the idea of Tiffany Lewis playing video games and drinking beer than an everyday woman doing the same. Not to mention, he hadn’t met the plain-Jane Tasha. He’d met the made-up version of me—bleached hair, fake tan, and expensive clothes. Things could drastically change after I went back home.

  “And this is why I haven’t said anything to you about it. I knew you’d give me a hard time.”

  “It’s like I always say, hard is always better than soft.”

  He made it physically impossible to be upset with him. “Yup, you’re right. You definitely always say that.” He’d never said that, but that didn’t matter. It was his way of proving to me that no matter how much he teased me, he was always there when I needed him…and even sometimes when I didn’t.

  “Have you ever thought that maybe I give you a hard time to test the waters?”

  I was so confused. “Test the waters for what?”

  “We live together in a small, two-bedroom apartment. And since this guy doesn’t even live here, there could potentially be a very real chance that he might come back with you. I’m simply preparing myself for any outcome. You know I don’t like to be surprised by things.” While he’d s
aid all that with a lighthearted tone, there was a lot of genuine concern within his words.

  I understood his apprehension and obsessive need to know every detail regarding my love life. However, I couldn’t help but wonder if a small part of him worried about how his role in my life would be affected if I had a serious boyfriend.

  Just then, before either of us were able to say anything else, the black SUV pulled up the driveway. “Hey, Dave, the car’s here. Let me call you back later—if not tonight when I get back, then tomorrow.”

  “Saved by the chauffeur. But if you forget to call me back, it’ll take more than a fancy driver to save you. Got it?” Regardless of how much he tried to sound tough, he could never pull it off. I knew he was a big softy at heart.

  “Sure thing, Dave. Bye,” I said and then disconnected the call.

  After slipping my cell into my clutch, I walked out and locked the front door behind me. I had to take slow, careful steps since Ty had decided to dress me in ridiculously high, super slim heels that made my feet wobble as I walked.

  Tonight’s forecast showed a high chance of breaking my neck.

  During the entire ride to Jeannine’s house—mansion—I couldn’t think about anything other than what tonight could bring. There were so many different scenarios running through my head that I couldn’t keep them all straight. And by the time the car pulled around her driveway to drop me off at the front door, I had prepared myself for the worst.

  “I’m so glad you made it!” Jeannine greeted me with a friendly hug, sounding as if there was a chance I wouldn’t show up. Yeah, I didn’t have that luxury. The schedule said to come, which meant I didn’t have a choice.

  Either I felt horrible for her or—nope, I definitely felt horrible for her, there were no ors. I returned her hug and offered a genuine smile, hoping she couldn’t read too much into it. “Well, thank you for the invite. You have such a beautiful home.”

  “Oh, don’t act like you’ve never seen it before,” Serenity said, coming up behind me.

  I turned around, which made room for the socialite to join us. But while I stared at her in anticipation of what would come, she simply smiled between Jeannine and me. Maybe she suffers from a multiple personality disorder. I quickly shook off that thought, knowing it to be false. The truth was, I was standing next to the only person who could take Tiffany down. I just wished she’d take the real Tiff down, not the impersonator.

  I was an innocent bystander in all this.

  “What do you mean? I’ve never been here.” Ty had sworn to me that my sister had never gone to Jeannine’s house—or any of the other girls’ homes for that matter. So her statement had truly caught me off guard.

  Jeannine focused her attention on Serenity, studying her like she expected her to grow a second head at any moment. “Yeah, what are you talking about? We just moved in three months ago. We haven’t had any guests over other than family. This is our first gathering here.”

  With wide eyes and gaping mouth, Serenity placed a hand over her chest and feigned innocence. “Oh, my apologies. One of my good friends lives just down the street, and she said she’s seen Tiffany’s car here several times.”

  My heart sank. If Jeannine had just moved in, and Serenity’s friend had seen my sister’s car in the driveway as recently as right before her trip to Mexico, that meant the affair wasn’t quite as old as Tiffany and Ty had said it was.

  “Maybe it was a car that looked like mine.”

  She laughed and gently held my bicep, as if holding onto me had somehow prevented her from falling over in hysterics. “Yeah, maybe. Although, to be fair, you are the only one in this area who drives a Bugatti, much less the Bugatti Chiron. I highly doubt she confused another car for yours.”

  I purposely avoided eye contact with Jeannine. Heck, I didn’t even cut my eyes to my right, unsure if she was looking my way or not. So instead, I kept my attention on Serenity and her smug grin that gave me the creeps.

  Last week, I had wanted to out my sister and even brainstormed with Jacoby on ways to do just that without it backfiring on me. In theory, it was the right thing to do. She shouldn’t be able to get away with the heinous things she did. However, now that I was here, on the cusp of Tiffany’s dirty little secret getting exposed, I wanted to shut it down.

  I didn’t care what my sister thought of Jeannine, or what she had to say about her. From what I could tell in the short amount of time I’d spent with her, she was a good person who didn’t deserve any of this. Granted, she definitely didn’t deserve to be married to a man who’d sleep with someone else, but that was between them. It was not my place to potentially ruin her life. Then again, there was a small chance that she already knew but had made the decision to keep it quiet.

  However, if that were the case, I doubted she’d give me such welcoming hugs.

  Before I could say anything else to dismiss Serenity’s claim, Jeannine rolled her eyes and waved her off. “I don’t know what your friend thinks she saw, but it wasn’t Tiffany’s car. Okay? She said she hasn’t been here, and I know I haven’t had her over. So just drop it.”

  The one thing I had on my side was the fact that I’d truly never been to this house before. Which meant that when Jeannine took me on a tour of her eight-bedroom mansion, my awe and amazement were genuine and believable.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Lauren asked once we made it back to the group.

  All I could do was nod; gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe the opulence I’d just seen.

  “Well, it took a lot longer to complete than it was supposed to, but we can’t complain. It’s everything we’ve ever wanted—in a great neighborhood, near terrific schools, and offers the kind of security a mother needs to feel safe at home with her kids. This is our forever home. I’m just happy it’s finally finished and everything’s settled.”

  “We’re so happy for you,” Lauren said for all of us with a sincere smile on her face.

  Just seeing the pride on Jeannine’s face and the love in Lauren’s eyes twisted my stomach into knots. And the more the night dragged on, the worse the feeling became. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and excused myself from the dinner table. I found the nearest restroom and immediately began to type out a message.

  Me: In case you were wondering how my night’s going…I’m currently locked in a bathroom.

  I put my head in my hands and took several deep breaths, hoping it would calm my racing heart and uneasy stomach. It might’ve worked, had my phone not vibrated in my lap. Even though I had pretty much expected a response, it startled me anyway, making my heart beat faster and my stomach clench tighter.

  Jacoby: Did you lock yourself in there, or did someone else?

  At least he was able to inject some humor into the situation.

  Me: I did. Everyone’s eating, but I’m too sick to my stomach to eat anything. Which totally sucks because it looks like really good food. And it smells really good too.

  Jacoby: What happened? You’re being too vague.

  With a sigh, I began to give him the shorthand version so far, not having enough time to go through it all. He’d have to wait until I got home if he wanted the full story.

  Me: Serenity definitely knows who my sister was sleeping with. But Mike (Jeannine’s hubby) isn’t here, so if Serenity spills the beans tonight, all it’d do is hurt Jeannine. She doesn’t deserve that. I don’t know Mike, but if he’s been sleeping with Tiff, then he deserves to pay the piper, but either way, Jeannine is innocent in all of this and shouldn’t be the one taking the brunt of it.

  Jacoby: Where’s Mike?

  Me: IDK. Not here tho. It’s just us girls.

  Jacoby: I don’t even know who this chick is, but from what you’ve said about her, I doubt she’ll throw you under the bus in front of such a small group of people. She seems to be the type who would opt for a bigger crowd. More people = more drama.

  Me: Good point.

  Jacoby: Plus, if she was going to out you tonight, I’m
pretty sure she would’ve already done it.

  Me: I’m just scared she’s going to say something at the dinner table, which is why I’m hiding out in the bathroom. Well…that and to text you.

  Jacoby: You can’t sit on the crapper all night. You have to leave eventually.

  Me: I’ll just tell them that I have IBS. No skin off my nose.

  He sent a bunch of laughy face emojis.

  Me: Fine. I’ll go back to the table, but if this blows up in my face tonight, I’m blaming you.

  Jacoby: If that happens, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

  I had no idea what he had in mind, but if it was another sensual foot massage, then I’d have nothing to complain about. And once that thought crossed my mind, I couldn’t shake the memory of his hands and the physical reaction my body had to them.

  Thankfully, the erotic thoughts of Jacoby rubbing down the rest of my body—a bit of oil on my back, maybe a few candles lit, some music softly playing in the background—that filtered through my mind was enough to keep me sane for the rest of dinner. Granted, it prevented me from partaking in the majority of the conversations going on around the table, but that was okay with me. My only goal was to make it out of there alive.

  And that was exactly what I did.

  The table hadn’t even been cleared before I pushed my chair back and stood. “Dinner was amazing, Jeannine. Thank you again. Really. I had a fabulous time with you ladies tonight.”