“Maybe it’s just that they love you so much. They want you happy and they feel powerless to help make it so. That’s why women hover, you know. Because they’re in a situation they want to make better and can’t find anything to do to make that happen.”
His silence was more off-putting on the phone than it would be in person, where she could see his expression. “Are you thinking, or refusing to engage in this conversation any further?”
“I don’t do that.” His petulant tone made her smile.
“Of course you do that. All the time. It’s quite infuriating, you know.”
His chuckle set her world straight again.
“I’ve made a decision,” she told him. It was the reason she’d called.
“About what?” There was that tension in his voice again. But she wasn’t going to be distracted. Or let the conversation switch back to her pushing him to tell her what was wrong. She’d get there before they hung up. But, first...
“Giving Bo a key.”
That silence again. Sometimes she hated this long-distance friendship thing. Not that she could have dashed out of the studio to meet him for a quick meal even if he’d been in town.
“I’m not going to.” There. She’d made it official. Signed and sealed and ready to be delivered just as soon as she got off work. She’d told Bo she was too busy to be distracted with a visit from him at the studio that afternoon. He’d be meeting her at her place after work. Bringing her dinner instead of making it for her.
“You’re not.”
“No.”
“Why not?” What, he thought she should?
“Because when I closed my mind to the cacophony around me and just listened to myself, I found out that I didn’t want to.”
“Okay. Good.”
That was it? She’d made a magnanimous decision, one she’d never have had the guts to make a year ago, and he just said good?
“It’s probably going to make him mad,” she explained. “He’s friends with everyone who’s anyone. It will be the first time I’ve had a real enemy in my intimate circle. He’s the only one from my tribe who’s been really supportive of my lifestyle changes and...”
“If you want to give him a key, maybe you should.”
Wasn’t he listening? She shook her head. Michael was usually such an incredible listener. Usually he got her.
“I don’t want to.” Now she was the one sounding petulant. She lay back against the couch, staring at the polish on her toes. Bright red with a hint of maroon. The shade was good on her.
“Okay, then, don’t.”
“I’m not.”
That was it. She was done talking to him about it. He knew she’d made the choice. She had someone to answer to so she wouldn’t get weak and change her mind in the moment.
“I’m glad.” Did he sound relieved?
Kacey sat up. “You are?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it against her bones as she leaned forward.
“You didn’t sound ready.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“If you felt so strongly about it, why didn’t you say something sooner?” She’d given him opportunity that morning.
“I didn’t feel strongly about it.” He was tense again. She needed to get to whatever it was that was eating at him today. Fearing that it might be bad news about her photographer, she pushed the thought away for another couple of seconds. “Your choices are yours to make,” he added.
“As my friend, one I trust, you’re supposed to tell me what you think. Just like I tell you what I think about things you do or should do.”
She did. Every single time they got together. Like when she’d told him that he should ask out one of the ex-residents of the Stand whom he’d befriended. He’d insisted that he was just helping her get her computer system set up, but Kacey had thought there was more. It turned out the woman had a boyfriend already, but how was Kacey to know that?
She’d also told him he should have his family over for dinner—all of them together—and if he’d do that, they’d start to accept that he was absolutely fine. She’d offered to help him prepare the dinner—and to skedaddle if he didn’t want her around.
He’d said he’d think about that one—and had been thinking for about two months now.
“I can’t pretend to know what’s best for you,” he said now. “And I’m not going to be responsible for you making a decision that ultimately results in disaster.”
“Phaw!” she spat and immediately wiped her bottom lip and chin so as not to muss her makeup. “You know me better than most of my friends, Michael.” There was passion in her tone, but then she was still at work. She just hadn’t turned it off yet.
And his comment had hurt her.
“It’s not like I’m some bimbo who’s going to blindly do whatever you say, oh, master,” she continued on. “But hearing an opinion I trust, having it to mull over, as I consider what to do, is something I want. Something I thought you and I had going on...”
“Point taken.”
Good.
“I think Bo might break up with me.”
“I doubt it.”
Okay, then. He’d meant it when he said he got her point. Grinning, regardless of the fact that they were discussing such a serious topic, she asked, “Why do you say that?”
“You look in a mirror lately, Kace?” His droll tone ran down inside her to places Michael wasn’t supposed to go. And on those rare occasions when he did, she quickly pushed those feelings away.
“You think Bo’s superficial,” she guessed.
“I have no idea if he is or not. But I know you’re smart and funny and kind. You’re a rush to be around. You bring life to any party—and you said he likes to party. You’re also beautiful and successful and famous and rich and...”
Kacey reached for her water bottle and almost dropped it. She hadn’t realized she was trembling.
Michael was clearly aware of her desirability. Just... He was clearly aware of it. Somehow she couldn’t get beyond that thought.
“Well...”
“I could be wrong,” he said before she could form a coherent sentence in her mind, or out loud. “I don’t want you walking into this expecting him to be fine with it and be shocked if he does break up with you.”
More relationship advice than she’d ever received from Michael.
She latched on to his last words. “I’m not going to be shocked,” she told him. “I’ve made my decision knowing full well I could lose him over it.”
A firm rap sounded on her door. She had fifteen minutes. Ten before someone came in to check her hair and makeup.
Holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear—she didn’t want to put it on speaker and risk being heard from the other side of the wall—she slipped out of her robe, grabbed the skintight leggings with built-in panty liner and pulled them on, her breasts right there in the open.
With Michael on the other end of the line. She looked in the mirror. Sweat drops popped out on her upper lip.
Which was definitely not okay.
“So...why have you been tense all day?” She didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but figured it was better than anything else that could have slipped out. With her back to the mirror, she yanked the leggings up a little farther.
“If I promise to tell you about it another time, will you let it go for now?”
Over her thighs and across her backside. “As long as you admit it wasn’t the coffee.”
“It was not the coffee. Frankly, I’m not sure what it was. I’ve been irritated since I got out of bed this morning.”
In her experience with men, that meant one thing. Michael needed sex.
She reached for
the black-and-white leopard-patterned top with built-in cups. It hugged every part of her as she slid it over her head and down past her thighs. Her nipples were hard.
She’d been naked and cold, that’s why. And she only had five minutes to get the lace-up black leather boots in place before she was descended upon.
She heard footsteps in the hallway.
“I don’t have any good news to report,” Michael was saying, as though he thought that was the reason for her call. “Last night’s photo was posted from the same shop as the first. But it could have been remotely. The shop’s not open at three in the morning. It also could have been scheduled earlier to post at that time.”
The coffee shop was just down the street from her. How creepy was that? He said it was possible someone had hacked her over public Wi-Fi.
“I haven’t been at the shop at all this week,” she told him, expecting to be interrupted any second and needing more time with him.
“Doesn’t matter. If that’s what happened, they got what they needed the first time.”
“So...can we get a look at the footage from security cameras?” She was in television. She knew the ropes back and forth and sideways, too. “Not without a warrant,” she said before he could. “But can we get one?”
“No real harm’s been done, Kace.” His tone was sympathetic, but firm. “The police aren’t going to be able to do anything at this point. And you risk tipping off whoever is behind this. We might never figure it out.”
She absolutely didn’t want that.
“Can I call you later?” she asked. That was what she did want.
“Of course.”
“And...Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be in town all weekend...my folks are there with Levi, remember? Can we, maybe...squeeze in a meet?”
They always did when she was in town. They’d just never actually made an appointment to make it happen before. Never set it in stone.
“I’ll be here all weekend,” he said.
A knock and then her door flung open. Her time was up.
She finished the call, way too aware that he still hadn’t been willing to set their meeting in stone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“HE DIDN’T BREAK up with me.”
Mike wanted to be happy when Kacey phoned late that night.
And he was. Happy for her. Sitting at his desk at home, he’d been working, not waiting for her call. She’d said she’d call later, but he didn’t hold her to anything.
The fact that she was calling him must mean that Neanderthal had gone home, and he was happy about that.
For her sake.
She’d said she wanted his opinion on things.
He’d love to tell her why he didn’t like a guy he’d never met. And maybe he would. If he knew.
Problem was, he couldn’t put his finger on anything really wrong with the man, other than he wasn’t working. Mike got that he was auditioning—that an actor’s life wasn’t run-of-the-mill and ran by different codes. Clearly the man had money put aside—his last stint had been hugely successful.
But still, a guy should have a worthwhile endeavor to get up for every day.
Mike was being punitive. Small-minded.
Judgmental.
He knew it. Didn’t like it. Vowed to stop. Immediately.
“He said that he was willing to wait until I was ready,” she was saying. “That he doesn’t want to pressure me.”
Love shouldn’t be about feeling pressure.
He kept his mouth shut.
“He brought fish tacos for dinner.”
Mike didn’t know she liked them. They weren’t his favorite.
“I don’t like fish tacos, but didn’t have the heart to tell him. He bought them at a food truck down the street and they’re famous for fresh and healthy food. He knows I’m always watching what I eat.”
She liked French fries. That was what he knew. The Kacey who visited Santa Raquel liked French fries.
He didn’t pretend to know the side of her that she took to Beverly Hills every week.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
No more than usual. “I like listening to you.” Truth. The kind of thing that made her feel good and go on talking.
“I like listening to you, too, and right now that’s what I’d like to do,” she said, throwing a wrench in his gears. That seemed to be happening more and more lately.
He’d never known anyone like Kacey. Not the actress part. But also not the part where she stuck in his mind. Where his life was brighter with her in it.
The part where he questioned himself. Before Kacey he’d pretty much had himself, his life, his family, all figured out.
“Tell me why you were so tense today.”
Not that again. Diane had asked him the same thing when she’d called to see if he wanted to join her and Ben at a private wine tasting that night at the home of a local vintner. He’d received a personal invitation. Tanner Malone was well known around the Lemonade Stand, as was his little sister, Tatum, who, at fifteen, had sought refuge at the shelter.
Mike rarely accepted such invitations, as Diane well knew, and that night had been no different.
“It was something confidential,” he heard himself say softly into the phone as he stared at the photo of the ocean that was his home screen, giving Kacey the same response he’d come up with for his sister.
It had worked earlier.
He was feeling fairly confident he’d slide by a second time.
“What does that mean, confidential?”
Diane had assumed it had to do with the Lemonade Stand. Kacey was someone he knew through the Stand. He’d let the assumption remain and the conversation with his sister had moved to neutral ground.
Kacey was privy to any and all Lemonade Stand confidentialities. She’d been vetted and approved for full clearance.
“I have confidentiality agreements with a lot of my clients,” he improvised. True. And while she wasn’t paying him, he was doing professional work for her.
Her. Kacey. Why did he think of her every time he tried to explain the day’s surly behavior?
The answer was right there. He didn’t want to see. He closed his eyes but it refused to fade.
He’d been afraid she was going to give Bo a key.
Like a little kid, he’d been jealous that his friend was going to be better friends with someone else.
That was completely ludicrous and unacceptable.
Of course she was closer to Bo. The man was her boyfriend and on track to become her life partner.
He didn’t even want the position. Didn’t envy the LA lifestyle at all. Feelings were irrational sometimes. He’d learned that somewhere along the meandering trail of counseling he and his family had been through over the past ten years. The trick was to sort out those feelings that were not reliable and then give them as little credence as possible.
To focus on them was to give them life.
So he’d ignore them.
Be her friend.
And enjoy a good life.
* * *
KACEY CALLED MICHAEL again Thursday night—late. Her folks were in bed, Levi had been asleep for hours and she was sitting outside in the garden oasis she’d given her sister, along with her Arizona room, for a birthday present the year before. Rather, she’d pushed it on her, to get her to admit that she had feelings for Jem, the contractor in her life.
She’d had a text from Michael the previous day—just telling her there were no new pictures or activity on the hacked account. She’d been at the studio until after eight and then out to dinner with friends—a date Bo had arranged—and home too late to call him back.
Not that he’d have expected her to do s
o.
She’d just wanted to.
If she wasn’t careful, Michael was going to become more of an addiction to her than alcohol had ever had a chance to be.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Am I interrupting something?” she asked immediately. He’d have seen her name on his screen. He’d have known it was her before he decided to answer. But still, he sounded...odd.
“No,” he said. “What’s up?” He sounded brusque. Or...winded?
Oh. God. Was he with a woman? The thought should have occurred to her. You didn’t call a guy late without first knowing that he’d be alone.
“Nothing,” she said, embarrassed. Hot. Bothered. And...sad, too. “We can talk tomorrow,” she added quickly.
“Now’s fine, Kacey. What’s up?”
“It really was nothing. I’m just sitting here with a glass of wine and... I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how late it was. I expect too much of you, Michael. Take advantage. I’m just...”
“Kacey!” He’d raised his voice to her. Staring at the phone, Kacey almost hung up. Except that she was so shocked, she had to find out what came next.
“Yeah?” The word was tentative. She glanced at the phone screen again, as though some message would appear. She needed to ask him if he did FaceTime. Or Skype. But she knew the answer. FaceTime was the last thing Michael wanted.
And the next thing she was going to nag him about...
Maybe. If he still wanted to be friends with her.
“I’m glad you called.”
Funny how a stomach could go from sick to sickly happy in the space of four words.
“I really was being selfish.” She didn’t want him to feel—as Lacey had all those years—that she was taking him for granted. Didn’t want to take advantage of him as she’d unknowingly done to her sister. “Nothing’s really up. Mom and Dad are asleep in Jem and Lacey’s room while they’re away. Levi’s asleep in his.”
Her Secret Life Page 9