The Secret Arrangement

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Just relax, Jessica,” he murmured in my ear.

  Right, easy for you to say.

  I fought the urge to dig in my heels as Luke wheeled me toward a coterie of drunken WASPs.

  “Luke! We heard you were here,” one of them exclaimed. “None of us could believe it.”

  The man who spoke had mouse-colored hair, slicked back over his shiny head. His bright blue eyes were the same as Luke's. He was slim and his suit impeccably tailored; his patent leather shoes gleamed in the light. Hanging on his arm was a blonde woman who reminded me of Victoria Beckham, her thin arms looking like they could snap at any second. She smiled at me as her gaze dragged up and down my outfit and my arm shook against Luke's.

  “Justin, Barbara—this is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

  They wrung my hand and acted as though they were delighted to meet me. Barbara snatched hers away from me as though she was afraid that she would somehow be contaminated.

  She leaned in, her eyes glossy and her lips shining. “When Luke’s in the papers, he always has someone new on his arm. We were surprised that you two have stayed together for so long—”

  “Barbara!” snapped Justin impatiently. He fixed me with a pained expression. “Sorry, she’s had too much to drink.”

  "No worries." Inwardly, my heart beat a violent tattoo on my chest. I was never so uncomfortable in my life. For the first time, I missed home. I wanted to collapse onto my sofa and watch TV with Natalie. They were well dressed and clutching glasses of champagne I'm sure cost a small fortune, and I was just planted in the middle of it. I felt like everyone was gathering around to gawk at the alien who had somehow entered their exclusive club. I did not belong here.

  I could practically hear Barbara’s brain whirring as she leaned in curiously. Why hasn’t he kicked her to the curb by now? Is she pregnant?

  “How did you two meet?”

  I stiffened. I couldn’t imagine giving them the same story I had told Brandon, but my mind was blank.

  “We met in a bar.” Luke glanced at me.

  “Oh.”

  I wished he hadn’t said that. I watched as Barbara buried a small smile and exchanged a glance with her husband. Now, it made sense. They filed me away into a category they knew well. Perhaps I was very exciting in bed, but I was Luke’s new fling.

  “I heard that you’ve been visiting my father.”

  Oh Christ, not this again. I tried not to fix my heated eyes on Luke.

  Justin shrugged good-naturedly. “Yeah. I thought I should. He seems to enjoy our visits.”

  Luke took two glasses of bubbling champagne and offered one to me. “I’m glad you’re both getting something out of them. Please excuse us.”

  I was shocked at the unrestrained spite in Luke’s voice. Didn’t he know how to fake politeness?

  Justin sneered at Luke's back as he turned around. His wife whispered in his ear, and they laughed as they looked at me. The hairs on my neck stood up.

  “Is everybody here a jerk?”

  “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

  “I haven’t felt like this since sixth grade.”

  He laughed.

  I didn’t point out he, in fact, was the one who started it. I went along as Luke painstakingly introduced me to all the guests, who were all so unfailingly polite that my jaw felt wired shut with a permanent grin. These were not people who would be rude in front of your face. As Luke talked to his relatives, I hung back with my half-empty glass of champagne, my eyes occupied with the paintings that adorned the walls and groaning whenever I checked the time.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me! Hey!”

  A veined hand encircled by gold bracelets waved in front of my face, snapping its fingers. I looked at its owner, who was a woman in her late fifties who I did not recognize. She glared at me as though I was something under her shoe. What the hell did she want?

  She thrust an empty champagne glass in my hand. “Take this away.”

  Stunned, I took it and looked from her to the glass and back again. What had just happened?

  “Why are you standing there?”

  Several of her friends turned around to glare at me, but I still had no fucking idea what was going on.

  “Um—you want me to take this?”

  A few of them giggled behind her as they gawked at me, and I felt like I transported back to middle school. She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, Charlie Brown. You’re hopeless.”

  The glass ripped out of my hands so violently that her manicured nails actually scratched me. I yelped in pain and Luke swept in out of nowhere.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “This one doesn’t seem to be doing her job.” She gestured toward me with contempt laced in every syllable.

  Doing her job—what?

  Then I realized it with a horrible, sinking feeling. I was dressed so poorly that this woman thought I was the help. My face felt like it was on fire. I turned away and bit my lip.

  “This is Jessica, my girlfriend,” he said with a little anger in his voice. “She’s not an employee.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. I’m so sorry—”

  Realizing her blunder, she reached out toward me, her claw-like fingers patting me on the shoulder. She couldn’t see my face, or my eyes, which were shining with tears. Luke did, and he steered me away from them.

  We shoved through a throng of people and headed toward a glass door. I hoped no one had seen the exchange.

  “Let’s just go outside.”

  We were in a small, side garden. It was lit up with golden, paper lanterns. I growled in frustration. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to hold it together.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

  Luke sidled up to me and stroked my arm.

  My lips were shaking as I looked at him. “I’m so embarrassed."

  "Don't be. They're the ones who should feel ashamed."

  "I don’t belong here at all.” I couldn’t erase her expression from my mind. “She looked at me like I was—trash.” I used to be bullied for wearing used clothes from the Salvation Army, and it was the same hopelessness.

  “You can’t let it get to you. I get ripped apart every day in the press. You have to let it roll off your shoulders.”

  I bent down as the glare from the porch lights illuminated the ugly marks on my shoes. I scrubbed them with my fingers, but they refused to come off. “That’s different. They’re your family. I care about what they think about me.”

  “I don’t even like them. What does it matter?”

  His hands encircled my forearms and tugged, but I refused to budge. “Stop it, I’m not finished!”

  “Jessica.”

  The kindness in his voice made me want to cry. I thought of how stupid I looked, hunched on the cement in this cheap dress, scrubbing at a spot on my shoes. It wouldn’t make any difference. Even if I spent thousands on a wardrobe, I would never be like them.

  Luke's firm grip supported me as I stood. “I don’t care what they think, why should you?”

  The dark blue and gold garden blurred. I blinked away the tears. “But you do care. We changed my background story so I would fit in—but I don’t.”

  He sighed. “It would influence my father’s opinion of you in a bad way. That’s the only reason we did that.”

  His fingers slipped down my bare back, and I curled into his chest, sliding my hand inside his jacket to grip the muscles in his back. His chest swelled into my body, and I closed my eyes, thinking only about how safe I felt in his embrace. A vicious heat seared up my core as his fingers moved in tantalizing circles on my skin.

  “Just stay close and it’ll be over soon.”

  And then we’ll be alone.

  A loud buzz filled my ears, and I jumped in Luke’s arms. It was coming from my purse. I opened it and snapped open my phone:

  Call me now -Nat

  I blinked at the message, curiosity burning in my stomach. Whatever Natalie had to tell me would
have to wait.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded, and we walked toward the brightly lit house, the noise and light spilling into the garden as he opened the glass door for me. I spotted the hag who had bitched at me and felt a strong surge of anger, but I kept my eyes fixed forward.

  “Let’s find my uncle.”

  My guts twisted as I nodded. I had wiped my hand before I took Luke's again. He led me through a succession of rooms toward the sound of piano playing. We walked into a living room with a huge ceiling. A crowd of people gathered around the white grand piano, where an older man sat, his fingers flying over the keys.

  He was a thin, reedy man with a wiry black mustache. Domenico jumped from the piano seat as he saw Luke approach. “Luke!” He grabbed his nephew by the shoulders and kissed both of his cheeks.

  “Happy Birthday, Uncle Dominic.”

  “Thanks. I’m so happy that you could make it.”

  The display of affection shocked me. His uncle gripped his shoulder, unwilling to let go of his nephew. Luke introduced me with a wave of his free arm.

  “So, this is the girl I’ve seen in the papers.” He winked at me and shook my hand. “We’re so glad you could come.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I beamed.

  “When did you fly in?”

  “Today, actually.”

  “Jesus, you must be tired.” The fabric on Luke’s shoulder bunched together as his hand tightened. Domenico’s face crumpled as he wheeled him away from the crowd of people. “You haven’t seen your dad yet, have you?”

  I tensed as a frown creased on Luke’s forehead. Please don’t blow up at him.

  “We did.”

  “He’s taken a sharp turn for the worse. I found out from James that he tried to fire you.”

  Luke made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Yes, he did.”

  "Listen, I blocked it. He may be a board member, but he can only work in a limited capacity, and it's clear that his judgment is off his rocker. You're a great employee, no matter how many soccer fans you beat up. The San Francisco deal you got for us is brilliant, and you'll always have a job at Pardini Worldwide. It's your birthright, and I won't let him do this to you."

  Uncle Dominic patted him on the back as Luke pinched the bridge of his nose, his face screwed up in pain. I dug my nails into my palms as I watched him fight to keep his emotions from bursting out. The person who he wanted to hear those words from would never do it.

  “I love my brother, but he hasn’t been himself lately. No matter what, you will get what belongs to you. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Dominic.”

  “I know it’s been hard dealing with your dad, but he won’t be around much longer. Promise me you’ll visit him more often.”

  A sour look crossed Luke's face, but it softened when heard his uncle's voice crack. "I will."

  He gave him a smile and one final pat on the back, and then he walked back toward the piano. “Who wants to hear ragtime?”

  A volley of cheers and whistles blasted across the room, and I looked away as Luke wiped his eyes with his thumb. I took his hand and squeezed it. "Everything will work out." I slipped my hand into my purse and muted my phone. It had been buzzing all night. What did Natalie want?

  “We can turn in early. My uncle will understand.”

  I nearly collapsed in relief. “Really? That’d be great.”

  Though it was only seven, I was exhausted, and I thought longingly of the bed upstairs with its fluffy, white comforter. Luke and I went upstairs, and I curled into bed as Luke took a shower. All was well. Luke’s uncle seemed like a decent man. I clawed the nightstand for the remote. I wanted to fix my mind on something else before I fell asleep. My thumb clicked the buttons, scrolling through the channels as my eyeballs burned from the bright, plasma screen. Jessica Knight. I stopped as I saw my name blazing on the television screen with an old picture of Luke and I kissing in Hyde Park.

  How did they find out my name?

  A blonde woman smiled at the camera. “Today, we’ve received an exclusive report about the Luke Pardini’s new girlfriend, or should we say, his escort.”

  The remote clattered on the wooden floor.

  “Jessica?” Luke’s voice said from the bathroom. “What was that?”

  "Jessica Knight, a graduate of San Francisco State University, signed up on an escort website for rich men to make ends meet. The beautiful blonde caught the eye of Luke Pardini, son of Giacomo Pardini and heir to Pardini Worldwide."

  “Hey, are you there?”

  My eyes were glued to the television as horror suffocated my chest. How did they find out all this? I told no one—absolutely no one. Neither of us had. The bathroom door opened, and steam poured in the bedroom. I heard Luke's heavy footsteps and dreaded the moment he would see the screen.

  “Jessica, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He looked at the screen and fell silent.

  “At TMZ, we wondered who the mysterious blonde and where she was from, check this out—”

  The screen faded into a view of a dilapidated porch of a house that I knew very well. On it were three people: a fat blonde woman and her husband, and squeezed between them was their son, Vincent.

  A reporter held a microphone to them. “She was a difficult child, but we did the best we could. We had her for seven years, and then she left to join a group home. We never saw her again.”

  Shelly Kramer leaned in, her watery, small eyes staring into the camera. “She had a major drug problem, behavioral issues.” She shook her head. “Always acting out.”

  Vincent smiled at the camera. He had gained weight, but nothing else had changed. His white-blonde hair still hung around his head at shoulder-length. He had charmed and fooled so many people with his angelic face, but a close look into his eyes was like staring into the abyss.

  I didn't hear the rest of the program. The violence surged up my throat, and I shoved Luke aside to flip open the toilet seat, and I voided everything I ate at the party. The man who haunted my thoughts for years was blown up on the television, unpunished—along with my foster parents.

  “Jessica, you’re safe.”

  My lip quivered as my stomach still clenched with nausea. All it took was a short video of my attackers to shatter the delusion that I had moved on. That I was fixed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

  He held me. I was boiling in pain, and I didn't want to do it anymore. When will I be free of them? I wanted to break away from Luke and sob in private, but he refused to let me go. I felt ashamed. It was as though my tears were indecent that I should hide them like everything in my past.

  “How did they find out my name?” I said in a shaking voice. “How did they find out all of it?”

  “Someone told them your name, address, everything. They sold a story about you.”

  His deep voice rumbled through my chest. I shook my head. “No, I told no one about us. I swear, Luke!”

  Except Natalie.

  I froze in Luke’s arms.

  Natalie, how could you do this?

  The betrayal was like a slap to the face. How could she tell them about my foster parents? Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks, and as Luke pulled away, there was sympathy in his expression, but a little anger, too.

  “She would never do this to me.”

  He smiled without humor. “Just about anyone is capable of just about anything. I’ve had this happen countless times.” He stroked my hair. “I’m sorry about this. I know how it feels, believe me.”

  The horror of it all pounded in my brain. I dug into my purse and opened my cell phone and saw three texts:

  You need to call me immediately

  Don’t let Luke go on TMZ

  Jessica, I swear I didn’t tell anyone

  Five missed calls and two messages. I played them both on speakerphone. Luke listened beside me, fury etched all over his face. The first message expressed her confusion, the second one was clearer.
/>
  "Jessica," she said in a trembling voice. "I found out what happened. Ben saw the photos and called TMZ. They offered him a lot of money for your name and background, and then they got your foster parents, and they said all of those terrible things." She sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Jessica. I don't think he meant for any of this to happen—"

  Her voice vanished as I ended the message. Somehow I felt emptier than I had before. My best friend's fiancé sold me out, all because she couldn't keep her trap shut. I looked at him. "I never told Ben anything. Natalie had known about the website before I met you, so she must have blabbed to him. She wasn't supposed to say anything!"

  Luke shook his head and shrugged. He wouldn’t even look at me. “I’m going to bed.”

  Darkness swallowed the room as Luke turned off the light. I sat on the carpet, hugging my legs.

  I woke up with my back aching as Luke shook me awake, his hand on my knee. It took several moments for me to remember why I felt so awful.

  His hands stroked my shoulders. “Did you stay here all night?”

  My eyes burned with fatigue. “I—didn’t think you wanted me around.”

  Luke’s face was pained. “I was angry, but not at you.” He picked me up and kissed my cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I nodded, my spirits rising. So, we were still together, despite our secret being out in the open. My heart beat against my throat as he hugged me.

  I don’t deserve him.

  A nagging guilt needled at my conscience. What kind of damage would this exposé do to Luke? It was hard to tell whether his aunt and uncle had seen the report on TMZ. By now, other gossip websites would have the same story plastered all over their pages. I dressed as quickly as possible, eager to leave Chicago and return home.

  Return to what? To my volunteer job at the soup kitchen? To my ‘best friend’?

  She knew how fucking important this was. It galled me that she would do something like this for money, especially when I wired everything I owed her and then some.

  A depressing thought entered my head. The ten grand in my account—how long would it last? My heart pounded with anxiety. I did not want to return home; I didn’t want to look at Natalie and hear her useless apologies, or deal with the fact that I was still broke and jobless.