by Brooks, Tori
“Of course I meant both of you,” Kenny smoothly changed his original offer. Paige knew better.
Francois didn’t care for Kenny’s interest in Paige. Her coach tolerated it because Kenny’s help was Paige’s best chance of placing well and that made his own services coaching future beauty queens more desirable. Now that the Miss North America pageant was over, he was available for her, but would be looking for his next pretty girl with deep pockets.
“As you’re from Washington, and presumably returning there, wouldn’t it be more logical to extend the invitation to Miss Northwest?” Francois asked, an eyebrow quirking upward.
Paige had pressed against Kenny’s back partially in support, but also hoping to distract him into actually answering that very question. There was some sort of history between the band and Rene Golden, and even outright prying hadn’t gotten Kenny to spill the story on that one.
“Naturally.” Kenny nodded. “I was planning on stopping in Chicago. I want to play with some tracks we mixed there and I like the studio. It seemed harmless to offer you a lift when we’re landing there anyway.”
Francois stared into Kenny’s eyes while he considered what Paige knew to be a blatant lie. Kenny held up under the scrutiny, and Francois finally nodded.
“In that case, we would appreciate the gesture. If you’re sure it’s no trouble?”
“None at all. My pleasure.” Kenny smiled.
Paige backed away from him a step before Francois noticed her inappropriate proximity and berated her for it. He really was outrageously old fashioned.
Now Paige ignored Francois on her other side and glanced discreetly around, her eyes falling on Rene Golden and her coach, Annette Strike. She still didn’t know the source of the tension between Rene and the four hotties she’d spent so much time with recently. Three, Paige corrected herself. Dev didn’t seem to care about Rene one way or another. He didn’t even know who Miss Northwest was, so clearly he wasn’t part of the scandal.
Watching Rene, Paige revised her thinking again. Bryan boarded, sat beside her, and began chatting as easily as if they’d been old friends. Okay, so just Kenny and Jess disliked Rene. As the leader of their band, Kenny took all their problems personally, so his dislike didn’t mean he was necessarily involved.
That left Jess, who was slouched in the far corner looking out the window with an air of casualness that seemed forced now that Paige knew him better. She really should have suspected him first. But Jess was who he was. If Rene tangled with him, that was her own folly. You couldn’t blame Jess any more than you could blame a stallion for mounting every mare he could reach. It was in his nature. Until someone got a bridle on the man, the best any of them could do was accept it.
Still, Paige was curious about the details.
Unconcerned about if Francois saw at this point, Paige let her hand cross the short gap that separated her seat from Kenny’s to where his hand lay on the armrest. Intertwining her fingers with his, she held his hand.
Surprise crossed his face, but he accepted the small, innocent gesture. Beside her, Francois loudly cleared his throat. Paige discreetly flipped him off and Kenny chuckled softly.
The flight was only two hours and Paige spent it in an easy silence beside Kenny, just holding his hand. Sort of. She was eavesdropping on the conversation between Rene and Bryan at the beginning, but it was dull. Apparently they went to the same high school and it was just a polite ‘getting caught up with someone you barely knew’ type of conversation. Paige tuned it out as soon as she identified it, preferring Kenny’s quiet strength and subtle glances in her direction.
In Chicago, Kenny had a limo waiting and dropped Paige and Francois off at her house before heading to his hotel. She was a little miffed she didn’t get a chance to spend time with him alone, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t have his number.
The next couple of days were busy with welcome back and congratulatory dinners. Few knew Paige didn’t expect to win, so her thrill at achieving the number eight spot was genuine. Preston spoiled the achievement for her with his appearance and decision to bring Alastair with him.
“Paige,” Alastair said quietly, raising his champagne glass in an understated salute. Having done his part, Preston turned and left. Paige hoped he choked on his gimlet and faced her ex with a bright smile.
“Alastair, I’m so glad you could make it,” she answered in the way of greeting. This particular party was relatively small, but there were still abundant ears nearby and Paige hoped he wasn’t here to make a scene.
“I doubt that. You’ve been avoiding me for over a month.”
“I’ve been a little busy. If you’re here,” she gestured at the room full of mingling guests, “then I suspect you’re aware of that.”
“The crown wasn’t going to happen. Preston told me everything, including that. He said you might not even keep the one you have. Dad’s pushing for it, you know.”
He didn’t raise his voice and didn’t seem to be trying to make a scene, but she knew this would attract attention at some point. Paige had hoped they wouldn’t do this here and looked for somewhere to lead Alastair where they could talk in private. Of course that was its own scandal in the making. She glanced about for Francois, wondering where the hell he was. The first time she actually wanted a chaperone and he was MIA. This wasn’t even her house, it belonged to one of the organization’s major donors. Someone who backed her, privately of course, in her bid to be Miss Great Lakes. There was nowhere to go to escape the notice Alastair would eventually draw to them, intentional or not.
“Let me offer you a fresh glass.”
Paige jumped when Kenny appeared beside her and removed the champagne flute from her fingers. He handed her another glass, even though she’d hardly touched her own.
She looked around to see if anyone noticed Kenny’s sudden appearance by her side. A few people had, but no one that was likely to be aware of their relationship, of sorts.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, then realized that sounded as if she wasn’t glad to see him. Actually, with Alastair sizing him up the way he was, Paige wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Kenny to be here at all.
“Offering my congratulations, of course.” He smiled. “And Francois called.”
That explained a great deal.
“This is actually a private party for those who contributed to Paige’s rise to royalty. Figuratively speaking,” Alastair said.
“Actually, it’s technically sponsored by the board and therefore available to those who contributed to the Miss Great Lakes Program. If you make a sizable donation, and you know Paige, as it turns out you can score invites to these things as a thank-you. Literally speaking,” Kenny answered with a smile. “And I did help her with the Miss North America thing. I’m sure that counted for something.”
Alastair nodded. “Was that to pay them off so she doesn’t lose her state crown? Or are you going to get your band together and play a couple of songs?”
“Just a donation, no strings attached. The guys would probably give me a hand again if I needed to do a benefit concert, but it won’t be necessary. She cleared the top ten. It’d look bad for them to depose her now.”
“She only made eight because of you.”
Paige bristled and fought the urge to slap Alastair. She should really walk away from this. He always had the uncanny ability to push her buttons. The men on either side of her were nearly oblivious to her presence though, so leaving wouldn’t end this. If anything it’d get worse without her there to mitigate.
“No, she made it that far on her own. I only partially balanced out the damage Preston did. She might have gone higher if he’d been a better brother. I suspect she would have.” Kenny took a drink from the glass he was holding, Paige’s glass. He barely sipped before making a face.
“Warm?” Paige asked with a smile.
“Hmm, and flat. Doesn’t matter. It’s only meant to be a prop,” he said, looking at his glass. Turning his attention
back to Alastair, Kenny continued. “This conversation would be better suited elsewhere.”
“She wouldn’t return my calls.”
“I suspect she might now.” Kenny nudged Paige toward the open french doors at the far side of the room. Paige nodded in farewell to Alastair and let Kenny direct her out of the suddenly oppressive room.
Francois joined them from wherever he was hiding before they’d made it halfway to their destination.
“You need a chaperone. Also, make it quick. Paige, you need to mingle,” Francois said with an air of one that assumed he would be obeyed.
“So that was Alastair,” Kenny said as soon as they reached the balcony.
There were a few other guests out admiring the city lights from the penthouse but no one Paige knew and they ignored her. Paige had seen the view before and leaned against the brushed steel railing as she faced Kenny. He didn’t look upset, but you could never tell. Alastair was handsome, smooth, and tall. Kenny might be tallying a list in his mind now.
“Yes,” she answered. Simple was better. “Thank you for coming. I –”
“You’ll probably be seeing me at most of these things now. Just in case.”
Paige smiled just for him and his eyes lit slightly when he noticed the difference. “I can handle that.”
“I can see why you left him. Alastair, I mean. Is he going to continue to be a problem?”
“I’m not sure. He said something about Hale, his dad, pushing to have my title removed.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Hale can make donations too. And he’s a local businessman with no small amount of pull. Things add up.”
Kenny just shook his head. “When I spoke with Ambrose and Mark on the board, they’d already talked to Hale. I took a chance and told them about Preston and the Miss North America Pageant. I told them what I did to counter your brother’s sabotage, in part anyway.
“Image is more important than Hale realizes. People put down this competition saying it’s all about a pretty face. You know better, Hale does too, as do the people on the board. The image you present can’t afford to be tarnished. They want to bury this, especially now that you cleared that top-ten hurdle. That was an achievement they can take pride in. It’s something the girls who dream can take pride in. And it’s something that brings in donations.
“Ambrose and Mark weren’t happy when I pointed out you could have gone further. And they were grateful I stepped in to level the playing field, at least as much as I could.”
“It’s hard to say I could have gone further, Kenny.”
“No, it’s not. Did you really not realize exactly how they dealt the cards and quietly shuffled you off?”
Paige shrugged slightly. “I knew it would happen. I wasn’t looking for when or how.”
He nodded. “That’s fair, I suppose. It was your interview.”
“Oh. Makes sense, my score was low. My question was a bit ...”
“Harder? Non-standard? Noticed that did you?”
“Difficult to miss. I forgot about that.”
“You’re in denial. They eliminated you and Miss Baja that way.”
“Miss Baja? Kenny, I made it to the semi-finals because of you. If there was anyone else they wanted to be rid of, it would have been much easier to do it before it was televised.”
“I’ll grant you that, if you’ll concede I may not have been the only one who interfered. Their host –”
“Jack Sloan has always been very vocal about being from Paramus, New Jersey,” Paige argued.
“And his wife is from Tijuana.”
“So was Kyndra,” Paige said, more to herself than to Kenny.
“I assume that’s Miss Baja?”
Paige nodded. “Okay. So the board will occasionally exchange favors. I really didn’t want to know that.”
“Relax. Francois and I were watching and discussing it. With the exception of the two of you, it all looked on the level. He knows scoring and agreed with everyone’s scores. He believes you would have passed the interview had you been given a normal question. Your question wasn’t so far off-spec most would notice, just enough that the judges could, and did, score lower for your answer.”
She nodded again. “We don’t know the questions, obviously, but we know the formats they use, the topics they’ll choose from, and what they’re looking for. I should have been able to handle it better.”
Kenny looked around and, confused, Paige did as well, wondering what he was looking for. Seeing nothing of interest, except Francois’s unhappy face as he silently faced them and shielded them from view of the people mingling inside, she turned back to Kenny.
His lips met hers, briefly, gently. Just a feather-light brush. Barely a kiss at all. She nearly staggered with the emotional impact.
Sliding a hand around her waist to steady her, Kenny whispered in her ear. “The deck was stacked so don’t second guess yourself. You were amazing.”
Chapter Six
Lindsay watched the video with a level of apathy that amazed her, although it was melting away. Erika Atlas was a whore. Lindsay already knew that, she didn’t need to watch her hanging on Dev in a music video to prove it.
Dev didn’t get it. He was uncomfortable talking about Erika, and Kenny’s argument that convinced him to permit the rumor that he and Erika had a relationship. Well, at least stop denying it. Apparently it was great for publicity to have the photos of them together show up all over the web and celebrity magazines. It pissed Lindsay off more every time she saw them. Kenny was supposed to be Dev’s friend, although he certainly wasn’t Lindsay’s, and she had been waiting for this little gem of an idea to blow up on him. One of Dev’s fans was bound to notice his stand-offish attitude toward his ‘girlfriend’ at some point. Why wasn’t anyone noticing Dev’s shy smile was still shy with Erika? Why has no one questioned why they don’t have a single picture of a kiss? Even on the cheek? An arm around her? Or holding hands? Was the media that dense?
But Kenny’s plan hadn’t backfired yet, and now there was another video. That made four videos. Why couldn’t they just sing and release the singles? Why did they have to shoot videos? Why videos like these? It was like all the lovey steamy smut no one was capturing in pictures was saved for the videos.
She wondered if Dev would cut his ties to Erika Atlas if she asked him. Kenny would kill her. He hated her anyway. The call to come save Dev in Atlantic City was surprising until she thought about it. It wasn’t support for Dev so much as he didn’t want Dev to melt down before he could bag Paige. Now that his little drama was done, Kenny was back on the job of making her life difficult.
On the screen, Erika slid behind Dev and wrapped her arms around him. One was around his waist, almost. If it was a few inches higher it’d be around his waist. The other hand crawled up his stomach and chest like something slimy. Lindsay had to suppress the urge to throw up.
Okay, so maybe Kenny wasn’t responsible for the atrocity she was watching now, but he certainly didn’t prevent it. If he was Dev’s friend, he’d remind the cutie on her screen that he had a girlfriend. Specifically that he had a girlfriend that didn’t like watching this shit! Kenny had a lot of influence with Dev. Well so did she.
Lindsay clicked to freeze the video as Erika ground her hips against her boyfriend. Dev’s face failed to show the disgust Lindsay felt. She picked up her phone, intent on calling Dev, but found herself calling Randy instead. She didn’t realize her mistake until he picked up.
“I haven’t heard from you in a long time. Thought you said you were done with me,” his voice betrayed just a hint of a smooth southern drawl. And a smile.
Lindsay hesitated. She was done with him. He was a great lay, but she had Dev. Didn’t she? Her eyes flicked back to the scene frozen on her computer.
“Never mind. I misdialed,” Lindsay said, intent on hanging up.
“Wait a sec,” Randy said. “How about lunch? I was just going to meet up with Ruby and Olly.”
Lindsay glanced at the time on her computer, then her eyes flashed back up to where Erika’s hips pressed against Dev’s.
“Sure. Roberto’s?” She asked, knowing it was Olly’s favorite and just about the only place they ever went.
Randy laughed. “Naturally. Half hour?”
“See you there.” Lindsay hung up, already dreading the decision to go. She needed to think this through, and it would help to talk it over, but Dev wouldn’t be happy if she talked it over with Ruby and Olly. He’d be livid if he even found out about Randy.
She should call and cancel, then call Becky. Maybe drop in on her mom. Or even her dad. Lindsay checked her reflection in the mirror in her room, refreshing her lipstick and running a brush through her hair. She grabbed her purse and keys. The keys made her hesitate. It was Dev’s car.
It wasn’t like she was stealing his car or anything. Lindsay closed her laptop and slid it into its case, bringing it along. She wasn’t even sure why. She hadn’t decided whether she would talk to Ruby about this. Dev wasn’t cheating on her, she was sure of it.
○ ○ ○
“He’s so cheating on you,” Ruby said after watching the video for the third time. “But, then again, you aren’t exactly an angel yourself, angel.”
“Dev understands my problem, Ruby,” Lindsay ignored the slam. “He’s my polar opposite, so he doesn’t get to sleep around.”
“A little unfair, don’t you think? You get to be yourself and be a nympho, he gets to be himself and be a prude. You get to ‘control yourself’ and be a prude, he gets to ... be himself. Shouldn’t he get to experiment?” Randy asked.
Lindsay rounded on him. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours, but before you call him to the table on this, you need to take a step back. I’ve been your release valve a few times now, and God knows how many others there were or are. I’m not judging, just saying.” He held up his hands in a defensive posture. “Where’s his release valve?”