[Phoebe Pope 01.0] The Year of Four

by Nya Jade

  “Okay.” Phoebe could barely get the word out. She cast a quick look between the agents and Afua, then picked up the dictionary and walked toward the door. As it snapped shut behind her, Phoebe heard a man’s voice ask, with a tinge of awe, “Was that one of the Hyphas, ma’am?”

  “Yes, Agent Rodriguez,” Afua replied. “Now if you would all open your dossiers to page . . .” the Blackcoat’s words faded as Phoebe, turning a corner, took her next steps at a run.

  Hayley came to see Phoebe off that evening bearing a tray of freshly baked muffins and looking as nervous as Phoebe, if not more so.

  “Banana nut,” Hayley said, laying the tray on the desk before grabbing one and sinking cross-legged onto Phoebe’s bed.

  “I’m too nervous to eat,” Phoebe said, closing the door.

  Hayley laughed. “I made them for me. So I’ve been thinking about that whole kiss-on-the-nose thing,” Hayley continued, in a bright, cheery voice. “You know you’re being silly, right? He hasn’t parked you in the friend zone. It was sweet.”

  “Fine, fine,” Phoebe laughed. “Maybe I was a bit melodramatic.”

  Phoebe had fired off a series of text messages to Hayley immediately following her dinner with Colten. She’d reviewed the dinner—great. The conversation—candid. The goodbye—“KISS ON THE NOSE. WHAT THE HELL??” But with all of the day’s final preparations for the sting, Phoebe hadn’t been able to meet up with Hayley to discuss.

  “I just thought I gave off the right signals.” Phoebe, who had been obsessively checking and re-checking her bags, finally grabbed a muffin from the tray and sat next to Hayley.

  Hayley gave Phoebe a doubtful look. “Did you really?” She took another bite of her muffin. “Show me?”

  “Show you what?”

  “Your best come-and-kiss-me look.”

  Phoebe began arranging her features and Hayley fell over laughing, thumping her chest as she choked on a piece of muffin. “You look like you’re constipated!” Hayley wheezed. “But you’ve made my point.”

  Phoebe shot to her feet, irritated. “Whatever—what point?”

  Calmer now, Hayley said, “You can’t force it. When you feel it, you feel it. You were trying too hard to make that dinner the ‘do over.”’

  Phoebe took a bite of her muffin, chewed, and scowled at Hayley. Perhaps Hayley was right.

  “Anyway,” Hayley said. “It wasn’t a kiss on the cheek. Now that can be a one-way ticket to the friend zone. The nose . . . well the nose is just a slippery slope down to the lips.”

  “Slippery slope?” Phoebe laughed. “Really? Where do you think up such stuff?” She was grateful for Hayley’s crazy chatter, as it was enough to cut through the frantic pre-sting noise in her own head.

  “That color is gonna make your hair pop in photos,” Hayley said as Phoebe pulled the dress they’d chosen from the closet and zipped it into its Macy’s garment bag. “Speaking of photos, do you know the right way to pose for the cameras?”

  Phoebe looked up from her packing. “There’s a right way?”

  “Oh God, yes,” Hayley said, stuffing the rest of her muffin into her mouth. “There’s a pose that arranges your body in a flattering position so that you look lean and curvy where it counts. I can’t believe I didn’t think to do this earlier.”

  “Do what?”

  “Use my pageant experience to help make you paparazzi ready.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Phoebe said, grabbing her brush from the desk and slipping it into the side pocket of her backpack. “I’ll probably be in the background somewhere.”

  Hayley almost choked. “Are you kidding me right now? There’s no fading into the background when you’re on Colten Chase’s arm. Cameras will be flashing. You will be famous—Phoebe Pope will be a name known around the world!”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened at those words.

  “So, let’s get this right.” Hayley hurried forward and grabbed Phoebe by the hand. “The trick with posing,” she said, after she’d dragged a reluctant Phoebe to the closet mirror, “is to angle your body. That’s the secret to looking leaner—not that you need any help in that department.”

  “Angle my body?” Phoebe said. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Never face the camera straight on. Now, pretend the mirror is the cameraman. This is how you work it.” Hayley moved behind Phoebe and angled her right shoulder away from the “cameraman”, setting that arm’s hand on her hip. Then Hayley’s hands traveled to Phoebe’s hips, shifting them slightly forward. Phoebe’s eyes widened at seeing the immediate effect this had on the appearance of her frame.

  “So that’s it, then?” Phoebe said.

  Hayley smiled in the mirror. “Almost, my friend. Let your left arm hang away from your body and allow your fingers to hold your purse in a relaxed manner.”

  “There’s no way I’m going to remember this,” Phoebe said as Hayley placed a purse in her hand, took her arm and made a minor adjustment.

  “Even if you only remember a couple of things, it will make a huge difference.” Hayley tapped Phoebe’s foot with her own. “Now cross your left leg over your right. See how that makes those stilts you walk on look even longer? And lastly—”

  A loud knocking at the door swallowed the rest of Hayley’s instructions.

  “I’ll be right there,” Phoebe answered in a voice of forced calm, while throwing a panicked look at Hayley whose complexion had suddenly paled. “Lastly what?” Phoebe whispered, now staring desperately at Hayley. The Blackcoats had arrived. She was out of time. And all she wanted to know at that moment, as if her life depended on it, was Hayley’s last piece of advice.

  “Don’t forget to smile,” Hayley said in a rush. “It can do more for your face than makeup.”

  Phoebe briefly studied her reflection. The pose Hayley had put her in had her looking sophisticated and confident—everything she didn’t feel. Phoebe opened the closet door and got her coat. She threw it on and squeezed the tiger’s eye pendant she’d put in the pocket. Then, she picked up her bags and headed for the door.

  Hayley gripped Phoebe’s elbow before she turned the knob. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered reassuringly. “Remember you’re on a date!”

  “Kinda rhymes with bait,” Phoebe chuckled nervously, although the excitement of being with Colten was welling up again.

  Hayley punched Phoebe in the arm. “You’ve got the easiest job—looking good.” Lowering her voice she added, “They’ve got you covered.”

  Phoebe bent over and swallowed her pint-sized friend in a tight hug. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered in Hayley’s ear. “The company, the muffins, the tips, everything.”

  Hayley wriggled herself free of Phoebe’s hold. “Yeah yeah. I’ll be waiting for the post-premiere recap!”

  TWENTY-TWO

  When Phoebe knocked on Colten’s hotel room door, she was shocked to come face to face with his co-star, Tanya Brown, who whipped the door open with one hand resting lightly on her cocked hip. Phoebe’s stomach plummeted; even the perfectly airbrushed photos she’d seen of the glamour girl had failed to do her proper justice. Her eyes, dark and piercing beneath long mascara-tinged lashes, stared inquiringly at Phoebe.

  “Can I help you?” Tanya said, with luscious lips painted an enhancing shade of cherry red.

  Phoebe took a moment to calm her nerves before answering, “I’m looking for Colten.”

  Tanya arched perfectly plucked eyebrows. “And you are?”

  “Be nice to my date, Tan,” Colten’s voice came from inside the room.

  Phoebe looked over Tanya’s head to where Colten sat on a sofa, a book in his hand, gorgeous grin firmly in place.

  “So you’re Phoebe,” Tanya said instantly breaking into a pleasant smile. “Sorry, I thought you were some crazed fan who managed to get past security. Come in.” Tanya stepped aside to allow Phoebe to pass.

  At first Phoebe didn’t move, dumbfounded that Tanya Brown knew of her and that her name had generated
a smile. And then, engaging her feet, Phoebe walked through the door, entering a suite that took her breath away all over again. With wall-to-wall windows rising from mahogany floors to a gracefully arched ceiling, it offered stunning views of the Charles River and the Boston skyline beyond it. The dark wood paneling, plush furniture, ornately woven throw rugs and two huge fireplaces burning with healthy flames all had Phoebe’s senses working to absorb the splendor around her. If she weren’t wound so tight with nerves, she might have rushed over to the balcony to take in the whole spectacular panorama. She could feel Colten’s smile as he took in the amazement on her face.

  “Well kids, I gotta go get ready.” Tanya’s voice snapped Phoebe out of her reverie. Phoebe turned to look at the slender star who was grabbing her bag and coat from a love seat.

  “We’ll see you out there,” Colten said.

  Tanya threw Colten a wicked grin. “I know you’re happy to be rid of me,” she said. And then looking at Phoebe, “I’ve been giving him crap for being a bore.” She gestured at the coffee table stacked with books. “We have a premiere tonight and he’s here reading poetry by Yeats and some other long dead English men.”

  Colten stood. “Tan. Go,” he said in mock warning. The suite door closed and Phoebe could hear Tanya’s ringing laugh in the hallway.

  Colten crossed to Phoebe. “Don’t mind her.”

  Phoebe spoke, careful to keep all jealousy out of her voice. “So were you two prepping for the premiere?”

  Colten grinned. “It’s been leaked to the press that Tanya and I are no longer an item.” Colten laughed as Phoebe wrinkled her forehead. “And since this premiere will be our first public appearance since the ‘split,”’ he raised his hands to make mock quotation marks in the air, “we met to get our story straight for the reporters who will be hounding us.” Colten then reached toward her and took Phoebe’s hands in his. “It’s really dumb and you don’t have to worry about it. Let me show you your room.”

  Colten led Phoebe to a bedroom with thick carpeting that swallowed her feet the moment she entered. She toed off her shoes to luxuriate in the softness while Colten took her bags from her and deposited them on a silk-covered bed set with giant pillows. And then turning, he watched her quietly.

  “I’m glad you’re here tonight,” he said softly.

  Phoebe smiled. She was glad too, even though she couldn’t truly relax enough to enjoy it.

  “What’s up with the books? Homework?”

  “No. Independent research.”

  Phoebe gave him a quizzical look.

  “Someone I know told me they couldn’t have another person’s mouth on theirs unless they liked the things that came out of it, their thoughts, opinions, and ideas.” Phoebe blinked, shocked to hear her own words being said back to her. “So I figured,” Colten continued with a hint of nervousness in his voice that Phoebe had never heard before, “if smart things are to come out of my mouth then I should brush up on some of the brilliant minds that said them.”

  Phoebe felt a flush flare, rising rapidly from her navel to the roots of her hair. Colten had been walking slowly toward her, and now, standing inches before her, he hooked his thumbs to the back of her jeans, lowered his face toward hers and said softly, “‘Though I am old with wandering / Through hollow lands and hilly lands / I will find out where she has gone / And kiss her lips and take her hands / And walk among long dappled grass / And pluck till time and times are done / The silver apples of the moon / The golden apples of the sun.”’

  “‘The Song of Wandering Aengus,”’ Phoebe said breathlessly, her hearts thumping in her throat.

  Colten nodded. “I think a guy should give himself a fair shake at getting acquainted with your lips, Phoebe Pope.”

  Phoebe gasped. Colten cupped the back of her head with one gentle hand while the other hand palmed the small of her back. He gently bit her lower lip, teasing. When Phoebe didn’t move, Colten stepped back, meeting her eyes with curiosity. Is he asking permission to continue, Phoebe wondered. Almost involuntarily, she closed the gap between them with the smallest step and wrapped her arms around his neck. Oh this kiss is happening, her mind screamed as she raised her lips to his. Colten kissed her softly, then deeper, letting his tongue gently caress the shape of her lips. Tiny firecrackers exploded in Phoebe’s stomach as his hands slipped into the space between her jeans and her hips and pulled her even closer against him. Phoebe felt her spine curve at the touch of his fingertips to her skin. Everything about it was amazing and her head buzzed with sensation. As he pulled her, carefully walking backward toward the bed and softly kissing her ear, a voice from the living room yelled, “Colten! The pre-sale numbers are off the charts!”

  They broke apart instantly. Phoebe’s eyes widened in surprise, her mind swirling with what had just happened and the sudden presence of someone unknown. Yeats. Colten Chase had memorized Yeats just so he could impress me with it.

  “Nicole,” Colten mumbled.

  Phoebe ran a hand through her hair, struggling for composure, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed while Colten remained on his feet.

  “Oh good, you’re here,” Nicole said, appearing suddenly in the doorway, smiling. She leaned against it, a cell phone and sheet of paper in one hand, a designer tote bag hanging from the crease of her other elbow. She oozed sophistication in a flowing black sweater over indigo skinny jeans and pointy cowboy boots, her neck draped with strings of gold beads.

  “Am I ever late?” Colten said. He walked the short distance to her, and Nicole tilted her face to receive a kiss on both cheeks.

  “We’re on our way to breaking all kinds of records—opening night, opening weekend.” She smiled and slapped the piece of paper against Colten’s chest. “Read it and . . .” At that moment, Nicole looked past Colten, meeting Phoebe’s eyes with a scrutinizing brown-eyed gaze.

  “I didn’t know you had company,” Nicole said flatly.

  “I told you about Phoebe.” Colten turned his head to wink at her over his shoulder.

  Nicole’s highly drawn ponytail swung as her head turned back to Phoebe. “This is your date? When you said Phoebe I thought you meant Phoebe Monsaria, the super model.” She rolled her eyes from the top of Phoebe’s head to her feet and then back, at last, to her face, with an expression that was far from flattering. “This situation,”—she waved her hands at Phoebe—“is going to take some work.”

  Phoebe grabbed a fistful of the silk comforter and forced herself to breathe. Frustration swelled inside her. She looked up at Colten with a hurt look on her face, as he continued grinning down at her and she realized that this was probably par for the course for Nicole. That, however, did not make Phoebe feel any less like a wart on an already misshapen nose.

  “You don’t like anyone I date, Nic.” Colten held Nicole by the shoulders, looking into her eyes with a raised eyebrow and a hint of annoyance in his tone. “And besides, last I heard, you thought Phoebe Monsaria had a horsey smile.”

  Nicole narrowed her eyes at him, paused, and then let her eyes slide to Phoebe. “What did you bring to—” she started, and then stopped, her eyes having located Phoebe’s Macy’s garment bag. Her eyes closed involuntarily in disdain, and Phoebe felt her stomach drop. Just then, the shrill sound of Nicole’s cell phone broke the tension in the room. She flipped it open and put it to her ear.

  “Just the person I need to talk to,” Nicole said into the phone. “Yes, we’re very pleased with the numbers. . . . Yes, biggest opening yet. . . . Listen, I need you to do me a huge favor and throw in a few dresses with the Armani suit you’re bringing up for Colten. Size six. Bring knee or tea-length options unless your goddess of a seamstress can do a quick hem job on a floor-length. . . . No, not Tanya, a prom-dress-toting newbie. . . . I know! That’s what I said. Yes . . . glam squad, too. There’s a funky streak in her hair. . . .”

  Colten gave Nicole a reproving look, cocked his head at the door and mouthed “Out”. Waving him off, she spun around and stalked out of the
room. Phoebe stared at the door, trying to scrub the words “prom-dress-toting newbie” out of her mind.

  “Don’t pay attention to her antics,” Colten said, turning to face Phoebe. “She thrives on drama and you’ll only feed the beast if you react to it. Besides, I’m sure what you brought is beautiful. Nicole only cares about name dropping designers in magazines.”

  Phoebe bit her lip and said nothing. If it weren’t for her need to be there for this sting operation, or the fact that Colten was looking at her with a gaze so inviting, Phoebe would have grabbed her things immediately and toted her “prom dress” out of there.

  “If I remember correctly,” Colten said, his tone full of gravel as he crossed to the bed, “I was in the middle of getting acquainted with that pouting mouth . . .”

  Phoebe couldn’t stop the salacious wink that accompanied her smile. It surprised her. But she’d gotten a taste of Colten’s lips. And she wanted more. For a moment she worried about Nicole in the next room. But that was washed away by the warmth of Colten’s breath pulsing on her cheek. “Relax,” he said, kissing her nose and sliding down to her lips, “she won’t hear a thing.”

  “Are you sure?” Phoebe said, stealing a breath. She couldn’t believe how sexy Colten’s murmuring voice sounded, how the hairs on her body prickled with heated excitement. It was official; she’d surrendered to her feelings.

  “The room is sound proof . . .” Colten said in a husky whisper. Phoebe vaguely heard those words. Colten’s body had melted into hers, tipping her, unresisting, onto her back. Desire claimed her. Her hands found the hem of his shirt and slipped underneath it, her fingers tracing the lines of muscles that roped up his back to thick shoulders. A gasp escaped Phoebe’s lips. Colten’s mouth was on her neck, gently sucking at her skin. Her toes curled back. Her body trembled as he left a trail of warm kisses from the hollow where her collar bones met, all the way down to her stomach. His tongue tickled her navel beneath her shirt. Phoebe dug her hands into Colten’s hair and moaned.