by Moody, Diane
“No, really—”
“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes, angry that she’d almost fallen for it.
“This is Sergio. I swear it!”
“Sure it is, sweet cheeks. Then I guess I should tell you right here and now, Sergi-O, that I think you’re the hottest member of Out of the Blue.”
I can play this game too, buster.
Laughter drifted through the receiver. “Is that a fact?”
“NO, you pervert! You’re not Sergio Cruz. Besides, your lame attempt of an accent sounds ridiculous! So whoever you are, Mr. Paparazzi, just leave me—”
“Laura McKenzie talked to you this afternoon.”
The words stopped her cold.
“She wanted to find out where Hannah Brooks is. You refused to tell her. Does any of this sound familiar?
No. No, no, no, it can’t be . . . She swallowed hard.
He laughed. It was a great laugh. Even in her horror, she loved the laugh.
“Look, Kylie. I have to talk to you. Would it be okay if I stopped by?”
“No! I mean . . . oh, you can’t. I’m not dressed and it’s late and—” I’m saying no to Sergio Cruz?
“Kylie, I promised Laura I’d talk to you and it won’t take but a minute. So if I could just come over—”
“Now?!” Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hand flew to her hair, her face . . .
“Yeah, in fact, I’m in your parking lot as we speak.”
“WHAT?!”
“You’ve got to realize we have a lot of connections. I got your address because I was hoping you’d agree to see me. So what do you say?”
“Now?” Her nervous giggle eclipsed her response before she could stop it. Just let me die right here, Lord. End the tragedy. Beam me up, God. “Uh . . . well, uh—”
“Great. I’ll be right up.”
“NO! I mean, well, can you give me a few minutes?”
“Sure. No problem. Say about five minutes?”
“Make it ten.”
“Ten it is. And thanks, Kylie. I really appreciate it. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
Kylie raced through her apartment, peeling off her pajamas, snatching up yesterday’s cereal bowl, and the laundry basket of clean underwear waiting to be folded. She threw open three drawers looking for a fresh t-shirt then bolted for the closet to find her jeans.
She narrated her own warped-speed marathon with a running commentary. “Ten-minutes-oh-my-gosh-Sergio-Cruz-is-coming-HERE-right-now-what-does-he-want-what-should-I-say-my-hair-is-a-disaster-glory-these-jeans-are-so-tight-Hannah-how-could-you-do-this-to-me-where’s-my-hairbrush-oh-gross-the-litter-box-stinks—”
The doorbell rang.
“Eeeeoooww!”
“Oh Katy! I’m so sorry!” The colorful ball of fur darted under the sofa as Kylie wrestled to zip up her jeans. She lowered her voice, continuing her tirade. “He’s-only-a-regular-person-chill-out-Kylie . . . WHAT AM I SAYING?! I’ll never pull this off! Never!”
It rang again.
“Okay. I can do this. I can.” She charged toward the door. Just before answering, she stopped, yanked the bands off her pigtails then bent over to rake her fingers through her uncontrollable red curls. The blood rushed to her head making her feel even dizzier. She stood back up, hand on the wall to steady herself, then nonchalantly opened the door.
Sergio Cruz pulled off his sunglasses as he looked at her from beneath the curved bill of his baseball cap. His eyes popped.
What? What’s he looking at? Kylie patted her hair which seemed to be the focus of his attention, then followed his eyes as they landed on her face. Her hand instinctively went to her cheek. She could feel the heat. No, please, no. I must be eight shades of purple.
“Kylie?”
“Uh, hi! Sergio! How-are-you-I’m-Kylie-come-on-in-can-I-get-you-something-to-drink-would-you-like-a-snack-or-maybe—”
“Whoa! Hold up, there. Take a breath, okay?”
“Oh. Sorry! I guess I’m a little nervous here. Sorry. I’ll try to calm down. Here, watch—” She blew out a quick breath. “See? Breathing. All better. Now. Please. Come in. Have a seat.” She rambled on, turning to point him toward the sofa. As he approached the plaid sofa, they both noticed the package of feminine hygiene products sitting there atop an empty Wal-Mart bag.
“Whoa!” she yelped, turning to grab the package behind her back. “Second thought, you can just have a seat over there in that chair. It’s comfortable. You’ll like it. No problem.” She faked a cough.
“Are you always this hyper?” He laughed as she tucked the package under an afghan.
He sat down and pulled off his cap, running his hand through his dark curly hair. The tiny diamond stud on his ear caught her eye. But it was his eyes that grabbed her. She stood there, swimming in those dark brown bedroom eyes . . .
“Aren’t you going to sit down?”
She fell back onto the sofa, then tucked her legs beneath her, never losing eye contact with him. She started to say something then stopped. He was smiling at her. I swear his eyes just twinkled. And look at those perfect white teeth . . . those dimples . . . and those eyes . . . those amazing eyes . . . A long sigh escaped but she didn’t care. Not one bit. She felt the grin slide across her face.
“Kylie, it’s really nice to meet you.”
She grinned some more. I love how he says my name—Kah-lee. With the emphasis on the second syllable. Kah-lee. It just rolls off his tongue with that delicious accent . . .
“Laura said you and Hannah are—OUCH! ¿Qué diablos?!”
“Katy! Get down!” Kylie scolded as she sprang toward him. The kitten was climbing up Sergio’s leg. She tried to pry the feline loose but Katy scurried around him, tunneling behind Sergio’s back. “Uh, well . . . I don’t want to—”
He laughed. “It’s okay, don’t worry about her. I was just a little shocked, that’s all. She’s fine. I love cats. As long as she doesn’t claw me to death.”
“Are you sure? Because I can put her in my bedroom.”
“No, she’s fine. Really.”
Katy proceeded to burrow all over him, finally crawling up on his chest and tucking her head inside his jacket. He laughed at her, stroking her patchwork coat.
Kylie sat back down. “You know, that’s really incredible. She doesn’t usually like strangers. Normally, she hides until they leave.” She smiled at the sight of him with her cat. Sergio Cruz. Petting my Katy. I wonder where my camera is.
“Kylie, I apologize for barging in on you at such short notice and all, but Laura begged me to come over and talk with you.”
“She’s persistent, isn’t she? She isn’t at all what I expected.”
Sergio laughed again. “She’s persistent. That she is. I was headed out the door to the airport when she lassoed me into this—” He darted his eyes back to her. “I mean—well, not that she had to—”
“It’s okay. I met her. You don’t have to explain.”
“Sorry.”
There’s that smile again. “You were leaving town?”
“Yeah, I was making a quick run down to Florida to—”
“Florida?” She blinked her eyes wide. “Why were you going to Flor—” She caught herself, but it was too late. She watched it register on his face. He hadn’t missed the slip.
He chuckled. “So Hannah’s in Florida, is she?”
His enormous smile melted her like a hair dryer set on high blowing on a bowl of Mint Chocolate Chip. “Hannah? Oh, no, I was asking about you. You’re going to Florida. Why are you going to Florida? Where are you going in Florida? Florida’s nice. I love Florida.”
“Kylie?”
“Great beaches, great sunshine, great theme parks—what part of Florida did you say you were going to?”
“I didn’t say.”
“Oh.”
Silence. His smile broadened.
She smiled in return then scratched her eyebrow, hoping to avoid his gaze.
“Orlando.”
“
Orlando! I love Orlando.”
“Kylie, where is she?”
“So will you be going to Disney while you’re there? Or Universal Studios? Sea World? I hear there’s a new—”
“Kylie?”
“Yes?”
“Is Hannah in Orlando?”
“No! No, Hannah is not in Orlando. No.”
“But she’s in Florida?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Kylie jumped up. “Sergio, are you sure you don’t want something to—”
“Actually I do. But let’s go out. Here—” He tossed her the keys. “I can’t exactly just walk into a restaurant with all that’s happened, but how about we hit the Sonic? You like drive-ins?”
Her face brightened, relieved to have the conversation interrupted. “I love drive-ins! But why do you want me to drive?”
“If I drive, the waitress brings out our food, and suddenly the Sonic is crawling with lunáticos. It’s been a wild week for us.”
Kylie grabbed her coat as they headed for the door. “No problem, I’ll drive. You’ve got insurance, right?”
The cold air sent chills down her back but it felt good to get out of the confinement of her apartment. His questions had cornered her like a caged animal. He led the way to a sleek black convertible coupe.
“Oh my! You’re gonna let me drive THIS?”
“Why not? You have a driver’s license, don’t you?”
“No, it’s just a really nice car—a reeeeally nice car.”
“It belongs to the McKenzies. I think it’s one of Frank’s, so you’ll have to take it up with him if you wreck it.”
Her nervous laughter fell flat as she tried to swallow. “Whatever you say.” Kylie climbed into the compact, the soft black leather seats as comfortable as an easy chair. “This is awesome. Oh, I could so get used to this. Whoa. My seat is warm. Did you—”
“Heated seats. Just so you know.” He nodded as if affirming the fact. Sergio slammed the door on his side, fastening his seat belt as Kylie did hers. “Just take it slow and easy and you’ll be fine.”
“Look at all these—” A siren wailed as she accidentally hit the panic button on the key.
“THAT WOULD BE THE SECURITY SYSTEM! HERE—” He grabbed the key from her and pressed the button again.
“Sorry. What is all this stuff?”
“All the bells and whistles. I have one of these back home so I’m used to it. But just don’t touch anything that—” The wipers began beating a frenzied pattern back and forth with a generous mist of water shooting across the windshield. “Those, of course, are the wipers. Let’s hope it doesn’t freeze or you won’t be able to see.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“Okay. Okay, I can do this. Here’s the ignition. And here’s the four on the floor. Okay, let’s go for it.”
She eased the car out of the parking space, then shifted to forward and—SCREEEEEECH!!!
“¡Tranquila! Slow down! Slow down!”
She jammed her foot on the brakes, jolting them hard against their seat belts. “Sorry.”
“Are you sure you know how to drive?”
“Of course! It’s just that I’m not used to such a fancy—”
The car peeled out again. Sergio let his head fall back on the headrest, letting out a loud yell. “¡Ayúdame, Jesús!” he shouted, laughing.
“I’m guessing that was a prayer?”
“You could say that.” He rattled off another long line of Spanish then laughed again.
They made it to Sonic in one piece and Kylie guided the car into a remote slot at the far end of the drive-in. She put the car in park and turned, giving her passenger a triumphant smile. “See? I did it! We made it safe and—”
“And that would be the top going down.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry! Here, let me . . . there! Here it comes back up. No problem.” Nervous giggle.
“Kylie, do you live your whole life like this? We’ve only been together for about—” He looked at his watch. “—twenty minutes now, and frankly, I’m exhausted. And yes, that would be the windshield wipers again. Kylie! Turn it off! I’m getting soaked!”
Finally, the top returned securely in place, the wipers were turned off, and Kylie slumped back in her seat. “I’m so embarrassed. I wanted to make such a good impression on you and look at me. I feel like Lucy here.” She buried her face in her hands.
“Luuuccccy? You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” Sergio mimicked.
“Oh, Riiiiccckkky . . . . waaaaaaah!”
“Now, Luuuccccy, stop that cryin’ . . .”
They laughed until they hurt and Kylie wiped tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe this! Really. Even for me, this is most embarrassing.”
Sergio let out a long sigh. “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. To tell you the truth, it feels great to laugh. I haven’t laughed—well, it’s been a long time.” He winked at her and her heart skipped a beat.
When she and Hannah were younger, they used to swoon at Sergio’s signature wink in interviews and music videos. He was a pro at it.
And to think this one was just for me.
They ordered Cokes and a large order of fries to share. When the attendant brought their order, Kylie was pleased to find the right button to roll down the car window. She tossed a smug expression toward Sergio and discovered him huddled against the passenger door, the bill on his cap pulled low.
She handed him his drink. “Here Sergio—uh, KEN! Here, Ken . . . here’s your drink, KEN.” She shot the attendant a fake smile. “That’s Ken. Uh, here . . . keep the change. Thank you. Bye.”
“Smooth,” he teased. “You’re really good at being discreet.”
“Hey, it’s my first time! You should have seen Hannah when I—” She winced.
“When you what?”
“Nothing.”
“Kylie, you can forget the pretense. I know you know where she is. And you and I both know you’re going to tell me.” He stuffed a couple of French fries in his mouth.
“Oh yeah?”
“Sure. So why don’t you just ‘splain it all to me, Luuuccccy, and we can get on with it.”
Her brow wrinkled quizzically as she took a sip of her Coke. “Get on with what?”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“Oh.”
“So she’s in Florida and you have her number . . . and . . .?”
She bit into a fry.
“And this is where you fill in the rest of the sentence, Kylie.”
I love how he says my name. I could listen to that for the rest of my life . . . She snatched another couple of fries.
“You’re hogging the fries.”
“I’m hungry,” she mumbled.
He grabbed the bag away from her. “Nope. No more. Not until you talk.”
She wiped her hands on a napkin. “And I thought Laura was stubborn.”
“Taught me everything I know.” He smiled.
“Sergio, do you really expect me to break my promise and—”
“Yes.”
“—tell you where she is—”
“Yes.”
“—when she specifically asked me not to tell any of you?”
“She told you not to tell me?”
“Well, she—”
“She actually said to you, ‘Kylie, don’t tell Sergio where I am.’ She said that to you?”
She took a long sip of Coke until the straw squawked.
“Ah ha! She didn’t, did she? So you can tell me. Problem solved.”
“Sergio! Stop making this so—”
Honk!
“And that would be the horn you’re leaning on, Kylie.”
She pulled her elbows back from the steering wheel. “Good grief! This thing is booby-trapped.”
“Face it, woman, you are some kind of wicked behind that wheel.”
“Oh yeah? I kinda like the sound of that . . . say it again,” she flirted.
“Not until you t
ell me.”
She shifted in the seat, careful not to touch anything, tucking her leg beneath her. She tilted her head and studied him. Why does he have to be so handsome? Why do his teeth have to be so straight? Why are his eyes so sexy . . .
“Kylie?”
Kah-lee. Kah-lee, Kah-lee, Kah-lee. Who knew I had such a sexy name?
“Hannah. Where. Is. She. We’re all worried sick about her. We got really attached to her over the last few weeks. When Jackson got shot and we were all together at the hospital—I mean, she was there for Jason, y’know? She got him through it. But when that press conference exploded and then they plastered her face all over the news—”
“I know all this, Sergio,” Kylie interrupted, surprised at the sharp tone of her voice. “I was there. I saw her face on the news. I was there when she watched the news reports with Jason and Jennifer all over the screen. I was there when she got so scared she was literally shaking. I was there when the news van came roaring into her parking lot. I was with her through that, Sergio. And I’ve seen how Jason broke her heart! I’ve had to watch my best friend die inside because of all of you.” She stopped, short of breath from the outburst. She looked out her window, not wanting him to see her tears.
“Hey, I’m so sorry, Kylie.” He reached out, turning her chin toward him with his finger. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She closed her eyes, embarrassed to let him see her get so emotional. One minute they were laughing and now huge crocodile tears were spilling down the side of her face. He caught the one nearest him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s just that . . . Sergio, you’ve got to realize I’ve known Hannah almost my entire life. She’s like a sister to me. And you guys, you all have known her, what—maybe two or three weeks? When I left for the holidays, she was bummed about having to work but she was okay. And when I got back she was devastated. I’ve never seen her like that before.
“So when Laura—and now you—ask me to just forget all that and tell you the one thing she asked me not to tell you, well, it’s not something I take lightly.”
Sergio studied Kylie. Her face was so fair, sprinkled with tiny freckles. He’d never known anyone with that many freckles before. But somehow they were an integral part of who she was. They set her apart, made her special. And they totally matched her personality. What a piece of work she was.