Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Yeah…”

  “Let’s just say you inspired me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Gee, that’s not cryptic at all,” I said as he held open the door and we walked into a rather large foyer with an ornate chandelier hanging from its center to light up the space. To the right there were a handful of photographers snapping photos of attendees on a small red carpet that ran a few feet and was backed by what Ace called a “step and repeat” backdrop with the list of sponsors.

  A woman with a clipboard came over then, introducing herself to Ace, and then leading us over to the photographers. When Ace and I stepped up in front of the cameras, they went wild. His arm went around my waist, pulling me close, and I tried to mimic all those celebrity couple pictures I’d seen in magazines. The head angled slightly toward him, the big grin, one leg in front of the other for a longer line. No idea if I was nailing it or trying too hard. I hoped for the former.

  “Just like a pro,” Ace said with a smile, his fingers giving me a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

  After they got their shots, Ace gave them a nod and thanks and then I took his arm again. After the flashes, I was seeing double, and would’ve tripped all over my gown had I not had something to hold on to.

  I frowned and squinted at the backdrop. “Does that sign say USC?”

  He nodded and then pointed back toward the entrance we came from, at the buildings across the street. “Film school was where I started, so I thought I’d give back a little. Help someone else catch their break.”

  “Film school,” I repeated, hoping I’d misheard—and misread.

  “Yeah, you know, branch out by starting small. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Uh…did I?” Fuck, it was hot in here, and I patted my forehead with the back of my hand before fanning myself. A low hum sounded in my ears, the rush of blood as my heart rate picked up. Surely this was just a coincidence. It had to be. Yeah, I had a lot of karma coming back my way, but the others involved were good people…

  Fuck, I needed to sit down.

  “Are you okay?” Ace asked, his forehead crinkling. “You did eat today, right?”

  “What? Oh. Uh yeah.”

  “Just making sure. I know what low blood sugar looks like.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “The last five girls I dated lived off cigarettes and champagne. Fainting spells every damn day.”

  “I don’t…smoke,” I managed, fanning myself faster. Was the air on? Did they have a freezer I could hide in? My eyes searched the room, but Ace was pulling me in the opposite direction.

  “Ah, there’s the man of the hour,” he said, as he led me over to—

  Nate.

  He turned around just as we came to a stop, and when he saw me, the biggest dimpled smile I’d ever seen crossed his face. “You made it.”

  Oh my God. It was slow motion as he reached for me, pulling me into a tight squeeze. As his lips brushed against my cheek, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. My arms were frozen at my sides as the reality that my life was about to crumble to the ground punched me in the gut.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. You have no idea how much it means to me,” Nate said, and then pulled away, that big-ass grin still on his face. Then he noticed who was standing next to me, and he put his hand forward to shake Ace’s. “Hey, man, thanks so much for coming. And I see you already found Shayne. That’s great. I figured since you two are friendly, it’d be a cool surprise that you worked on the film.”

  “Absolutely, it was my pleasure.” Then he gestured toward me. “So you already know Shayne?”

  “Of course I do. She’s my—” He stopped when he saw Ace’s hand move to my lower back. His brow furrowed and he blinked, as though to make sure he was seeing things right. Then, when Ace pulled me closer, Nate’s eyes jerked up to mine.

  It was like a car spinning out of control with no way to stop it as the horror of realization in his eyes clashed with the absolute despair I knew were in mine.

  No. No. No. My mind went from numb and hazy to instantly clear. All the things I should’ve said before this moment, the contract I should’ve broken for the man in front of me, the lies I never should’ve told…it all hit me then that I’d played this game wrong. So very, very wrong. And now it was time to pay, in the most fucked-up, combustible way possible.

  “She’s your…?” Ace asked when Nate didn’t answer.

  Nate’s eyes were pleading, begging me to tell him that what he was seeing wasn’t the truth. That I wasn’t a liar, that I was his and his only. They told me exactly what he wasn’t going to say out loud: Why would you do this? I trusted you. I cared about you. Is this some kind of fucking nightmare? And finally, I don’t understand.

  When I didn’t refute his assumptions, Nate’s gaze dropped to the floor and he swallowed hard. Then a moment later, he lifted his head and met Ace’s stare straight on, giving him a tight smile. “Friend,” he said finally. “Shayne is just a friend.”

  “Ah, it’s amazing how small the world can be, right?” Ace said, squeezing me to his side.

  Nate’s jaw clenched at the move. “Right. Listen, I’ve got to get things ready, but Monica over there with the clipboard will show you to your seats.”

  “Great, thanks. Good luck in there.”

  Nate gave a curt nod and, without a glance in my direction, headed into the auditorium. When he disappeared into the room, I briefly wondered if I’d imagined what had just happened. But then Ace spoke, and that hope was dashed.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You look a little pale.”

  “What?” I tore my eyes away from the auditorium doors and looked up at him. “I just…don’t feel so great. Is there a restroom?”

  He searched out the foyer and then walked me over to one on the far side of the room. Thank God he had his arm still around my waist, because my legs were two seconds from giving out underneath me, and the last thing I needed him or any of the other guests to see was me collapsing into a broken mess.

  As I crouched down in the last stall of the restroom, I pulled at the sides of my eyes so the tears wouldn’t fall.

  How could I go in there and sit with Ace and face Nate again? This was his night, the one I should’ve been by his side for, and there I was shoving another man in his face. He didn’t know it wasn’t what it looked like, and when would I get a chance to tell him? After what he’d just seen, would he even hear me? And did I blame him? Not one damn bit.

  The cold tile against my arm helped the lightheadedness fade, and I rested my head against it and closed my eyes. I’d been too late. I’d wanted to tell him, wanted to come clean, but it had been too little, too late, and now things were fucked to hell.

  My stomach roiled, and if there’d been anything in it, it all would’ve come up. But I hadn’t eaten anything all day, my nerves had been too shot, and now it felt like some eerie sense of foreboding. My body somehow knowing what would happen before my mind had a chance to catch up.

  “Shayne?” Ace’s voice echoed in the restroom, and I quickly got to my feet and smoothed my dress. “You’re not passed out in here, are you?”

  “N-no, I’m okay,” I said, willing my voice not to shake, though it did anyway. I took a deep breath, wiped my brow again, and then exited the stall. Ace was standing in the doorway, and I gave him a thin smile. “Sorry. Better now.”

  “Just making sure,” he said, and then looked over his shoulder. “It’s starting soon, so we should get to our seats.”

  “Okay. Be right there.”

  He ducked out as I washed my hands and checked my face for any sign that my life was falling apart. My eyes were tinged pink, and I was definitely flushed, but you couldn’t tell by looking at me that I was cracking underneath.

  I took Ace’s arm again as we headed into the auditorium, led by the woman Nate had pointed out. The room was packed, and all eyes were on us as we walked toward the front of the room, where a huge white scr
een had been erected on the stage.

  Of course the woman pointed us to seats that were in the front fucking row, only feet away from where Nate stood at a podium getting set up with a wireless mic.

  That’s it. I want to shrivel up and die.

  When Nate turned around, his eyes went directly to mine, sending a stab of pain directly into my heart. The hurt was still there, but now something else accompanied the pain.

  Nate was pissed.

  He sent one final dagger my way before buttoning his suit jacket, and standing beside fellow classmates and an older gentleman who, I presumed, was one of his instructors.

  “Good evening, and thank you all for coming,” the older man’s voice boomed into the microphone. “As the dean of the School of Cinematic Arts, I’d like to welcome you to our spring showcase, featuring our most promising graduate students.”

  A round of applause, and then the man spoke in detail about the school’s program before introducing the student filmmakers standing next to him. I couldn’t have told you anything he said. My focus, as much as I tried to look away, rested solely on the man in the navy suit I’d helped pick out two weeks ago. The man who was actively looking anywhere and everywhere except in my direction, his body a ball of energy that was restless and bursting to break free.

  “The first film featured this evening is a contemporary short by Nate Ryan, featuring Sophia Jones and Howard Klein, with a special appearance by Ace Locke, who’s joining us tonight,” the man said, gesturing in our direction as thunderous applause met my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nate politely clapping, but his eyes stayed on the dean. Just as well. I couldn’t handle meeting his eyes either.

  “Mr. Ryan will be taking questions for ten minutes following the film and then we’ll break briefly. Please enjoy.”

  There was another round of applause, and then the lights went dark and the screen on the stage lit up. A blurry red circle appeared, taking up almost the entire expanse, and then slowly the camera pulled back. As the object came into focus, it became obvious that it wasn’t actually an object at all. It was a young girl, with flaming red hair that covered her crouched form like a shroud as she gazed down at a group of boys roughhousing on a beach from her perch high above. Her expression was wistful, and when one of the boys looked up, she jerked back, out of view. Again and again, the same action shown throughout the years, the girl growing into a young woman, the boy into a young man, but no words exchanged, no interaction other than the brief acknowledgment of the other.

  But there was a tenderness there, and it was that same young boy who grew into a man that turned the tide after several years, finally approaching her from behind.

  The story wasn’t overcomplicated. It was a simple love, theirs, as undeniable and natural as an ocean breeze, but it was what he’d achieved visually that was the focus. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen for a moment. He pulled you in with close-ups, panned out to visually stunning landscapes, the colors and textures so rich and vibrant it was like you were there. The soundtrack rose and fell, perfectly matching the emotion of the actors. I almost didn’t recognize Ace as her overprotective father, his performance so gentle, such a light touch, but one that tugged the heartstrings. The film was everything that encompassed Nate—a beautiful, artistic soul with love at its core.

  When the screen went black and the lights came back up, the audience was up on their feet, a roar of applause echoing around the room, and as I stood up, tears stung my eyes. I was overwhelmed by what I’d just seen, my heart full, and just proud. So unbelievably, terribly proud. My eyes sought out Nate, and when they landed on his from where he now stood behind the podium, my heart thundered in my chest. I’d felt his gaze on me during the film, but I hadn’t dared turn his way, hadn’t wanted to see a look on his face like the one I saw now.

  “Thank you,” he said, when his eyes moved over the crowd. He swallowed hard and then tried for a smile, but there was no light behind his eyes. “I appreciate you all coming out tonight, and I’m honored to stand before you to present my final work here at USC. It’s been an extraordinary experience, and I’m excited to move on to the next step in this journey. I’ll take any questions you may have now.”

  Several hands went up, and Monica handed a microphone to an audience member.

  “Congratulations on a beautiful piece of work. I was wondering what the inspiration for your project was?”

  Nate was silent for a long moment, his eyes downcast. Then he stroked his jaw and said, “Love.”

  The woman waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she asked, “Could you expand on that a bit?”

  “I suppose the inspiration came from a personal experience. When two people can come together it’s always a sort of miracle, whether they’re from different backgrounds, have different beliefs, and with all the challenges they face both individually and together. Love doesn’t discriminate, it just…happens. I wanted to showcase that, without distractions, without unnecessary conflict.” His eyes went to mine before quickly moving away. “Just something pure and untainted. Strong.”

  Pure. Untainted. Strong. I stopped breathing.

  An older gentleman stood up, taking the microphone. “The film was both stirring emotionally and stunning visually. What message were you hoping the audience would come away with?”

  “Well, if I’ve done my job right, you leave feeling…” He paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. I was close enough to see the slight shaking of his hand, which he then ran through his hair. “…hopeful.”

  When the man nodded and passed the microphone to the next person, Nate shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, that’s all the questions I’ll be answering this evening,” he said, before unclipping his microphone and setting it on the podium. His legs took long strides up the aisle, and as he left the auditorium, I jumped up after him.

  It didn’t matter that I was there with Ace. It didn’t matter that I would probably break my ankles running in heels. And it didn’t matter who saw me do it. His words had been a stake in the heart, and there was no way to stanch the bleeding, not without him.

  He was halfway across the foyer when I called out for him, but he didn’t turn around. His hands were at his throat, undoing his tie and then ripping it off as he stalked for the front door.

  “Nate… Nate, stop, please.”

  He jerked around so fast, I almost lost my balance. He pointed at me, his jaw clamped tight, and the muscles in his neck corded. “Don’t.” Then Nate’s eyes shot over my shoulder as Ace came up behind me.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, looking between us.

  “Not a thing,” Nate answered, the skin around his eyes bunching as his pained stare seared my skin. “Not a damn fucking thing.”

  Then he pushed out of the door, leaving it to slam shut behind him, and when I wobbled on my feet, Ace gripped my arms to steady me.

  “What the hell was that?” Ace’s tone had gone from concerned to authoritative, and when I began to sob, he quickly ushered us out to the car. He let me cry without any more questions, and not even rubbing my arms stopped the shivering, nor did it soothe as my mind went wild with random thoughts. Would I ever see Nate again? Would I get a chance to apologize? Had his parents been there? But of course they had. I hadn’t met them yet, but they knew who I was, and now they’d been privy to the embarrassment and hurt I’d caused their son. Great. Just…

  Ace’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You’re involved with him.” Not a question.

  I nodded.

  “And he didn’t know about me.” Another non-question.

  My eyes lifted to his, and he sighed, rubbing his hands on his slacks.

  “Why do I feel like somehow this is my fault?” he said quietly.

  “No. It’s mine.” I turned to face him and then asked, “How did… I mean, how did you—”

  “Become involved?” He rubbed his hand over his buzzcut. “I’d stopped by his class one d
ay a few weeks ago while visiting with my old professors. You and I had talked about starting small, and getting back to the root of things. They told me about this student of theirs, one with an incredible gift for storytelling, and that he still needed someone to fill a pivotal role in his project. I took a look at some of his other work and approached him about helping out. I just thought…” He sighed again. “I just thought it would’ve been cool if someone had done that for me when I was in school. We all start somewhere, and hell, the kid’s talented, so you never know where he’ll end up or how high he’ll go. And, you know, I thought he looked familiar, but I didn’t piece it together until now. But he was in Las Vegas that night I met you, wasn’t he? The guy that was staring at you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he knew who I was. To you, I mean.”

  “He knew I’d met with you that night, but he didn’t know why. He assumed we were friends.”

  “You care to explain the rest?”

  Not really. I wanted to melt into the seat, but I owed him an explanation.

  “I met Nate shortly before meeting you. Kept running into him, and he was so persistent…” I said. “And then, somehow, that story about you in the paper happened, and…I was sort of thrown out without a net, without any idea what I was supposed to do or if it was my fault, and when I saw you that day at your house, you were so miserable and lost…I just reacted. I didn’t think about the consequences.”

  “So by helping me, it’s fucked whatever you have going on with this guy.”

  “No, that was my choice.”

  “Yours? Or Roger’s? Martina’s idea, maybe? What about your boss, Val? Did you really have a choice, or were you forced into it, Shayne?”

  “I still would’ve helped you.”

  He sat there quietly, a storm brewing behind his dark eyes. There was a grim twist to his mouth, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough as sandpaper. “Do you love him?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Fuck, Shayne,” he said under his breath. “Just fuck.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE