Chapter Thirty-Three
I’d interviewed some pretty sexy people, but supermodel Dominic was so gorgeous I kept forgetting my questions every time I looked into his incredible eyes. Blue with an intense gold-orange around the pupils, they somehow caught mine harder than anyone else’s eyes ever had, and in the rare moments I managed to look away from them his perfect bone structure didn’t let me look far. The guy was stunning in photos. In real life, he was so exquisite I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he was a robot.
He was funny and friendly, though, with an “aw, I’m not so great” tone in his voice as he discussed his accomplishments that I admired. My cousin’s friend had kindly let us use his apartment for our Wednesday afternoon interview so Dominic would actually be able to pay attention to me instead of being attacked by fans. I hadn’t spoken to Ron again since Saturday’s swim meet but knowing that he didn’t hate me had soothed me enough that I could relax and enjoy talking to Dominic, and we’d been chatting for an hour and except when my mind went blank from sheer shock at his looks we’d been having a great time.
But I hadn’t learned a single thing I didn’t already know.
In the back of my mind, like an annoying phone notification that wouldn’t be permanently silenced, I kept hearing Simon telling me he wouldn’t post my article if I didn’t find out whether Dominic was gay. I didn’t want to ask Dominic about that, and I didn’t think he’d answer anyhow, but I couldn’t help feeling that I was wasting Dominic’s time and mine too since Simon would just kill my interview so I cleared my throat and made myself say, “Lots of people, you know, wonder about your love life.”
Dominic leaned back in his chair and those amazing eyes seemed to lose their glow. “And I always say no comment when they wonder. This time won’t be any different.”
I wouldn’t be any different, if I tried to push him on it. Interfering in things that weren’t my business had caused me enough trouble lately, and I wouldn’t do it again. “You know what? Good for you.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I wondered if asking him who kept them so flawlessly shaped was inappropriate and decided it probably was. Instead, I said, “I mean it. My boss wants me to find out, but... it’s got nothing to do with your work. It’s your personal life. Nobody needs to know but you.” I smiled as a funny thought struck me. “And your partner, of course. If you in fact have one.”
“I do,” he said, without expression, but I remembered that he’d never even admitted that much before.
“Congrats,” I said, trying to match his tone.
He laughed. “Not going to harass me to tell you?”
“Would it work?”
He shook his head, then said, “Actor.”
“He... she... is an actor?”
“Yup. He or she is an actor.”
I grinned at him. “Thanks for narrowing that down.”
He grinned back. “You’re welcome. Next question?”
I started asking him about his new contract with the designer Zephyr, who’d recently released a new line of bags for men and had managed to score him as her spokesmodel, but before I could finish he said, “You know Agnes and Steve, right?”
Surprised, I said, “As in Mild and Bond? Not personally, of course. I’d love to interview them someday but they’ve been in Europe working on that car racing movie for months.”
He nodded, and didn’t speak.
“Why,” I said slowly, “did you bring them up?”
“They’re actors.”
I wondered, for a second, if my gorgeous model friend had lost his mind, since everyone knew that, then realized what he was saying. “He and she are actors. And he or she is...”
He nodded. “We’ve been together for two years. And the other one is one of my best friends.”
Since it had long been rumored that Agnes and Steve were more than just colleagues and Dominic was suggesting that wasn’t the case, this was definitely the kind of scoop Simon would like.
Though I couldn’t believe it of myself, I decided that I would not include it in my article. Every instinct said this would make my career, and that was why I couldn’t do it. Dominic hadn’t had to tell me, and I would keep his confidence. Nothing else felt right.
Trying to ignore the voice of Simon in my head, which was now saying, “You’re crazy” over and over like some demented cuckoo clock, I said, “Well. How ‘bout that. Now, since you insist on saying ’no comment’ to my question about your sexuality and I haven’t heard a single other thing that nobody else knows for my article, is there anything you can tell me that people don’t already know? Or have I in fact missed something that you’d want me to use as scoop?”
He blinked once, then gave me a smile so electric it could have powered every house in Portland for a month. “Well, since you haven’t heard a single other thing that you can use, I suppose telling you something is only fair.” He stroked his perfect chin. “Let me think.”
As long as I could watch him think, I had no problem with that.
“How about...” His hand dropped to the table. “Can I send a quick text?”
“Of course.”
He did, and we chatted about his ad campaign with Zephyr until his phone buzzed. He took a quick look and said, “Okay. Can you use the fact that I’m in this Agnes and Steve movie?”
He’d been asked repeatedly in the past and had sworn he’d never go into acting. I stared. “Really?”
He laughed. “Yup. Steve gets kidnapped and Agnes and I, who hate each other in the movie, have to team up to save him. Racing sport cars all over Europe.” He shook his head. “Gorgeous gorgeous cars. I didn’t want to let any of them go.”
“I’m sure.” No details of the plot had been released so far, because the names “Agnes and Steve” were enough to get people interested. Adding “Dominic” to that would be box-office gold. “And I’m allowed to report on this?”
He nodded. “That’s what the text was for. Had to check. We were going to announce it Friday but I like you.”
I blushed, and he added, “And since, as you say, I didn’t give you any other scoop... I like the idea of you getting this one.”
So did I. More than he knew. Yes, it wasn’t the ‘gay or not?’ Simon wanted, but being the first to report on his movie involvement would be huge. “Thank you so much.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the most enjoyable interview I’ve ever had.”
He winked at me. I almost fell out of my chair.
“Any more questions?”
“Just one,” I said, recovering. “I really must know: who does your eyebrows?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ron shook his head. “I guess your boss was pleased?”
I couldn’t help giggling. I’d been giggling a lot in the two days since I’d handed in my story on Thursday, loving the situation I’d put Simon in without meaning to. “You’d think, but actually he was pissed. He wanted to know whether Dominic was gay, and I didn’t find that out so he wanted to be mad at me but he couldn’t be when I got the movie scoop. And now he’s sending me to a music awards show in Toronto next weekend even though he doesn’t want to because that new pop star Lucy Lucky insisted she’d only do an interview for me. Poor guy,” I said sarcastically.
Ron grinned. “From the sounds of it, he deserves whatever pain he gets.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
“What was that?”
I blinked. “What was what?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. You looked weird for a second when I said the guy deserved it.”
“I am weird,” I said, trying to hide how surprised I was that Ron had recognized my emotions at the thought of Simon and what he’d put me through. I still felt sick whenever I thought of my hand sliding into his pants.
“Yeah, but...”
I pretended fury. “Yeah?”
We chuckled. “Anyhow,” Ron said, “before I get deeper in trouble, congrats on the
article. Even if, maybe especially if, it made your boss mad.”
“Thanks.” I took a deep breath and made myself ask what I was afraid to ask. “Did you get a chance to talk to everyone?”
He sobered too. “Yeah.” His eyes met mine. “You sure you want to know?”
“Not even close to sure. But I need to, right?”
“Guess so.” He sighed. “Kent and MC had me and Liv and her boyfriend and Aaron and Ashley and Sam and a couple of other people over for a movie last night, so I did it then.”
“Brave,” I murmured.
He looked at me as if wondering whether I was being sarcastic. I wasn’t, and he must have recognized it because he said, “Okay. Well, MC wouldn’t talk to me about you at all. She... well, she walked out. Locked herself in their bedroom.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining the scene and feeling horrible for it, then opened them and said, “Okay. Well, it’s not, but you know what I mean.”
He nodded. “Kent didn’t stay long either since he had to go after her, but he did stay long enough to listen to my explanation, to what you’d told me.”
My heart pounded. “And?”
Ron folded his arms. “He has the same opinion as everyone else, I’m afraid.”
“Which is?”
He studied me a moment then said, “They think you sabotaged the wedding.”
I stared. “Why? I mean, why would I?”
He cleared his throat, but his voice was still rough when he said, “To get Kent back.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“You guys were married,” he said, sounding like the words hurt. “It can’t have been easy to watch him get ready to marry someone else. And even to make her dress?” He grimaced. “And the fact that you made it different from how she wanted it also makes them suspicious that you were trying to cause trouble.”
I sighed. “I was trying,” I said weakly, “to make her look a little less like herself so I could say it wasn’t her if a camera crew showed up.”
He tipped his head to one side. “But one did show up and you didn’t say that.”
“I didn’t get a chance. And I panicked.”
“You have to admit,” he said slowly, “they’re right that it looks kind of... kind of like you might have been trying to screw up the wedding.”
I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t. I had not been trying to do that, but if I had been I probably couldn’t have done a better job. And I had found it difficult at times to see Kent so in love with someone so different from me.
“I didn’t want to do that,” I said, “and I didn’t consciously do anything because I wanted him back. But...” I shrugged. “I can see how it looks like that, and maybe on some level...” I cut myself off because he looked horrified. “Not on purpose,” I said quickly. “I never once thought, ‘I’m going to mess up his wedding and then Kent will take me back.’ I think he and MC are supposed to be together, I really do. I promise you, I didn’t decide to wreck it.”
“But you can’t say for sure you didn’t do it unconsciously.”
I spread my hands. “How can anyone say what they did unconsciously? Kent’s the only man I’ve ever loved, the only one I’ve ever...” I couldn’t say ‘done anything sexual with’, after Simon, so I said, “slept with. And when we split up, it was all so sudden and crazy. And my fault. And he’s a great person.” I shrugged again. “But I didn’t ever intend to screw up his wedding. I swear. I wouldn’t have tried to take him from MC. Not on purpose.”
“You’d have taken a replacement for him, though. Right?”
I blinked, not sure what he meant, then with shock knew exactly what he meant. “I never saw you that way, Ron. Not once. What was happening... with us...” I trailed off because his eyes were so cold and so hurt I couldn’t say anything else but, “I knew it was you. Trust me.”
But his expression said he wasn’t sure he could.
And, thinking back to how much seeing Kent and MC together had hurt at times, I couldn’t help wondering if my unconscious mind had indeed wanted to split them up.
So maybe Ron was right. Maybe I couldn’t be trusted.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“And to what do we owe this unexpected but delightful visit?”
I shifted in my chair. “I’m going to have to miss your party on Thursday so I figured I should tell you in person.”
Mom frowned and Dad said, “You’ve known about it for months, though. It’s not every day your mom’s been a tenured professor for ten years. And it’s your birthday too and we were going to have a special cake for you, and you’re telling us on the Sunday beforehand that you won’t be there?”
“I know,” I said, touched by the special cake, “and I really am sorry. It’s a work thing.”
They looked at each other. “What are you doing?” Mom said.
“It’s a...” I sighed. “You’ll think it’s stupid, but it’s the truth. I’m going to Toronto for the MusicStation awards. One of the new pop stars read an interview I wrote and wants me to interview her too, and I’m also going to track down Misty Will and Angel Dove and maybe even--” Their eyes were glazing over so I said, “Well, other people you wouldn’t care about. But lots of people do care about them and they’re starting to trust me, which is huge. So anyhow, I need to be there. Even though it’s stupid.”
“Summer, don’t be ridiculous,” Mom said briskly, heading off to the kitchen to get the coffee that had finished brewing.
I looked after her, confused. “I wasn’t trying to--”
“And yet you displayed remarkable prowess,” Dad said, smiling at me.
“I... what?”
Mom returned from the kitchen with the coffee pot and began filling our mugs. “He means you are being ridiculous. And he’s right. It’s not stupid, honey. Why would you say that?”
“It’s celebrity crap,” I said, still confused. “And you’ve always said it was--”
“It’s not for us,” Dad said, “but then what we find interesting isn’t engaging for everyone.”
No shit, I thought but managed not to say.
“And you’re having success, from the sounds of it. Being recognized for your achievements. That’s terrific. And do your friends read your work?”
My throat tightened. “I’m a little short on friends at the moment,” I admitted. “But lots of other people do.”
Dad didn’t react to this but Mom said, “What do you mean, ‘short on friends’?”
I couldn’t bear to tell the whole story. “Basically, I messed up Kent and MC’s wedding while trying to make sure my boss didn’t mess it up. So they, and their friends, aren’t talking to me. Well, Ron is now, but nobody else.”
“But you’re still trying with them, right? And still trying to advance your career?”
I nodded. “Yes to both. I got Ron to ask them to let me see them to explain, and he’ll tell me tomorrow before we go swimming if they said yes. If not...” I sighed.
“Yes?”
“Then I’ll just need to find another way to convince them. I need them back, and I need the career, so I’ll keep trying until I figure out how to have both.”
Mom patted me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you. You’re using your skills, and that’s a good thing.”
Even if it hurt my friends?
I must have looked like I was thinking that because Mom said, “Obviously your friendships should come first, and I’m pleased that you’re still attempting to recover those. But you’ve always been an excellent conversationalist and I’m glad you’re using that in your career.”
“Thanks,” I said, surprised and trying to remember whether she’d ever complimented me on anything work-related before.
*****
The next afternoon, I stared at Ron, feeling tears rising and fighting them back. “Really?”
He blinked. “That bothers you?”
“Well, obviously.”
“Yeah, but... it really bothers you, doesn’t
it?”
More than I could tell him. “I thought we were getting to be good friends, before,” I said. “I can see she’d be mad, but...”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s gone past mad.”
For sure, if Liv was actively encouraging Kent and MC to stay away from me and to refuse my request, sent through Ron, to meet with them and explain what I’d done and why.
I drummed my fingers against my sewing table. “She hates me that much?”
“Maybe you could see it as she likes MC that much?”
I pulled my mouth to one side. “Not sure I can. We were...” I sighed. “I’ve never really had close friends, you know. Tons of acquaintances and stuff but nothing really close. I had Kent, but obviously that ended when we split up. I thought Liv was becoming my first real female friend.”
Ron gave my shoulder an awkward pat. “I’m sorry. I do think she’s trying to make sure MC doesn’t get upset, especially since she’s pregnant, but... yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. And thank you for trying. I really appreciate it.”
We sat in silence for a moment then he said, “Should I go?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I can’t lose you too, you’re my only-- I mean, if you even are my--” I fanned my face. “Is it hot in here?”
“Yeah, actually,” he said, his cheeks reddening too. “That lamp on your desk must be giving off a ton of heat.”
I laughed. “Not sure about that. But we can blame it. It won’t complain.”
“Good to know. Anyhow, friend,” he said, putting a wonderful emphasis on the word I hadn’t been able to say in case he’d refused to accept it, “get that swimsuit put together so we can go have our own swim.”
“Sure. Fifteen minutes?”
“No problem. Can I watch?”
“Of course.”
I spread out the pink-leopard-print fabric I’d salvaged from an old swimsuit and began talking, as I always did, to guide myself through the process of rebuilding a vintage black bikini to make something completely new. “This pink stuff’s going to go diagonally across both pieces, and I want to line it up so it looks like it could have kept going right across Angel’s stomach.”
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