Miss Congeniality

by Marie Garner

  She never wanted to leave the hotel room, but anxious worry about her brother was causing her to retreat into herself before the sheets cooled. Lance was in bewilderment as he watched the hardening shell engulf her while they were sitting on the same bed they had made love on less than an hour ago. She was in her fight mode, nothing overtaking her when the problems of yesterday threatened to overwhelm her. She refused to have a conversation with him about it, choosing instead to answer him in one- or two-word responses. He allowed her to wallow; he’d never been in her shoes, and the chances of his law-abiding sister and her police officer husband ever being arrested were about as good as seeing pigs fly, so he gave her space. The only option he saw for himself was to be there for her, this beautiful, broken, gorgeous woman who was still so entrenched in her past he could physically feel her pain when she talked about it.

  “Let’s go,” he commanded when Brea continued to stare out the window while seeing nothing. She flinched as though he had struck her, nodding a couple times and gathering her bags. He reached for her hand, half-scared she would reject him, but she simply clutched it like a lifeline. He stopped at the door, not wanting her to leave the room without knowing the magnitude of his feelings.

  “I love you,” he declared, watching disbelief, sadness, and wonder flash in those gorgeous gray eyes. She licked her lips nervously, nodded and reached for the door handle to leave. He put his hand on top of hers, holding her in place. He lifted her chin with the other hand so she was staring directly into his eyes.

  “I love you,” he said emphatically. “You think I can’t see what the shit going on with your brother is doing to you? I may as well have been in LA because you definitely weren’t in the room with me this morning.”

  “I’m scared.” She whispered.

  “I understand.” And he did. He may not have any family members facing the possibility of prison but when his sister was hurt in the car accident, his only recourse was to pray for the best. “But understand I’m here for you, and that’s not changing. And I have really big shoulders, so you are more than welcome to lean on them.”

  “What did I do to deserve you?” she asked honestly.

  “Nothing,” he replied, eliciting the laugh he was hoping for, “but I sure as shit deserve you, and I’m planning on keeping you. Whatever happens, we deal with it together, got it?”

  “Yes.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as usual, but it was better than ten minutes ago.

  “Brea! Lance! Over here!” Lance and Brea moved quickly through the media, trying to avoid the camera flashes. Photos and videos were to be expected at all times, something her agent had drilled into her head when she started being recognized from Maggie Beach, but never at this level of intensity. Whoever the hell tipped them off was an asshole in Brea’s mind, which was the only reason to explain the extra scrutiny. Lance walked beside her, his hand on the small of her back, never leaving her side while they navigated their way to the waiting driver.

  “Brea, what do you have to say about your brother?” The microphone shoved in her face prompted her to step back or be hit. Lance kept her moving, his face as firmly fixed as granite, giving nothing away when he quickened his pace. But this was bad, really bad, because how in the hell did they know about her brother?

  “Is it true your mother was a prostitute?” was screamed from the back. Fucking hell, they know about my mother.

  “Do you do drugs, too?” She stopped, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Brea wanted to curse him out for implying she was anything like her mother, but before she could set him straight Lance put his mouth to her ear and talked so only she could hear.

  “Don’t you say a fucking word! You know the drill; you walk straight ahead and do not smile or even react. We’ll deal with this in the car.” Great, now Lance was mad at her, too. While she wished she could punch the guy who asked her if she did drugs in the stomach, she knew he was only doing his job. Her job was to walk forward while she was subjected to a barrage of abusing questions about her family. These people were sharks who scented blood, and she didn’t want to become their latest victim. What was it like growing up with her mother? Did she ever consider becoming a prostitute? That one even made Lance clench his jaw but blessedly, they saw their driver up ahead.

  “Come back for the bags.” was the only statement Lance made before the driver ran to front of the car so he could get them away quickly. Brea faced front, ignoring the rapid-fire click of the camera going off beside her window. Do not break down, do not break down, she whispered over and over, breathing a small sigh of relief when the driver sped off.

  “I’m sorry,” she spoke in the suffocating silence. Lance wasn’t speaking; he was playing with his folded hands in his lap.

  “For what?” he asked curiously.

  “All that.” She waved her hand in a circular motion. “Although, I’m not really sure what all that is.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he felt brewing. “I’m not mad at you, baby; I’m mad for you. What the hell happened between when we left DC and when we came back to LA, I haven’t a clue, but I’m going to find out because that shit was crazy.” He studied her, huddled in a ball in the corner, her feet propped up on the seat with her arms around her legs, feeling a massive wave of possessiveness rise inside him. “How dare they bombard you at the airport with those bullshit questions?! And the shit about you being like your mom was way out of line.”

  “I know.”

  “Come here.” He held his arms wide and she fell into him, finally allowing herself the breakdown she so desperately needed. He clung to her, soothing her in the only way he knew how. She finally fell asleep, her head in his lap, overcome with all the excitement from the day. When Lance felt her breathing even out, he waited a couple more minutes before pulling out his phone. He didn’t know what in the hell caused that to happen, but he was going to find out because not only was that shit crazy, but no one threatened his woman as they did today.

  Brea awoke confused as to how she ended up in Lance’s bed and groaning when she saw the clock. All she remembered was crying all over him more than three hours ago. She hugged the pillow, breathing in the scent which specifically belonged to him, not wanting to get out of bed and face the rest of the day. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. This morning, she had been terrified for her brother, not wanting to talk about it, but Lance seemed to notice the minute she pulled away from him. Then, all the shit in the airport; how the hell they could have found out without someone telling them was impossible. Clare and Raquel knew about her family. She knew about their history, as well, but she hadn’t told them about her brother. The only person she told was Lance, and she wasn’t going there. She heard the unmistakable beep of her phone, which had magically ended up on the bedside table, signaling a text message.

  She smiled at Clare’s message, while Raquel’s made her groan.

  Clare: Thinking about you :) Call me if you need anything.

  Raquel: Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?! Call me- that’s not a request!

  “You’re up.” Lance was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest, looking good enough to eat. If she didn’t have to deal with more pressing matters, she would’ve tried to coax him into afternoon sex; although, all she really would have to do was kiss him and he’d be ready for her.

  “I am.” He read the questions in her eyes, hating what put them there.

  “I made some calls while you were asleep.” He stood there. What he had to say would hurt her.

  “And…” She gestured for him to get on with the story.

  “It was your brother.” She stared at him like he was an idiot.

  “I know it was my brother. I was in the airport when they were yelling questions about him at me.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not getting what I’m saying. Your brother is the one who told them.” Impossible. Her brother wouldn’t sell her out.

  “I don’t unde
rstand.”

  “It may be better if I showed you.” He disappeared into the other room, coming back with his laptop. He sat on the bed, wrapping his arm around her when she snuggled into his chest. “Remember how I was wondering what happened from the time we got on the plane in DC to the time we landed in LA? This has been airing on all the major news stations since someone picked it up this morning.” He pressed play, and Brea sat silently while she watched Alex talking to the judge. It was Alex, but this guy wasn’t the Alex she remembered. Her Alex had about fifty pounds on him, and his gray eyes always shown brightly. The guy on the video was too skinny, with eyes sunken into a pale face. He looked as though he had been in a fight because the places under his eyes appeared so bruised. Brea put her hand over her mouth to stop from crying out, so she missed the actual exchange of words, but he started screaming into the camera.

  She rewound the video back, her initial shock over with, so she could focus on what was actually happening. It started as a normal hearing, with the judge laying out the charges before him. He pled not guilty, then turned and started whispering to his lawyer. The lawyer looked to be telling him no, and Alex was getting more and more agitated. He turned behind him to talk to their Uncle Derrick, who had showed up with Silvia. Brea smiled; thankfully, they continued to support him, especially when he needed it most. They couldn’t give him the answer he wanted either from the looks of it.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Richards?” the judge asked sarcastically. Brea wanted to punch the guy; he didn’t have to treat her brother as if he was a common criminal. In the eyes of the law he would be, but Alex was still her brother.

  “I want my sister.” Brea’s stomach dropped, sensing what was coming.

  “I’m sorry? Did you say you want your sister?” The judge asked in disbelief. “Sir, your sister is not required to come to these proceedings at all. So I suggest…”

  “I want Brea! I want Brea Richards!” The look on the judge’s face said he knew who she was. The judge cocked his head at Alex and pointed to the bailiff, as though to ask him to remove him, but the damage was done. They dragged her brother away screaming for her, and whoever filmed the video must have known the implications when they let it leak. Her brother had to know what could happen to her reputation if this got out.

  Lance took the computer out of her hands, shutting it off and putting it beside the bed.

  “Why would he?”

  “I don’t know, honey.” he kissed her head and rubbed his hand down her arm.

  “I was going next week anyway.” She and Lance had talked about it last night. They would finish filming Friday and afterward have a two-week break, so she was going to fly out and make sure everything was being handled correctly with her brother’s case. Then she and Lance were going to go spend a couple of days in Oklahoma to meet his family, which was a bit nerve-racking, but Lance continued to reassure her they would love her.

  “I’m coming with you.” Lance had been planning to stay here to get some other work done and explore potential roles his agent had lined up for him to do during the summer months. She hated to think she dragged him into her family drama.

  “You don’t have to come. This is my family’s mess, and you don’t need to be sucked into the drama.”

  He put his finger on her lips to silence her. “Yes, I do. You’re mine, Brea. So if someone hurts you, even if it is your own brother, I’m going to be there to protect you. I don’t know the guy, but I do know, given the same circumstances, you would never have sold him out like that. You need to realize your brother has changed. He’s not the same guy, and I want to be there to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

  The quip about her brother hurt, but how could she be mad at a guy who was only looking out for her best interest? She wanted to argue on sheer principle, but she knew that was futile. He had dug his heels in to go with her, and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to go home alone anyway.

  “I could argue with you.”

  “You could,” he agreed. “We could go round and around about what you think is best for you, or you can just go ahead and agree now and save us both some trouble.”

  “You’re so damn bossy, Lance.”

  “Not really. I don’t want you to go at all, but I refuse to go alpha male on you and start beating my chest to put you where I think it’s best for you. I say this is a nice compromise.”

  “It is.” His talk of going alpha male was causing a tingling down her spine. “And I don’t want to talk about my brother anymore.”

  “You don’t.” He played along, knowing exactly where this was going when she unbuckled his belt, freeing his cock.

  “I never answered yes or no last time.” She slowly crawled down so her breath was over his dick, recalling when he asked if she would be willing to give him a blowjob.

  “You didn’t.” He grabbed her hair, his hips jutting up when she continued to breathe on him.

  “Well, if you couldn’t tell, the answer is yes.” She took him deeply, driving him to distraction. She was like an animal, and all he could do was enjoy the ride. They went two rounds and she would have pushed for more, but he finally had to call uncle on her insatiable appetite.

  Classic deflection, Lance thought later on when she was sleeping on his chest, but he refused to be mad about it, not when he was able to reap the rewards. But he was determined to watch her; her spacing out like she did this morning and using sex as an outlet were only short-term solutions to a long-term problem. And unfortunately, the long-term problem was her brother. He read the police report, had Derrick fax it over after they got through their awkward introductions and he explained he was going to be in her life for the long haul. Her brother had beaten the shit out of the guy; he was in a coma for a couple of days. Derrick seemed to think there was a good reason, and there better have been. Lance Holder was not about to see his woman walk into the lion’s den, not when the lion was capable of doing all kinds of crazy shit. But understanding what needed to be done and explaining it to Brea were two very different issues. She still saw the guy who protected her when they were young, and she would never believe that same guy might have turned into the same monster she always feared: her own mother.

  “What the hell, Brea?” Raquel waited until they were seated with food on the table before she laid into her. Brea had invited Raquel and Clare over for dinner —a decision she was now second-guessing —to clear the air and tell them what had been going on. She had warded off Raquel yesterday, explaining she only wanted to tell the story once, and Raquel had clearly waited long enough.

  “I’m sorry.” Brea read the hurt in both their eyes and knew her decision to keep quiet deeply troubled them.

  “How long?” Clare asked quietly, always one to hold judgment until she heard the full story.

  “A while. That night I got really drunk and Lance and I hooked up for the second time was the night I found out. Lance basically sat on me until I told him what was wrong, so it all came out in a jumbled mess.”

  “You should have told us.” Raquel began to fix her plate, probably so she didn’t have to look at Brea.

  “I know,” she answered miserably. “I was so embarrassed. I know I wasn’t the one to hurt the guy, but what the hell was my brother thinking? He beat the man until he was bloody and stopped only when someone physically restrained him. And now he may spend the next ten years in jail!” She crumpled the napkin she was holding, wishing it were her brother’s neck, because right now she hated him. As much as she loved him, she had to clean up one of his messes, not knowing if he even wanted her help. But she refused to let her brother get lost to the prison system. She would die if he went away, the very thought making her want to vomit.

  “What does his lawyer say?” Raquel flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  “He says my brother’s not talking to him, won’t tell him why he went ape-shit on the guy. My brother is not a violent person. Lord knows, he had the opportunity to beat the shit out of Mom�
��s men plenty of times and he never did, so part of it doesn’t make sense.”

  “You do know he was high, right? That can make people act crazy,” Clare told her gently, as though trying to soothe a spooked animal.

  “That’s what Lance says, but my brother isn’t normally like that. Or, at least he wasn’t before.”

  “So, what are you going to do, and what do you need us to do?” That was Raquel, straight to the point; and she’d never let Brea down, even if it could potentially cost her what little respect people had for her.

  “I don’t know why I kept this from you guys.”

  “Well, shit’s done. Only thing we can do now is fix it.” Raquel stated matter-of-factly.

  “At this point, I don’t really need anything, other than support from you guys. I hired a lawyer who told me he thinks he can get the case pled out to where my brother will serve minimal jail time, and I’m going to see him next week when we are on hiatus.”

  Clare put her hand on Brea’s arm in comfort. “Do you need us to go with you?”

  “No, Lance said he is going with me.”

  Raquel’s eyebrows arched at the news. “Oh, he did?”

  “Yes. And my relationship is closed.”

  “Come on,” Clare whined, “you’re the only one getting any.”

  “What happened to Jason?” Raquel asked.

  “He was quickly morphing into a stalker. The other day, he drove by my house when I wouldn’t answer my phone.”

  “I hate it when people just show up,” Raquel complained.

  “I wasn’t there when he drove by, but later on he called me and asked where I was, saying he didn’t see my car. After that, I realized I had to cut the cord.” She sliced her hand across her throat to mimic someone’s head being chopped off.

  Raquel rubbed her hands together. “Ohh, how did he take it?”