Falsies (The Makeup Series Book 1)

by Olive East

  From the back of my mind, a tiny nugget of advice I tucked away years earlier came rolling to the forefront. Sadie told me that in order to get on the parents’ good side, the girlfriend must compliment the mom on raising a terrific son and flirt with the dad. Not in a gross or overt way, but in more of a complimentary I-can-tell-you-used-to-be-something kind of way.

  “Mrs. Brooks probably wouldn’t want to wake up to that every day.” I patted his arm in what I meant to be a funny gesture.

  Alan laughed, wiping away any fear I had of that being a rude thing to say or a weird thing to do. “You’re probably right. But me”—he draped his arm over my shoulders and led me a step closer to the painting—“I can’t get enough of the view.”

  “Do you have any other pieces? I’d love to see them.”

  “I have a few things I’d like to show you.”

  “Great,” I said with a hint of a giggle. None of it was me, but Alan seemed to be enjoying our conversation so I tried to keep it up. It turned out the key to being able to chitchat is to pretend I was someone else.

  “Of course, I’d have to wait for a more private time to give you the whole tour.”

  “You’d wait?” I asked.

  “Yes. That way we could really take our time to discuss and explore.”

  “You must have a lot to show me,” I said, feeling out of the loop.

  “I do.” He laughed. “And I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

  “Honey?” Gwendolyn called from down the hall. I jerked away from Alan like I did something wrong. Did I? “William is anxious to leave.” She rounded the corner, and she was the one who looked anxious.

  “Coming, dear,” Alan answered like a husband from a fifties sitcom.

  “Follow me,” Mrs. Brooks said in my general direction.

  I obeyed and Alan followed just a few steps behind. Seeing Brooks standing in the spot we’d left him in comforted me. I had to hold myself back from jumping him.

  “Here you are,” Alan said, holding out a large brass key ring with more than a couple worn keys on it. Brooks reached for it while my mind buzzed with questions about what they could possibly go to, and with relief that the end to the horribleness was in sight.

  But just before the keys could settle into his palm, Alan pulled them away. “You can have them under one condition.”

  “Yeah, we’ll be extra careful, Dad.”

  I hardly recognize the voice as coming from Brooks, it was so annoyed and angst-filled. It made me seriously wonder what he was like as a teenager. Previously I had pictured a biology-studying goody two shoes, but now he had me envisioning black clothes and punk music. I could get into that.

  “Not that. Well, yes, that. You have to be careful. But you can have the keys if you will promise to return them tonight and stay for dinner.”

  Alan was the only one in the room who seemed to think that was a good idea. Gwenny nibbled her lip and looked away to avoid eye contact. Brooks shifted his weight while taking my hand in his.

  “Fine,” he agreed. “We’ll come to dinner.”

  Chapter Twenty

  We were safely in the car and on our way to our second unknown location of the day. Neither of us had said a word since we left the mansion almost a half hour before. If it weren’t for his Swedish hip-hop music playing in the background, I would’ve gone mad from silence.

  Brooks’s mood was so unreadable it was disturbing. I wondered if he could read me, like he always could, because I myself wasn’t sure how I was feeling. I had no idea what had happened at his house or why he brought me there if he was going to act this way, but I had to give him time to tell me.

  I placed my hand on top of his on the steering wheel. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He turned his attention to me for a second. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I told him back, feeling the least fine I had all day. He wasn’t fine either. He didn’t even hold my hand, so I put it in my lap. “We could just go home.”

  “No,” he said once, then again more definitively. “No. I’ve been planning this trip since the first night we met.”

  The memory made me smile. “Ah yes, the night I called you a stalker and was so rude to you.”

  “That’s the one.” He laughed in that sexy way he always did and squeezed my knee, making me relax a little.

  “S-o-o-o.” I dragged out the word. “You fantasized about me?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said I thought about you.”

  “Thought, fantasied, what’s the difference?”

  “For starters, one makes me sound creepy and deviant, while the other makes me sound romantic.”

  “Uh huh.” I pressed on, trying to lighten the mood even further. “And at any point was I naked in any of these thoughts?”

  We turned off the main road and onto a much smaller one I wouldn’t have noticed if I passed it a hundred times.

  “Hmmm.” He sighed and wrinkled his forehead as if he was really thinking about it. “Perhaps in a couple fleeting thoughts, but my imagination isn’t that great.”

  He slid his hand up my thigh and it got very hot in the car. I reached forward to turn the temperature down, hoping it would help. “Well, mine is phenomenal. Ya know, with me being the creative type and all.”

  “You have been known to get rather creative.” His hand left my thigh and began pulling down the already kind of low-cut neck of my sweater. I turned the heat off completely. We didn’t need it anymore.

  But before we got into a situation that was totally unsafe for driving, Brooks glided the car to a stop at yet another expansive wrought iron security gate.

  “Why’s there a gate in the middle of this field?” I asked instead of saying Where the hell are we?

  “Because it’s protecting something very important.” He punched in a security code on a pad identical to the one at the house.

  The road under us turned into gravel that popped and crackled as we drove along, but other than the long, lonely stretch there wasn’t much else to look at. Why the hell did we need keys to go to the middle of nowhere?

  “Did you bring me out here to kill me?”

  Brooks really cracked up at that one. “Why would I want to kill you, or involve my parents in the plan, for that matter?”

  “I don’t know.” I thought it was a valid question. Not that I thought he’d kill me, but we were in the middle of nowhere for seemingly no reason. Plus it would make sense of why he wanted to spend so much time with me.

  “Come here,” he said, reaching across the seat and pulling me to him.

  He guided my head to his until we were full-on making out. God, he was a skilled kisser, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that he was also still driving. We were in the middle of a field and moving at a snail’s pace, but something had to be out there and I’d rather not find it by crashing into it.

  Despite that fear, I let him kiss me for a little longer. The thrill and danger was a huge turn-on, I had to give him that. I ran my fingers along my lips when I pulled away. They were puffy and swollen.

  “We’re here,” he said, sounding out of breath.

  When I came out of my haze, I noticed a mammoth-sized red and white striped circus tent. Brooks stopped the Lincoln right in front of the padlocked front flap and I shot out of the car.

  “What’s this?” I asked as I approached the entrance. The tops of what looked like amusement park rides poked out in the background. The curved loop of a Ferris wheel, a sky-scraping slide, and a couple pieces of a wooden rollercoaster were all that could be seen in the otherwise empty field.

  “This,” he said, producing the keys his dad had given him, “is my eccentric great-grandfather’s collection.”

  I bounced on my toes in excitement as he unlocked the heavy flap to the tent and pulled it back. It was too dark for me to see anything, but the air inside was slightly warmer than on the outside and it smelled of motor oil, stale popcorn, and cotton candy.

  I
t was awesome.

  Drifting forward with my hands out in front of me for guidance, I bumped into something hard and metallic. “Dammit.” I cursed my inability to see in the dark. Brooks’s long arms were circling around me just a few seconds later.

  “Wait here,” he whispered after giving me a kiss on the neck.

  I did as I was told, watching Brooks venture off. I could only follow his movements because he was using the flashlight on his phone to make his way.

  Nothing happened for such a long time I started to get scared in the almost total darkness. There was no sound except the cold wintery wind whipping though the tent, and I realized one measly padlock wasn’t going to keep out the determined.

  “Brooks,” I called out to him, hoping for a response. “What’s goin’ on?”

  Instead of an answer, I heard the loud click-click-clicking of a dozen circuit breakers being turned on in succession, immediately followed by the buzzing thrum of thousands of lights coming to life.

  My eyes widened until they hurt, I was so eager to take it all in. Strand after strand of vintage gold-tinged bulbs hung from the center pole and weaved out to all edges of the tent. I was looking at an illuminated carnival paradise.

  Directly in front of me, I discovered the object I rammed my shins into was one of those old-timey popcorn machines with the huge gold wheels and glass-paneled doors. I ran my fingers along the edge as I strolled forward in the crowded tent.

  The banners had faded from their former colors but stood on tall stands and depicted scenes of brave lion tamers, intricately positioned trapeze artists, and balancing elephants to create a makeshift walkway. I edged further and further into the tent, looking through the open slats between banners for Brooks, but mostly focusing on the structure at the end of the walkway.

  I didn’t even know what to do with myself because I couldn’t believe it was my real life. Somehow, little old me ended up standing in a magical circus in the middle of a field in Pennsylvania. When I reached the carousel, I hoisted my leg up to the rather high platform, then froze.

  What if I was in more of a museum than a playground?

  I stomped my foot, clad in a trendy rather than functional tennis shoe, back down on the ground, but my fingers fluttered at my sides. I needed to sit on one of those horses. After taking a quick inventory of the ones facing my side of the ring, I knew exactly which one it would be.

  Before I could call out again to the amazing disappearing Brooks, the carousel lights flickered on and the classic tinkling music started to play.

  “Awesome or lame?” He stood by a clunky power switch to my left.

  “How’s that even a question? This is awesome.”

  “Wanna ride?” He moved around the attraction and extended his hand to me.

  “You or the carousel? Never mind. Yes to both.”

  He really, really cracked up at that.

  Brooks took my hand and led me around the curved ivory side to a small set of steps. I bounded up the steps and headed directly for my chosen horse.

  “Does this thing work?”

  “Yeah. Why would I bring you here for a broken carousel?”

  I had to think about that for a second as I stroked the long rosy mane of my horse. “This would still be pretty impressive as a museum, if nothing else.”

  I decided to call her Ariel because of the red hair and the fact the she was decorated like a mermaid with starfish, netting, and seaweed all over her saddle. She was only slightly chipped with sparkling blue-green swirls throughout her otherwise white paint, and I could tell she was magnificent in her day.

  “But this isn’t a museum, this is a carnival.”

  “How? What is this place?”

  “This”—he walked around the horse to stand beside me—“is a grand family tradition.”

  Brooks pinched my sides, making me laugh and cringe at the same time. “Meaning what, exactly?”

  I placed my foot on the solid stirrup and Brooks helped guide my hips until I was straddling the horse. “My great-grandfather was eccentric and an avid collector, to say the least—cars, art, carnival paraphernalia. His collections were passed down to my granddad and then my dad.” He never moved his hands from my hips, and his fingers were stroking the exposed skin where my sweater had ridden up. He was making it hard to focus. “My dad doesn’t care much for this stuff, only the cars and the paintings, but to me? This has real worth.” He kissed my cheek.

  “It’s like I can feel my family history when I’m here, you know? My dad thinks I’m insane, but Grandfather and Grandad loved this stuff.” He took his hands off me and gestured to the banners I’d just walked through. “See, some are even written in Swedish.”

  I hadn’t noticed before, but after he mentioned it I spotted three banners written in the foreign language. “That’s amazing. Really, I only ever met my grandma Oxmend, so to have something like this”—I gestured in a very Brooks-like manner—“is incredible.”

  Brooks gave me a sweet smile before pulling me into yet another kiss. “Okay, hold tight. I’m going to start the ride.”

  “I knew it. I knew Ariel worked.”

  “Ariel?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “My horse.” I patted her hindquarters. “She’s clearly an Ariel.”

  “Your horse? You’ve only been here ten minutes and you’re already claiming things as your own. I had to work my ass off to get everything in working order and you just take over.”

  “That’s why you brought me here…isn’t it? I mean, you know this is my style. I took over your house the first night I was in it.”

  I thought I’d get another giant laugh out of him with that one, but I didn’t. Instead his face got all serious, like I could see the thoughts filing through his head. He took my hand in his, then placed it over his chest.

  “You took over everything about me the night we first spoke. My thoughts and my heart.”

  Every single word I ever learned in my lifetime completely disappeared from my vocabulary. All I wanted was to say something equally romantic to him back. Maybe something about how not only could I be myself with him, but I was starting to like me when I was with him. Actually, I really wanted to tell him how much I loved him, but the words just weren’t there.

  So instead I pulled his face to mine, kissed him with all my love for him behind it, and tried to show him physically how much he meant to me.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  We managed to completely lose track of time despite having somewhere else to be. Well, maybe I didn’t lose track of time. The vibe from his parents’ house was too odd for me and I didn’t want to go back. We couldn’t eat dinner with them if we didn’t drop the keys back off until ten o’clock at night. So when I became aware of how late it was, I decided to distract Brooks with one of his favorite X-rated activities.

  It worked. For a while anyway.

  “Oh man, we have to go,” Brooks said after fishing his cell out of his pants. They’d been removed and forgotten hours ago. I had thrown them over Ariel’s face to cover her eyes. Even though she was older than me, she didn’t need to see what we were doing. “We’ll miss dinner.”

  “Really?” I asked as I got up, doing my best slow motion pace.

  “Yeah. So let’s move it.”

  Before I could pull any more stalling tricks, we were back in the car speeding away from magic and toward an evening that was the social equivalent of a dentist appointment.

  The only positive was that Brooks called Gwenny to let her know we were on our way rather than just showing up again. It was already after eight and we probably wouldn’t get back to their house until after nine, but no one seemed fazed by eating dinner at that hour.

  I did happen to find another positive once we arrived at the palatial estate. Marta was already off for the night. It wasn’t clear to me if she was home or just in her room, but either way I didn’t have to see her, so I was happy.

  Brooks held my hand as Gwendolyn led us to the
sunroom at the back of the house. Alan was already sitting at the table when we got there, and seeing him made my stomach clench. If Mrs. Brooks had been Sadie, I would swear she set the table purely for the photo op. There were white roses in a tall crystal vase in the center of the table with tiny baby’s-breath-filled vases all around it.

  The food itself was picture perfect too. She, or Marta, or both, had cooked up steak medallions, Swiss chard, and roasted red potatoes, all served in shiny white china, of course. It made me feel like I was at prom—red potatoes always made me think of catering—but I found where Brooks got his cooking skills from.

  “Hi, kids,” Alan said as Brooks pulled out the Chiavari chair for me. “So, how’s the lot?”

  I paused a beat, not sure if he was talking to me or Brooks. “It was incredible. Really amazing.” I stopped at that. So many things about our time at the lot contributed to the amazingness, but I wasn’t going to think about any of those while sitting across from his parents.

  “Great.” He clasped his hands, then smacked them on the table, getting a reaction from Gwenny.

  “Let’s eat. The food is getting cold.” Her tone sure was chilly.

  Brooks made a move to pull out his mother’s chair but she beat him to the seat.

  The food was absolutely outstanding. It took every single ounce of self-control in my body not to devour my plate in mere seconds. If it weren’t for my getting used to Brooks’s almost equally tasty dishes, I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold back. Before we met I rarely ate anything home cooked, unless nuking frozen burritos counted.

  The conversation flowed somewhat easily, yet left me feeling uneasy at the same time. I dug my fingers into my chair, fearing I was leaving nail marks, any time the conversation turned to my personal life. I’d rehearsed saying phrases like, “Unfortunately my dad is no longer with us,” and, “He recently passed away,” in the mirror at least two hundred times, but I never said them out loud to anyone. I’d probably fall to a thousand pieces if I had to explain.