She frowned at me as she pulled a cardigan over her tank top. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look a bit red.”
My lips were still tingling from the kiss, and my body was still feverishly hot, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got in a quick workout before I came here.”
That was certainly one way of putting it.
Her face brightened. “Oh, cool. What did you do?”
“Er… yoga. I love yoga.”
“Me too! Anyway, I’m ready to go,” she said, holding up her purse.
I nodded. “We just need to stop by my room first. I have a surprise for you.”
We headed down the hall to my suite, and then I led Allegra into my walk-in closet. “What’s the surprise?” she asked, gazing around with wide eyes at all my clothes and shoes.
I smiled and opened a drawer. “I figured you probably aren’t ready to get mobbed by the paparazzi just yet,” I said, pulling out two wigs. One had curly brown hair and the other had straight, shiny black hair. “So we’re gonna wear these bad boys with giant dark sunglasses to help us get out.”
Allegra raised a brow. “I thought we’d just go out a back entrance or something.”
I shook my head. “The paparazzi are everywhere right now. Every door, even every window they can get to. All hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. God, am I ever going to get used to it?”
“Yes,” I said. “But for now…” I put the curly brown wig on her, then stepped closer to adjust it on her head.
“Will this trick really work?” she asked.
“Yes. I do it all the time, whenever I feel like going incognito.”
She grinned as I put my own wig on. “Your life is so interesting. I would’ve never thought I’d be doing anything like this in a million years.”
I winked. “Well, you are now. Just remember—whatever I do, play along.”
“Got it.”
We headed downstairs and right out the main entrance, where a sizable mob of paparazzi and reporters were already gathered, even though it was only eight in the morning. As we stepped through, one particularly rude journalist moved in front of our path.
“Hey! Have either of you seen Allegra Cadwell while you were in there?” he asked.
I cocked my head to the side. “Un café, s’il vous plait,” I replied, employing the only French I could remember.
“Bonjour,” Allegra mumbled next to me. I almost giggled at that, but managed to keep a straight face.
The reporter rolled his eyes. “Fucking tourists,” he muttered, standing aside.
Allegra and I kept walking in silence until we finally reached my car in its reserved spot. Then we collapsed into giggles, unable to believe that the reporters had actually fallen for our act.
“What did you say to that guy?” Allegra asked between peals of laughter.
I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I asked for a coffee. It’s the only French I remember from school.”
She was still laughing as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed onto Azure Boulevard. The ocean was a wonderful shade of cerulean today, and she finally calmed down and gazed out at it, a dreamy tone in her voice as she said, “It’s so nice to finally get out somewhere.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I mean, the Mirabella is amazing. But sometimes you just need some fresh air and some new scenery.”
We chatted about a few casual things as we headed toward the day spa—what we were looking forward to doing at the spa, what the best show currently on TV was, which actors we thought were hot.
The conversation drifted to a natural halt just as we reached a red traffic light. I looked over at my sister, eager to finally turn our chat in a more serious direction and also desperate to fill the awkward silence. “Hey,” I said. “Can I ask you something?”
Allegra smiled. “Peyton, you’re my sister. You can ask me anything. I really want us to get back on track.”
I nodded. “Okay. I just didn’t want to upset you.”
She arched a brow. “Don’t worry, you’ve already done enough of that. I’m immune to your wicked ways now,” she said, sticking her tongue out.
I laughed in a self-deprecating way. I deserved that. I had been really mean to her in the past.
“I guess I was just wondering what you remember,” I said. “Of the day you were taken, that is. And who took you. Stuff like that.”
Allegra sighed. “It’s like I told the police…there’s really not much to say. I was so young. I barely remember a thing. I don’t remember being taken, I don’t remember being kept anywhere, and I don’t even remember being left of the edge of that road in Kentucky.”
“Oh,” I said softly.
She frowned, then looked down at her lap and went on. “Sometimes I remember a flash of a face. Two faces. But I can never tell if they’re people I met when I was young, or just people from a movie I saw once upon a time. So that’s not really anything to go on.”
“I get it. I barely remember anything from when I was young either. It all gets so blurry, and you can’t tell if it’s real or not.”
She looked up. “Exactly. That’s it.”
“I hope you do remember one day, though. Whoever took you... I want them to pay for what they did,” I said, gritting my teeth and stepping on the accelerator as the light finally went green.
“Honestly, I’m just glad to finally be home,” Allegra said.
Guilt must have been etched plain on my face, because Allegra suddenly sat up straight in her seat. “Peyton, I want you to know something. What happened to me wasn’t your fault. It could’ve just as easily been you they took that day.”
“But it wasn’t. And I got to grow up with this luxurious life, while you—”
She held up a hand. “It wasn’t that bad. I moved around a lot, but some of the foster families were nice.”
Only some, I said to myself, feeling even worse.
“What did you do?” she asked curiously. “Once I was gone. What was it like living with that every day?”
I was quiet for a moment. “Mom, Dad and me…. we were like anyone else grieving something terrible,” I finally said. “We went through all those stages until we finally reached acceptance. At least that’s what I did. I didn’t want to accept it, but I had to in the end. So when you came back, it was just so confusing.”
“I get it.”
“I really am sorry I was such a bitch. I just… I guess I just couldn’t believe it was really you, after all these years.”
“Water under the bridge,” she replied. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Hey, this is kinda depressing to talk about. Let’s talk about something else.”
“What?”
“You,” she said, poking me in the arm as we stopped at another red light. “Are you seeing anyone? How’s work? What’s your favorite food? Tell me everything!”
I laughed. “Okay, um… favorite food: burritos.”
“No way. You don’t look like you’ve ever eaten a burrito.”
“Well, I have,” I said with a grin.
“What about the other questions? Are you seeing anyone?” she asked, her eyebrow raised in a devious way.
“Um…not really,” I said, turning my eyes back to the road.
It wasn’t entirely a lie, because I wasn’t sure what Cade and I were doing. We weren’t in a serious relationship, or any relationship at all, actually—it was more like a flirtationship. And did that really count as officially seeing someone? I mean, yes, we’d kissed, but that didn’t mean we were together, and I had no idea if something like that would happen again.
Oh, sure, pretend you don’t know…. a little voice in the back of my head said.
“What about work?” Allegra said. I was immediately grateful for the change in subject.
“It’s actually going pretty well,” I said. “For a while, I was getting kinda jaded with it all. But I just applied for something that I’m really excited about.”
> “Oh?”
I smiled. “Remember how I said I love yoga?”
“Yes.”
“There’s this company that makes yoga-wear—Nala. I love them. Anyway, they’re apparently looking for someone sorta famous to be a spokesmodel for them. And the last girl who did it said it was amazing. They do the coolest shoots in awesome places, and the staff are just really fun. I heard about the opening a few days ago, so I emailed them. Just waiting to hear back now.”
“That sounds great. Fingers crossed.”
We arrived at the day spa a moment later. The staff were aware that it was me and my long-lost sister, but they were very respectful and professional, and none of them asked any questions about her return.
We did everything under the sun: massages, facials, seaweed wraps, eyebrow threading, teeth brightening, body scrubs, and waxing. After soaking in a hot tub with flutes of champagne for an hour, it was time for our final activity—manicures.
“This has been amazing,” Allegra said as we waited for the nail technicians to arrive. Her face was still glowing from the facial.
“Well, you deserve it after all the stress of the last few weeks,” I said.
A petite redheaded woman stepped into the room only seconds later, and she smiled at us. “Hi ladies, I’m Becca. And I’m sorry, I didn’t know there were two of you! Should I go get Ashleigh?” she asked.
I waved my hand. “No, it’s okay. I actually had a manicure not that long ago. So you can work on my sister. I’ll just sit and watch.”
“No problem.” Becca smiled and nodded. “Okay, hon, I’ll just need to remove these old acrylics,” she said, turning her attention to Allegra.
I noticed Allegra suddenly looked nervous, so I squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt,” I said, wondering what she was so freaked out about. She was wearing acrylics, after all, so obviously she’d had her nails done before.
“Um… okay,” she mumbled as the technician began the process of removing her fake nails.
I sat back and read some gossip blog articles on my phone while I waited for her nails to get done. There hadn’t been much posted about me for a while—it seemed everyone was focused on Allegra, hoping she’d finally come out of her shell and make a media appearance.
“Oh, honey, what happened to these nails? It looks painful,” Becca suddenly said.
I glanced over. She’d removed the last of the acrylics, and it was plain to see that Allegra’s left thumbnail and index nail were quite damaged. It looked like the nails had been ripped out a while ago, and only grew halfway back.
Allegra’s face turned slightly pale. “Oh, it’s nothing. I caught my hand in a door a few years ago. They never really recovered.”
“Ouch! I almost wondered if you had the same thing as this other girl I see,” Becca said. “Poor thing has some sort of condition, and she has it bad. Every single one of her nails look like your two broken ones.”
“Oh. Right,” Allegra said, staring down at her lap.
She was starting to look very uncomfortable, and I knew why. Obviously something had happened to her a few years ago in one of her less-nice foster homes—something that wasn’t as simple and innocent as her accidentally shutting her hand in a door.
My stomach lurched at the thought of someone hurting her.
Becca waved her hand and kept gabbing on. “It’s some sort of genetic thing, I think. She got it from her father. It’s awful, because she has all sorts of issues with other parts of her body. Silver lining, though… it makes her totally double-jointed, so she can do all this cool—”
“Excuse me!” I interrupted loudly when I realized Becca wasn’t going to drop the subject. “Could you go and check if you have Tahitian Sunset? I think that color would really suit my sister.”
The nail technician nodded and stood up. “Sure. Be right back.”
I turned to Allegra. “Sorry. I’ve actually had her before. She’s nice, but she has no filter, and she never knows when to shut up.”
Allegra gave me a watery smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem. You looked kinda upset, so I figured something happened that you didn’t want to talk about. And she just kept going on and on and on….”
Allegra looked down at her lap, her hands trembling. “It’s okay. I really did just slam this hand in a door a few years ago. It’s no big deal.”
I could tell she was lying, but I could also tell she wasn’t ready to open up about whatever things had happened to her during her earlier years. That was fine. She needed to take her time—however long she needed to feel ready.
“I know what will make you feel better,” I said in a sly voice. “I saw you eyeing off the stuff in my closet earlier. So let’s go shopping once we’re done here.”
Allegra looked up and finally smiled again. “I guess Dad did just give me a brand new credit card with no limit...” she said slowly.
“So you’re in?”
She nodded. “Yes. Totally.”
After her new fake nails were applied and colored, we fitted ourselves with our wigs again and left for Acacia Drive, our city’s most popular shopping destination. The street was lined with every designer store you could imagine—Prada, Chanel, Dior, Gucci, Balenciaga, Missoni, Guerlain… they were just a few of the big names present.
By the time our shopping expedition was over, Allegra and I both had seven or eight bags on each arm. I hadn’t bought anything for myself—it was her day, so it was all for her.
As we were about to leave a little swimwear boutique that we’d decided to make a quick stop in before heading home, I heard a familiar sound and stopped in my tracks.
I looked out the window and groaned. “Great. The cavalry has arrived,” I said.
Allegra lifted a brow. “What?”
“Paparazzi. A shop assistant must’ve tipped them off that we were shopping here,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s see if there’s a back door.”
My sister shook her head. “No, you were right the other day,” she said with a sigh. “I have to get used to it eventually. And hey, why not finally show myself to the world after spending half the day at a spa? At least I look good.”
I smiled. “Well, your skin is definitely glowing. But are you sure you’re ready to face all the cameras?”
She nodded shakily. “I think so. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, huh? Just have to get it over with.”
“That’s right. You ready?”
She nodded again, and I pulled my wig off. “Your turn,” I said as we stepped toward the boutique’s main door.
As Allegra pulled her own wig off, trailing behind me, several dozen cameras began to flash at us. I stopped, giving the paparazzi a quick wave. Allegra came up next to me, and everyone went wild.
“Allegra! What’s it like to be back?”
“Who took you? Where have you been? Are the police making any arrests?”
“What have you been buying today? Who are you wearing?”
I stepped forward, expecting Allegra to follow me, but when I turned my head over my shoulder to make sure, I noticed she was standing stock-still, smiling as people took her photograph.
“We should go,” I mouthed at her. If we stayed here any longer, the crowd would only get bigger and bigger, and we’d end up trapped for hours.
She saw me and nodded. Then she made her apologies to everyone before joining me and hurrying back to the car. “Wow!” she said. “That was….exhilarating.”
“You’re a natural. You didn’t look scared at all. I even saw you pose a couple of times,” I said with a grin.
“Believe me, I was shaking on the inside,” she said. Then she smiled. “Thanks for today, Pey. I had a lot of fun seeing what it was like to be you.”
“My pleasure. I really enjoyed it too.”
As I pulled out of my spot, I saw a tall, dark-haired man crossing the street a few yards up ahead. It wasn’t Cade, but simply thinking that it might be for a few seconds was a jarring feeling.
The best thing to do for him would be to keep my distance and not let anything happen again… but even as I thought it, I knew that wasn’t going to be possible.
Allegra spoke up again. “What should we do for dinner?”
I barely heard her. I was still thinking about Cade. I could swear up and down all day that it was just a silly little crush, but that wasn’t true, was it? I wanted more. Wanted him to kiss me again. Wanted him to do all sorts of crazy things to my body.
God….
I was in serious trouble.
13 Kaden
My parents weren't giving up easily.
Today, I had seven missed calls from my mom and dad, demanding that I get to the bottom of the drama they’d invented for themselves.
The whole thing was making me nervous. I honestly didn't believe either Francine or Vincent were guilty of any sordid financial dealings, but my parents were hell-bent on putting the blame on them. It wasn't just the connection to Peyton that was making me feel this way—I really didn't think either of her parents were capable of something like that.
I had to get to the bottom of it. Not for my parents’ sake, but for the Cadwells, if they were truly innocent. I had to understand what really happened with the missing money, because no one else seemed to have noticed a thing.
The simplest explanation was that there was actually no money missing, and the file I found was simply riddled with incorrect data as the result of human or computer error, and that was why I found it near a shredder… but that didn’t satisfy me.
Something else was going on at the Mirabella. I could feel it in my bones.
There was one person that could’ve helped me figure shit out, but I'd burnt my bridges with him. I wasn't sure whether the time would ever be right to reconnect with Tristan, but to be fair, I had considered during my morning swim the other day that I just needed to suck it up and get it over with.
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