Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  “With me or you?” Thomas said with a smirk.

  Sasha gave him an amused look. “It’s not going to be me, is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Thomas replied. “Your Amore shoot will have come out by now. You’re going to be an in-demand model now.”

  Sasha laughed and snuggled back under the covers. “Hardly.”

  Just then her phone pinged, indicating an incoming message.

  “Told you,” Thomas chuckled.

  “Now what?” Sasha grumbled, grabbing her phone.

  The message was from Chris. It was just a single line of text. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Sasha frowned. What was that supposed to mean? The only explanation she could think of was that Chris was mad at her for not telling him about the photo shoot. He had accused her of being shallow before he left, and in a way, a photo shoot was about as vain as she could get. But that was hardly the sort of thing an ex demanded to know.

  Before Sasha had a chance to answer, the house phone started ringing. Thomas pulled a pillow over his head. The phone stopped, clearly having been answered by Pippa elsewhere in the house. But it was immediately replaced by Thomas’s cell phone buzzing.

  “Ugh,” Sasha moaned. “Why can’t everyone leave us alone?”

  Thomas sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I think we should take it as a sign. The world wants us to get up.”

  They dressed and headed downstairs to make breakfast. Pippa was sat at the kitchen island, surrounded by papers and diaries and halfway through a black coffee.

  “There’s more in the pot,” she said, swivelling on her stool to face them. There was a pen stuck behind her ear.

  Sasha poured a mug for her and one for Thomas, then he got to work poaching them some eggs for breakfast.

  “Busy morning?” Thomas said.

  Pippa smiled brightly. “Indeed it has been. I’ve got some amazing news.”

  Sasha looked up from the steaming mug in her hands. Thomas cocked his head over his shoulder. “What?” he said.

  Pippa splayed her hands on the work surface in front of her. “I just got off the phone with Peter Yorkson from the London Weekly paper. Thomas, you’ve been nominated for a British Film Institute Award!”

  Thomas raised his eyebrows and went back to his poaching. Sasha couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement, even if Thomas himself seemed less than impressed.

  “Is this why the phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning?” was all he had to say.

  Pippa gave Sasha a look and rolled her eyes.

  “So,” Pippa continued, “I’ve organised a whole schedule for your England visit. Obviously an interview with London Weekly…”

  “Must I?” Thomas interrupted. “I loathe that paper. It’s for pretentious hipsters.”

  “Darling,” Pippa said. “Pretentious hipsters are the reason you have a private jet and an apartment in every major city. They’re the ones who watch your films.”

  “Fine,” Thomas said. He scooped the poached eggs out and placed them on muffins with a garnish on top. It looked like something you’d get in a Michelin star restaurant. He plopped a plate in front of Sasha and took a stool at the breakfast bar. “What else is on your agenda?”

  Pippa began thumbing through her diary. “Interview with Peter. BBC lunchtime chat show appearance....”

  “God please not the Brunch Ladies.”

  Pippa coughed. “Yes,” she said.

  Thomas sighed. “You’re essentially sending me to England to be tortured.”

  Sasha laughed.

  “Then there’s the ceremony,” Pippa continued. “We’ll need Sasha to attend that of course.”

  Sasha almost spat out her coffee. “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Pippa replied. “Everyone’s itching to see the woman who finally stole Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor in the flesh. Which reminds me, I have an agenda for you too. It’s mainly hair and makeup, clothes fittings and strategic appearances at iconic London locations to show them off.”

  “Sounds thrilling,” Thomas said, wryly.

  But Sasha was excited. She’d never been to England. It seemed so exotic.

  “Dare I ask what I’m nominated for?” Thomas said.

  Pippa squinched her nose and paused. She took a breath in and out again. “Sexiest man alive.”

  Thomas clenched his jaw. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

  Sasha placed a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is the only bloody thing I’m ever nominated for is something to do with my looks rather than my talent. It’s insulting. Then I have to go and pretend I’m gracious. The whole thing sickens me.”

  Pippa made a face behind his back. She’d clearly known he was going to have this kind of reaction.

  Sasha circled her arms around Thomas’s neck. “Just think of it as a holiday.”

  Thomas shook his head. “Going back to England is never a holiday for me. It’s a chore. I suppose you have a visit to my aunt and cousins in the countryside on that agenda of yours,” he said, nodding to Pippa’s notes.

  “Just a pub lunch,” she said sheepishly.

  “See,” Thomas barked, turning back to Sasha. “I’ll have to introduce them to you.”

  He said it like it was a bad thing.

  Sasha looked down at her half eaten breakfast. She’d suddenly lost her appetite.

  Thomas must have noted her deflation. He stood and went up behind her. He rubbed her arms. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that the last time I saw my family was before the sex tape and Crystal situation. It will be embarrassing. For both of us.” He kissed her softly on the crown of her head, then rested his chin against it as he wrapped her up in his arms. “I mean, Aunty Mabel had seen your tits. That’s what she’ll be thinking about as she serves up tea and cucumber sandwiches.”

  Sasha couldn’t help but laugh.

  With his arms still wrapped around Sasha, Thomas spoke over her head to Pippa. “Can we just not do this? Not now. My first public appearance since the sex tape scandal shouldn’t be for a pathetic sexy man award. It’s crass.”

  Pippa gave him a stern look. “It’s how you stay relevant and on film producers’ minds. Sorry, Thomas, but you know this is part of the process.”

  “Fine,” Thomas replied, unwinding himself from Sasha.

  But when she looked up at him, he looked anything but fine.

  Across the breakfast bar, Pippa grabbed Sasha’s arm. “Oh Sasha, darling, this will be your first red carpet! Amore are emailing over their best designs. Do you prefer diamond or gold for the jewellery?”

  Sasha shrugged. She’d never been one to wear much in the way of jewellery. “Diamond, I guess.”

  “Fabulous. Fabulous. Now, I’ll speak to the driver and arrange the plane. You go pack. Run along! Quick, quick!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Up in his room, Thomas began packing a suitcase. He seemed furious.

  Sasha perched on his bed, looking up at him. She wasn’t quite ready to leave the place where she’d fallen in love with him, but this was part of being with Thomas Lloyd. Never quite getting to be the master of her own destiny. Being pulled around in different directions. But she’d made her choice. It was worth the sacrifice.

  She noticed she’d had several more missed calls and texts since they went down for breakfast but she wanted to make sure Thomas was okay first before responding to any of them, so she turned her phone off and stashed it in her pocket.

  “I wish we didn’t have to leave,” Thomas said, throwing some socks into the suitcase.

  “I know,” Sasha replied. “Me neither.”

  “It feels like stepping back into the lion’s den.”

  “You could always quit,” Sasha said with a smirk.

  “Don’t tempt me.” Thomas stopped what he was doing and turned to Sasha. He held her face in his hands and gave her an adoring gaze. “One day I will. Once Crystal is clean. But right now, he
r treatment is too expensive to quit. But I’ll give it all up for you.”

  Sasha smiled. “I’m patient. I can wait.”

  ***

  The flight to London took even longer than the one from Chicago had. Thomas and Sasha used the opportunity to have a marathon sex session in his bedroom. Something about it felt like the last time they would ever be at peace, and that made it all the more fantastic.

  When they landed, Pippa filled them in on the specifics of the arrangements she’d been making.

  “Sasha, we’re dropping you off to the Amore offices in Shoreditch. They have some amazing dresses for you to try on. Thomas, you’ll be coming with me to the hotel in Kensington for the London Weekly interview. Then we’ll reconvene for the award ceremony. Okay?”

  Thankfully, the paps hadn’t yet got wind of their arrival and they were able to pass through the airport and into the back of the car with little fanfare other than a few giggling girls asking for selfies.

  Even so, Sasha still felt a little nauseous about being back in the public eye. The feeling was even more pronounced when Pippa used the car journey to coach her on how to deal with the media’s intrusive questions.

  “Just politely decline to answer,” she said. “Tell them you’re here to support Thomas, and nothing more.”

  Suddenly the reality of everything seemed to hit her. Before she’d been thrust into the spotlight against her will. Now she was actively inviting it into her life. The Amore photo shoot hadn’t just been a one off experience, it had been the tip of the iceberg.

  The car dropped Sasha off in a graffitied backstreet buzzing with people. It was a world away from the tranquil holiday home and sunny beaches she’d become accustomed too. And thanks to the jet lag and multiple orgasms Thomas had given her on the plane, she was more than a little disorientated.

  She watched the car as it rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. There was a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach, one that told her that maybe things weren’t going to go as smoothly as she’d hoped.

  She entered the trendy warehouse style building and found herself in the company, once again, of Tina. Then she was stripping in front of them, being preened and prodded, dressed and undressed. Thanks to Tina’s complete lack of social skills, Sasha felt as though her body were a shop mannequin.

  She tried on several outfits before Tina settled on a daring cobalt blue lacy dress with a sheer skirt over matching blue knickers and impossibly high stilettos. Sasha thought how it was the same color as the dress she’d worn to her first interview with Thomas.

  “You have to exude female sexual prowess,” Tina said. “You cannot behave or dress like a wallflower. No one must think for a second that you are ashamed of the sex you shared with Thomas. In fact, you must be the opposite. Be proud. Every woman in the world is jealous of you. Show them why they should be.”

  Sasha wasn’t ashamed of that night she and Thomas had been filmed in his kitchen, she just wished it hadn’t been broadcast to the whole world. And she wished she could be doing it with him right now, rather than standing here being draped in fabric.

  When it came to the jewellery, Sasha’s breath was taken away. It was thousands of dollars worth. Quite the responsibility.

  She tried on necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings. When Tina slipped one on her ring finger, Sasha frowned.

  “That’s not a good idea,” she said. “It will start rumors.”

  “We had strict instructions from Pippa. One ring on each finger.”

  Sasha knew better than to argue.

  Pippa had arranged for the hair and makeup people to work in the Amore offices. Several hours later, she was peened and coiffed to perfection and ready to be draped on Thomas’s arm as the ultimate accessory.

  As the car picked her up to be driven to the back alley to meet Thomas, Sasha wondered whether Thomas had really meant it when he said he would quit for her. She’d only had a taste of this world but she didn’t like it. As much as she enjoyed being made to look fabulous, she couldn’t help but feel hollow, as though her mind was going to waste. She needed to get back into work. She would go crazy if this was the backdrop to her and Thomas’s relationship.

  As Sasha travelled along in the back of the car, she remembered all the missed calls and messages she hadn’t got round to replying to. She turned on her cell phone. There were hundreds of missed calls and texts from her friends and family. As she listened to the voicemails and read the messages, a terrible picture began to unfold...

  The Amore photo shoot wasn’t just to show off the clothes Sasha was modelling. In fact, only one photo from the shoot appeared at all. The one of her and Thomas kissing in the pool.

  And there, photoshopped on her hand, the exact same ring she was now wearing.

  She and Thomas had apparently gotten engaged...

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thomas’s words from before echoed in Sasha’s mind. ‘In this world, you can trust no one. Do you understand me? No one.’

  She was fuming as she got into the shared car.

  “Sasha, you look stunning,” Thomas said.

  But she turned her cold gaze on him. “You absolute bastard.”

  The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror.

  Thomas frowned. “What am I supposed to have done?”

  “You went behind my back. You planned this whole thing with Pippa, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about.”

  “The engagement!”

  Thomas looked sheepish. “Ah. That.”

  “Yes. That. How could you do this to me?” The chilled Sasha she’d become on the island seemed to have disappeared completely.

  “It was arranged ages ago. When I was angry. I didn’t… I didn’t think about how you would feel. You’d agreed to do what we asked and Pippa suggested an engagement to distract everyone’s attention and give them something else to write about. I just went along with it.”

  “Did you even think about how this would make me look. With my mother? My friends? They think I’m a selfish bitch because of you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How long was this planned for?”

  “We arranged it while you were napping.”

  “On the plane? Within the first hour of me agreeing to this?”

  Thomas looked deeply ashamed. “Sasha, I’m sorry. But it’s too late now. The article’s out there.”

  “Why didn’t you pull it? When we started getting close, why didn’t you put a stop to it?”

  “It was too late by then.”

  “No it wasn’t. I pulled an article about you the day before going to print.”

  Thomas swiped his hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry okay? I messed up. What do you want me to do? Grovel.”

  Sasha narrowed her eyes. “I don’t have to go through with this,” she said, viciously. “I don’t have to go out there with you.”

  “No. You don’t,” Thomas replied. “But if you don’t then there’s no turning back for either of us. If you come, we still have a future. If you don’t...”

  “If I don’t we’re over? Because it would make you look bad? Ruin your public image? I thought I matter more to you than that.”

  “That’s not what this is about,” Thomas said, sounding exasperated.

  “Yes it is!” Sasha cried. “You’re expecting me to keep playing the happy couple after this?”

  “I don’t want you to play it, Sasha. I want you to be it. Being your husband, I don’t think anything would make me happier.”

  Sasha couldn’t get her head round what was happening. She shook her head, completely at a loss. “You mean you actually want to marry me? You actually want to be engaged?”

  “Yes.”

  Sasha was disgusted. “You didn’t even give me the ring! Pippa chose it!”

  Thomas looked deflated. “Okay. If you want to go, then go.”

  They’d arrived at the red carpet. Sasha looked out at the rows of awaiting paparazzi,
ready to pounce on Thomas. It was his first public outing since the scandal.

  He needed her. He needed her support.

  Sasha took a deep breath.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said. “This one time. But there’ll be no pub lunch with Aunty Mabel. No country excursions, cucumber sandwiches or meeting cousins. I’ll walk your stupid red carpet with you, but then I’m going back home to put my life back together. This whole thing was a mistake.”

  Thomas’s expression was pained. “All of it?”

  “All of it,” Sasha replied bluntly. “I’ll be on the first flight home tomorrow morning. Do you understand?”

  Thomas worried his hands in his lap. Finally, with a long exhalation, he said, “If that’s what you want.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The cameras flashed incessantly as they emerged from the car. Sasha played her role perfectly, though her hand in Thomas’s was limp and unresponsive. She pouted for the camera, gave him adoring gazes and laughed at his jokes. She didn’t squirm when he guided her along the red carpet with his hand on the small of his back. She shook hands with other celebrities and directors and made polite conversation with everyone Thomas introduced her to.

  Whenever anyone asked a question about the engagement or asked to see the ring, Sasha politely declined, reminding the paps that she was there to support Thomas. But there was one question that threw her for six and made her facade slip.

  “How do you feel about Crystal Carpenter checking out of rehab?”

  Thomas squeezed Sasha’s hand, a warning for her not to react. But how could she not? After everything she had gone through, the idea that Crystal was back out and about was really the icing on the cake.

  “We’re not here to comment on anything personal,” Thomas said diplomatically.

  Inside the venue, Thomas disappeared and returned with a dashingly handsome gray haired man. “Peter, I’d like you to meet my partner, Sasha Jones. She’s hoping to become a journalist. Sasha, this is Peter Yorkson from the London Weekly.”

  Peter shook her hand. “Sasha, I’d love to see some of your work sometime.” He handed her a business card. “Give me a call.”