“You young people can say all you want, but beauty still sells and it still opens doors.”
I sigh. “I’m going to get going. Maybe we can go to lunch before Fashion Week. Just the two of us.”
“Ooh, lots to do before then. Why don’t you just stop by the house for dinner?”
The thought of sitting across from Archie makes my stomach turn. “We’ll see. If not, I’m sure we’ll see each other in New York.”
“You’ve made all the arrangements for you and Koko?”
“Yes, it’s all handled.” I won’t tell her there’s no way I wouldn’t have gone to New York with Koko if I didn’t work it out so I was covering stories there.
“Okay, honey.” She kisses my cheek and gives me a hug. “I’ll let you know what I can do for your fundraiser,” she says as she walks me to the door.
“Thanks. Talk soon.”
She lingers in the doorway and watches me go, as if I’m off to catch the school bus. It’s times like this I feel close to my mom, like she still does care about me, even though we see everything so differently. Even if I let her down and left, not only modeling but her agency.
All the good feels come to a screeching halt when I see Archie coming down the hall, his arm draped around Justice, the traitor.
“Look who I found in the parking lot, Gretch,” Archie sings.
Justice catches my gaze and gives me an apologetic look. I’m guessing it’s because he’s late and not because he’s fraternizing with the enemy.
Archie’s your typical looking middle aged guy, thinning hair on top and a salt and pepper five o’clock shadow. But the way he acts, he thinks he’s much better looking than he is. Justice has a good four inches on him at about six one.
My mom rushes the two of them, takes Justice’s face in her hands, and kisses his cheek like he’s her long-lost nephew or something.
“Geez, mom.”
Justice mouths it’s okay over her shoulder when she hugs him. I appreciate his patience, and he’s probably used to the attention, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to gag at how they’re fawning all over him. I mean, what’s so great about Justice Bridges? Except for the gorgeously thick mane of golden hair that hangs loose over his collar and forehead, the broad shoulders, deep blue eyes and kissable lips, that is. Yeah, he can be charming and sweet, but there’s no way that’s genuine. And seeing him walk in all buddy buddy with my stepdad takes all the shine off his ass.
“Sorry I’m late…” He gives me a tight smile, earning some points for trying.
“It’s my fault,” Archie says. “I saw him here and thought he was coming back.”
“You know I still get calls for you, hon,” Mom says.
“Geez, why don’t you just adopt him?” Did I say that out loud? When they all turn to me with open mouths, I realize I did.
“I’m just here about the fundraiser for the community center. Did Kaylee tell you?” he says to my mother.
“She did, and I think it’s just wonderful.”
I haven’t heard that lilt in her voice in a long time. I roll my eyes and Justice catches me and laughs.
“I saw Curtis yesterday,” Archie says. “I wonder why he didn’t mention it.”
Probably because he doesn’t want you butting in. Maybe Curtis needs to have a talk with Justice.
Justice shakes his head. “Not sure. But he’s been crazy busy lately.”
Mom and Archie exchange concerned looks, probably worried Curtis is becoming too famous and will consider moving from the agency.
“Well, we need to get going,” I say, giving Justice the eye so he knows to agree.
“Oh, yeah, but it was great seeing you both.”
“Don’t be a stranger, now, sugar,” my mother says. “You’ll have to come for dinner one night.”
“Sounds good, Gretchen. Thank you.”
Justice and I head out to the parking lot, and he follows me to my car.
“Sorry again I didn’t make in time to talk to your mom with you. Sounds like it went well, though.”
I shrug. “I guess.”
Justice smiles as if everything is perfect. “See? You worried for nothing.”
My lip snarls as I shoot him a glare before I can stop myself. “I wasn’t worried about anything. I just didn’t want to be here.”
Justice tilts his head and steps closer. “Hey, are you mad at me? This attitude feels…different. I tried to be there, but Archie…” He straightens and doesn’t finish, and I wonder if it’s because he saw a shift in me I couldn’t hide from him. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I look past him, over his shoulder to the office. “Listen, thanks for trying. Text me and we’ll talk.” I dig in my purse for my keys and his hand hooks onto my wrist.
“Come on, Kaylee. Talk to me. I want to help.”
I stare down at his hand and he removes it. When I look up to his eyes, guilt fills me. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just… Archie and I don’t…see eye to eye. I hate that my mom married him.”
“So you’re mad at me for what? Talking to him? Honestly, Kay, I was just being polite…for you.”
I sense some annoyance in his tone, and I don’t blame him. I’ve given him a hard time for lots of reasons, most of them unfairly, and when I saw those two all smiles, I just reacted. “Can we just forget about this and start over?”
Slowly, a crooked grin comes to his mouth. “Start over? Like, how far back?”
I match his expression because, apparently, I have no control over my smile when he’s around lately. I have to give it to him. He never misses a beat. I might regret this but I put out my hand. “All the way.”
“Really?”
I nod.
He shakes it and the feel of his hand in mine is both electric and familiar; it just feels right. “So no more Kaylee hating Justice?”
I hesitate and he catches me off guard by pulling me in so we are only a few inches apart, his gorgeous blues locked in on me. I let my gaze pan down. God, why is his mouth so inviting? He parts his lips and I feel my breathing deepen. “Well, Kay?”
“Fine, no more hating.”
He holds me a beat longer and then drops my hand, stepping back. “Awesome. I can’t say I won’t miss some of that spark, but I have a feeling you’ll show it to me in other ways.”
I watch him walk away, the view from behind almost as good as the front. He throws a glance over his shoulder like he knew I was looking, smirks, and then holy hell my stomach. What was he saying about a spark?
Chapter 6
Justice
Kaylee walks into the foyer of the hotel, casual, in a pair of snug jeans and a red shirt that makes her eyes pop. Leaning against a pillar with my arms folded, I simply watch her as she scans the area, looking for me. I’m sure any second she’ll pull out her phone and text me she’s arrived, but I’m enjoying the view. One that doesn’t involve her angry eyes or sarcastic words. Though, if she was sincere about starting over, I guess I’ve seen the last of that side.
Kaylee wanders my way but still doesn’t notice me. When she slips her phone from her pocket and begins typing, I take advantage of her looking down. I step into her path and head right toward her, almost colliding with her when she looks up, startled. I grab her by the elbows and play it up. “Whoa, someone needs to watch where they’re going.”
Her mouth falls open and she looks like she might actually apologize, but of course, my dumb ass takes it too far. “Cell phones.” I huff. “Some people can’t just live in the real world.” I laugh and shake my head.
Kaylee slaps my arm and backs away. “You’re a jackass. Where did you come from?”
I lift one shoulder and let it fall, unable to say or do anything with her closeness. But if we’re going to work together on this project, we need to get comfortable with each other in a different way. Not the way that’s flashing through my mind right now. “Come on,” I say, taking her hand and leading her toward the back of the hotel.
>
“What are you doing?” she asks, tugging her hand lightly as if she has to make it official she’s not onboard with touching me. “Where are we going?”
It’s a struggle to stay focused with her hand in mine. It’s the first time I’ve felt her touch when it wasn’t a punishment—this feels like a reward. “You’ll see.”
We make our way to the room and when I stop in front of the door, Kaylee pulls her hand from mine, with more force this time. I tilt my head and squint at her.
“What? We’re not on our freaking honeymoon. What are you doing, anyway?”
Honestly, I don’t know why I grabbed her hand in the first place. It just felt natural. “I want you to see this.” Just as Janet, the hotel manager, promised, the door is unlocked. I push it open and gesture for her to step in first. Yes, I’m being a gentleman and no, staring at her ass wasn’t my plan. These things happen.
“So… What are we even doing here?” she throws over her shoulder. “Hey, were you just looking at my ass?”
“What? No…you wish.” I step up next to her. “I know it’s pretty bare right now, but can you picture it?”
“Picture what?”
“The fashion show. I think this should be the venue.”
She takes a few steps into the room, pauses, then turns back to me. “Eh.”
“Don’t take it for what it is this way. Have some vision. Don’t you think the room would work?”
“Yeah…but this location, the area…”
I smile because I knew that was what she was going to say. “Careful, Kay, you don’t want people to think you’re a snob.” Not that I think that. No matter what she shows to me, Kaylee would never look down on someone.
“Hey, I’m just thinking of the kids, the end game and making it as successful as we can. Maybe you’re not thinking big enough.”
I walk toward her and put my hand out. “All will be revealed soon…”
She stares at my hand and then places hers on her hip. “What’s with the hand-holding?”
“I don’t know. I mean, if I’m going to volunteer my time for the greater good, shouldn’t I get some reward.”
She shakes her head in a slow disapproving way. Then, a moment later, she’s lifting her hand and placing it in mine, shooting fire through my chest. “I don’t know why I’m indulging you…”
We hold hands out the door, through the lobby, and toward the front door. I swing our arms slightly and look at her when she giggles. Yes, my evil plan to get Kaylee to not hate me is working. Turner would say I’m simply wanting what I can’t have, my ego needing that repair from her rejection. I can’t believe that’s true. Not because of me, but because of Kaylee. She’s special, even though she doesn’t seem to know it herself.
“We’re leaving?” she says when I open the door for her.
“Not yet.” I follow her out and take her by the shoulders from behind, turning her a little to the left. “See anything?”
“I’m losing patience, Bridges. It’s cold out here.”
The January bite in Los Angeles can be chilly, but we’re both natives of SoCal and used to it. Still, I take the opportunity and rub her arms. “Keep looking.”
I feel her shoulders raise as she takes in a breath. “Hen’s House.” She looks at me over her shoulder. “The sign is still there.” The smile she shows me is incredible and it takes everything in me not to lean in and brush my lips against hers.
“Yep,” I say, unable to keep the pride from my voice.
“Come on.” She takes my hand this time and races down the sidewalk, then jaywalks diagonally toward the building.
My heart is thrumming in my chest at this point, and I wouldn’t care if she Froggered me across speeding cars and crocodiles.
We stop in front of the old building and peek inside through the front window. “Sort of sad, isn’t it?” she says.
“Yeah. But look at it this way. If it didn’t closed down we wouldn’t be working together…” When she shoots me a look, I add, “…to bring this bigger, better place for the kids.” I give her a crooked grin.
“Nice catch, Bridges.”
I sigh and turn to her. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“I don’t know. That depends what it is.” Her expectant expression is one I haven’t seen her give me. I love discovering something new about her.
“As fun as it is to hear you call me by my last name…you know instead of dumbass or loser…you think you could use my first name?”
She blinks slowly, her face falling into something I don’t like seeing. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad. “Never mind. I think I’m partial to dumbass.” I’d do anything to make her smile and it worked.
“Man, you’re trying hard. You know, some would think it’s pathetic…Justice.”
Dramatically, I throw my arms out to the side. “Oh, now, all my dreams have come true. Thank you, Kay.”
She laughs again. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. And speaking of names, who said you could call me Kay?”
I fold my arms and call her bluff. “Hey, if you really hate it that much I’ll stop…Kaylee.”
She averts her gaze, those stunning hazel eyes pointed across the street, seeming to focus on the hotel. “So, you’re thinking we have it at the Meridian Hotel so people can see the old center? Not bad, Bri—Justice.”
“Exactly. And we can put that in the invitation.” Her change of subject tells me all I want to know. I don’t even care that she avoided my question. Pushing my luck, I hold my hand out one more time. “We still have some planning to do, so how about we grab lunch?”
“Sounds good. I’m starving.” Kaylee slaps my palm with hers like a “low-five” and I chuckle.
“Fair enough.”
We decide to walk back to the hotel and eat in the café. That way we can talk to the manager and ask her more questions.
I pull out Kaylee’s chair, hand her a menu, offer her to order first, everything to win her affection, like a puppy with a new owner. Maybe I shouldn’t have to, but I can’t seem to stop it.
“So, you really think people will go, even if the venue is not some posh place in a nicer location?”
“Definitely. It’s more about who’s there, the designers, the models, and less about where it is.”
“I suppose you’re right, but they better get some bigger names than two has-beens like us.”
“Yeah,” I say, raising a glass of water to my lips. Then I freeze. “Wait—what?”
Kaylee narrows her eyes. “What, you think people give a crap about me and you? Curtis for sure but—”
“What are you talking about? I’m not doing the show. We’re in charge of venue.” I raise my hand and gesture into the room.
She leans back in her chair, a smirk on her lips. “You really weren’t listening, were you? What were you daydreaming about at Daven’s table?”
I lift a brow and lower my chin. “You really want to know, Kay?”
She holds up her fork and points it at me. “On second thought, please don’t tell me.”
“So, you’re saying Daven Sparrow asked me to model…model, in the show, and I said yes?”
She’s fighting back a smile as she sips her tea, then nods, and I can’t even enjoy this with her. I’m blown away. “Geez. I hate runway, not to mention, I haven’t modeled in almost two years.”
“You think I want to do it? You think I liked having to ask my mommy for help from The Sumner Group? We all have to make sacrifices.”
“So what. They’re your parents. Your mom said she’d help.”
Kaylee practically cringes before stabbing angrily at her salad. “They are not my parents. Archie’s my stepdad.” The last word comes out like she’s referring to Satan.
I don’t want to pry, push her away, but there’s something there that has my heart pumping harder. “You don’t like Archie?” Honestly, the guy gives me bad vibes, but I’m nice to him out of respect for Gretchen…and Kaylee, for that matter. I’d heard her own
father died when she was a teenager. If we were closer, I’d bring up how we have that in common.
She looks away. “He was my dad’s best friend… And he just sort of stepped right into that empty spot. I don’t want to talk about him. And I don’t want to be in the show either, but we have to suck it up for the center.”
I try to read her thoughts, but all I see is a beautiful woman who wants to hide herself and her emotions. “Tell me why you quit modeling.” I take a big bite of my chicken sandwich as I await the verdict for being nosy.
She’s taken aback, narrowing her eyes at me. “Where did that come from? And who cares, anyway?”
“I do.”
She sighs. “I never liked being judged by my looks. Plus, I was never pretty enough to compete, anyway.”
I can’t believe what I just heard. The air stutters in my chest because I know she’s dead serious. I start to speak, then stop myself and chuckle, wipe my mouth with my napkin.
“What?”
“Since you already don’t like me, I guess I have nothing to lose…”
She raises her brows over stunning hazel eyes.
“You have no clue what you’re talking about.”
She blinks twice and then darts her eyes to the side. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s not always about beauty. Many models just have a look, something unique that makes them beautiful, or they’re super confident and mysteriously alluring. I don’t have that either. Never did.”
“Holy crap, what’s wrong with you that—” I nod slowly. “Oh…”
“What?”
“You’ve been around models your whole life, yet you don’t think you belong.”
“Can we be done talking about this now, Dr. Phil?”
“I don’t know. I mean, you obviously don’t believe anything I say, but damn, Kay, you’re all kinds of gorgeous. How can you not see that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t feel successful as a model. I didn’t like it, my mom was always on my case about something, and I never felt good enough. It wasn’t my passion anyway. Writing is.”
Beautiful Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 3) Page 5