Duplicity (Jilted Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  “We were struggling to save to move, or that’s what I thought until I came home from school to find her drunk and passed out on the tiny sofa in our room.”

  The story has been pouring out of me, and Kinley’s soft exclamation of “Oh, no.” jerks me back to reality.

  “Yeah, things started going back downhill again. She lost her job, and I was so mad, I wouldn’t even speak to her. Weeks went by, and I never said a word. I went to school, went to work, and went to the pawn shop to play the guitar. My sixteenth birthday was approaching, and I didn’t hide the fact I was going to file for emancipation. I was taking care of myself, and she was only holding me back.”

  A knot forms in my throat, and I stop for a minute to take a drink. I’ve never told this story to anyone. It was so long ago, I thought I was over it, but apparently, it can still hurt me.

  Kinley reaches over the table and takes my hand. “You don’t have to tell me anymore, Holt. It’s okay.”

  “I think…I need to tell someone,” I murmur.

  She squeezes my hand and nods, waiting for me to continue. “A few days before I turned sixteen, I came home to find the guitar I wanted more than anything in the world lying on my bed. At first, Kinley, I swear, I thought she stole it. But a receipt lay on the table next to a birthday card.”

  My heart races at the next part I have to tell. It still haunts my nightmares. “I was so happy. And definitely ready to forgive her. My naïve mind thought we could try again, she could go back to rehab, whatever, but she had other plans. Inside the card was more than happy birthday wishes. She left me a letter. It was short, but it included information that shocked the hell out of me. She always claimed she didn’t know who my father was, but in the letter was his name and address. It was a goodbye letter. She said she was done. She wasn’t coming back, and I should go to my father’s house.”

  “She left you?” Kinley says, an edge of anger to her voice.

  “She killed herself. Jumped off an interstate bridge into the path of a car.”

  A tear spills down her cheek as she says, “Jesus, Holt, I’m sorry.”

  “I waited three days in the motel before I realized she really wasn’t coming back and did as she asked. My father is a good guy, he just never knew about me, and I found out I had a brother. Dad filed a missing person report and that’s how we found out about the Jane Doe in the local morgue.”

  My voice cracks, and I rub my palms over my face. “I’m getting off the subject. What I was trying to say is that Samilla is the last thing my mother gave me. Her last thought was to give me something that would make me happy before she died. So, yeah, it’s irreplaceable. And I panicked when it was taken and lashed out at you when you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

  Kinley squeezes my hand again. “It’s okay, really. I understand, and I forgive you.”

  I have that strange disconnected feeling you sometimes get when you’ve been reading or playing a video game, so immersed in another world that the one around you temporarily seems foreign. The bar has filled up a bit while I was talking.

  “Shit. I really didn’t mean to tell you all that. I just wanted you to know why Samilla is important, and not something money can replace.”

  “I’m glad you told me,” she says. “Was Samilla your mother’s name?”

  “No.” I grin at her. “It was the name of the pawn shop where she got it, where I went to play every day.”

  She smiles at me, a real one this time, that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. “From playing in a pawn shop for a few people to stadiums in front of thousands. Your mother would be very proud of you.”

  She’s tearing my heart out and she doesn’t realize it. This is wrong. So, so wrong.

  Clark interrupts us, and the look on his face makes it clear he isn’t thrilled she’s with me. Fair enough, I wouldn’t like me either if I were in his place. “There’s some kind of mix up of reservations, Kinley, and Tessa needs help.”

  “I’m on my way,” she tells him, and he nods, walking away.

  I give her a smile when she turns to me. “Go do your thing. We’re good, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.” She gets to her feet and hesitates for a moment, like there’s something else she needs to say. Finally, she adds, “Good night, Holt.”

  “Good night, Kinley.”

  As soon as she leaves, I head back to my room. I don’t know where my head is at right now. I only planned to tell her the guitar was a present from my mother, not my damned life story. What is wrong with me?

  Chapter Seven

  Kinley

  “It’s a first date!” Anavrin exclaims. “You should wear a dress.”

  “We’re going to play miniature golf, not going dancing,” I argue, perusing my closet. My first date with Campbell is tonight, and I’m freaking out a little.

  “Then go with a sundress. Ooh, this red and white one is cute!” She pulls a sundress from my closet, then a pair of strappy sandals. “And these match perfectly!”

  “I think you’re more excited about this than I am,” I laugh, accepting the clothes and changing into them.

  She drops onto the edge of my bed and watches me straighten my hair. “Don’t ruin my chance to live vicariously through you. I’ve sworn off men. You know this.”

  After she caught her last boyfriend screwing her step-sister, I can’t say I blame her. “Uh-huh, so you’re not here hoping for a chance to meet Marcus Singleton.”

  “Ah.” Her mouth falls open as she feigns offense. “I’m here to help my bestie prepare for her first date in over six months.” She falls onto the bed, rolls on her side, and grins at me. “If I just happen to run into a dark-haired rock god who falls deeply in love with me and takes me away from this place, it’ll be a total coincidence.”

  I bend over and slip my sandals on. “Good luck with that.”

  “Is he picking you up? Because the paparazzi are still outside the gate.”

  “No, I said I’d meet him there.”

  A frown appears on her face. “Have you been out since the whole Zya Day thing? And those pictures of you and Marcus on the beach?”

  Standing in front of the mirror, I give myself a last once over. This dress really is pretty. I should wear it more often. “No, but the paparazzi won’t know my car, and my windows are tinted. It’ll be fine.” I glance at the clock. “I’d better get moving.”

  Anavrin walks with me down to the lobby and out to the employee parking lot. Her head is on a swivel the entire time. “He doesn’t come out much during the day,” I tell her, laughing at her pouty face. Part of me doesn’t want them to meet because Anavrin is a classic beauty. Thin, blonde, blue eyed with big boobs. It’s stupid since I have no claim on him and I’m on my way to a date, but after that kiss, I don’t like the idea of him and my best friend.

  “Be careful, girl. Text me if you need a way out and I’ll fake a friend emergency!” she calls, getting into her car.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes,” I promise.

  It’s early evening and you’d think these people would have more to do with their lives than crowd around Foxhaven’s gates day in and day out hoping for a shot of a celebrity, but no. It takes a few minutes for me to follow Anavrin’s car through the narrow driveway with people screaming and trying to see who is inside. Finally, we reach the end of the drive and she gives a wave, turning in the opposite direction.

  At least no one followed me, not that I really expected them to.

  Foxhaven is situated between two small towns, one more populated than the other. It doesn’t take me long to get to Sanlawn, the larger of the two, and pull into the lot of the Putt-a-Rama. Campbell steps out of his truck when he sees me exit my car and strides over to me with a wide smile.

  “Hi, I’m glad you could make it.”

  He’s cute in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. “Thanks for asking me. I haven’t been here in years.”

  The date is going well. We get to know ea
ch other a little, chatting and laughing over the fact that we both really suck at mini golf. We end up letting more than one group play through, so we don’t hold up the crowd of kids and teenagers behind us.

  Campbell is really nice, and I want to like him, but I can already tell there’s nothing there. No connection. Maybe because some lonely rock star won’t get out of my head. The story Holt told me last night made my heart break for him and shoved away some of the preconceived notions I had when I met him.

  All those stories of trashing hotel rooms, fighting, and fucking everything with a pulse had my guard up from the beginning, but now, I think maybe that was unfair. Look at all the stuff those same sources have written about me.

  It still shouldn’t matter because we could never be anything. I know that. He’s a rock star who travels more than he’s home, and my home is here. In a few months, he’ll be gone.

  “What’s going on over there?” Campbell asks, and I realize I’ve been lost in my thoughts again. The guy probably thinks I’m crazy.

  “Sorry, what?”

  He gestures to the chain link fence surrounding the course, and a curse falls from my lips. A small group has gathered, and they aren’t kids or people here for a good time. They’re taking pictures.

  “Is this because of that video where you kicked those reality stars out?”

  “Probably,” I sigh. It occurs to me that this may bring some crap down on him as well and he doesn’t deserve it. “We should go. I’m sorry.”

  He smiles at me. “Don’t apologize. I knew I was dating a celebrity.”

  Laughing, I get to my feet and grab my purse. “God help me if I’m ever a celebrity. I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for having one at Foxhaven.”

  He takes my hand as we head to the exit. “I hope we can do this again when things calm down for you.”

  “Me too. I had a really nice time with you.”

  The beaming smile on his face falters when we spot the crowd outside the doors. We step outside, and he wraps an arm around me as people get right in our faces with cameras, shouting questions. “Ms. Matthews, are you having an affair with Marcus Singleton?”

  “Is it true you’re having his baby?”

  “Do you care that he’s cheating on his girlfriend while she’s in Paris?”

  “Are you proud of being Marcus’s side chick?”

  We get a few steps before three bulky men shove their way through to us, and I recognize the security labels on their clothes. “Ms. Matthews, come with us. We’ll get you home.”

  “Get him to his car and make sure he isn’t harassed,” I insist, tilting my head toward Campbell. I look up at him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this would happen. Thanks for today.”

  “It’s okay,” he says with a shrug. “Most excitement I’ve had in months.” I drop a kiss on his cheek, and he’s led away by one of the security officers. I’m glad to see no one follows him. No, he isn’t what they’re interested in.

  “Homewrecking slut!” Someone screams before I’m hit in the head with a paper cup full of raspberry slushy. The shock of cold makes me gasp, and I’m hustled into a dark luxury car with blacked out windows.

  “Are you okay?” the officer beside me asks.

  “Yeah, wish I could say the same for my dress. I guess I have to leave my car here.”

  “One of the guys can drive it back,” he offers.

  I hand him my keys, and he hands them to the man in the passenger seat. They drop him off across the lot at my car, and we head home.

  “Thanks for the rescue.” It’s then I wonder where the hell they came from. Security stays at Foxhaven and escorts Holt. “Were you following me?”

  “Mr. Singleton has arranged for a security detail to remain close to you.”

  My first instinct is to be pissed. No one told me I was being followed, and I should’ve had a choice. But considering I’m wearing at least sixteen ounces of slushy that’s now running down between my boobs, it was clearly a good call.

  I send a text to Campbell asking him to let me know that he got home safely and apologizing again for the scene. Then I slump down in my seat and wait to get home. I’m sure there will be pictures of me with Campbell everywhere by tomorrow and the thought is exhausting.

  Maybe I need to rethink my plan for Foxhaven. Celebrity clients might bring in more money, but it may not be worth the madness that accompanies them.

  Harriet knocks on my door and calls my name. Ugh, please no more drama tonight. “Come in!” I yell, not moving from my place on the couch where I’ve been sulking for an hour.

  “I just wanted to check on you. Clark told me what happened today.”

  “Bastards ruined my dress.”

  Harriet chuckles and sits beside me.

  “I know Dad wanted Foxhaven to start catering to wealthier clients, but I’m not sure it’s going to work out.”

  She looks me in the eye. “You feel like you’re letting him down?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Sighing, she pats my leg. “Your father had a lot of ideas for this place, honey. Some good and some bad, and I’d be the last to try to figure out which fit which category, but I know he made one sound decision. He left this place to you. He did what he set out to do, build a successful business and pass it on to his daughter. He will always be a part of this place and its history, but the future of it is up to you. If you want my advice—”

  “I do,” I reply. “I always do.”

  “Stop thinking about what he would want and run things the way you think is best. Do what’s right for your business, but also for yourself, because I know what he wanted most was for you to be happy. And child, you don’t seem very happy lately.”

  I wrap my arms around her and give her a big hug. “Thank you.”

  “You can come and talk to me anytime, you know that.”

  “I know I haven’t been around much.”

  “Of course not,” she says, getting to her feet. “You’ve been too busy getting chased by paparazzi and making out with rock stars.”

  My mouth drops open. “How did you know I kissed him?” Please tell me there wasn’t a video of that.

  “You just told me.”

  “Dirty trick,” I grumble.

  “Just be careful around that one. If you let your vagina make the decisions, your heart will suffer the consequences.”

  We both crack up, and she heads for the door. “He’s a great tipper though, and his room is never too dirty, so he can’t be all bad,” she says before leaving.

  Damn, if he’s winning over Harriet, he must really be turning on the charm.

  I’m tired of sulking in my suite and some fresh air sounds good. I don’t bother fixing my hair or anything since it’s late and I’m just going to sit on the back deck where I can see the stars reflect in the lake. Some tranquility is just what I need.

  The lobby is empty when I step out of the elevator, except for Brandy, who works the desk tonight. She gives me a wave, then goes back to whatever game she’s playing on her phone. The night air washes over me, fragrant with honeysuckle, as I exit the back doors onto the deck.

  I walk to the railing and close my eyes, taking it in. The warbly screech of tree frogs battles with the chirp of crickets, and the occasional cicada puts them both to shame. When the wind changes directions, I can smell magnolias and freshly cut grass.

  “Are you stalking me? Because I’m completely okay with that.”

  Holt’s voice makes me jump a mile, and I turn to see him sprawled in a lounger in the shadows at the edge of the deck. “Holt! Are you trying to make me pee myself?” I snap, waiting for my heart to slow back to a normal rhythm.

  His deep laughter fills the night. “Ah, no, that wasn’t my intention.”

  “I guess I’m jumpy.” I take a seat in the lounger next to his.

  “I heard you had a tough night. I’m sorry.”

  Shrugging, I lay my head back. “I just need to give it time to blow ove
r.”

  “Kinley.” The serious tone of his voice makes me look at him. “I can arrange to stay at another hotel and put out some excuse that won’t make Foxhaven look bad.”

  I’d like to say I didn’t even consider it, but I do, for a few seconds. “No, I’m no quitter.” My phone is uncomfortable in my pocket, so I pull it out to place it on the table when I remember I asked Campbell to text when he got home. It’s been on silent, and I see a message from him.

  Campbell: Home safe. You seem really nice, Kinley, but I don’t think it’s the best time for us to see each other. Thank you for today and I wish you all the best.

  Sighing, I set the phone aside. It’s for the best since I didn’t feel a connection anyway, but still, it sucks.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Nope, Campbell just dumped me by text. Well, I guess it isn’t being dumped when you only had one date that got cut short.”

  Holt is quiet for a few moments before he speaks up. “I’m sorry. But really, what did you expect from a guy named after canned soup?”

  My chest shakes from trying to hold back laughter I finally let free. “You know, I didn’t even notice that. And I grew up on Campbell’s tomato soup.”

  “Chicken noodle was my jam.”

  “Ugh, that stuff smells like sweat.”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “That’s gross, bug.”

  I should probably be offended by the nickname he’s given me since bugs aren’t exactly sexy, but for some reason, I like it. “It is,” I agree. A firefly lands on my palm, and I flip my hand over, letting it crawl around.

  He watches me for a minute. “So, you’re an antisocial moth that attracts fireflies?”

  “The air is thick with them tonight. Reminds me of catching them in a jar when I was a kid.”

  “I never did that. I had a friend who showed me you could squish them and smear the light on your finger to make a glowing ring, but it seemed kind of nasty.”