In Development

by Rachel Spangler

  “Tonsil hockey?” Lila smacked her in the stomach lightly. “As if. I didn’t even use tongue.”

  “That’s not what People magazine is going to report tomorrow,” Cobie said playfully.

  “And how do you know?”

  “Because while you were kissing me, I did this.” Cobie stuck her tongue firmly in her cheek and wiggled it around so it could be seen from the outside.

  Lila’s eyes went wide and her face flushed. “You did not!”

  Cobie shrugged. “You said you wanted to take things up a notch.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking. Please, please, please, Cobie.”

  “Okay, I’m kidding, but if I’d known it would get you to beg my name, I would’ve tried it sooner.”

  Lila rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure I like you as well when you’re playing young Marlon Brando. I might have actually preferred the doe-eyed ingénue who stepped on my suede shoes.”

  Cobie’s heart gave a twinge at the desire to have that statement be true, but it wasn’t, or maybe it was, but not for the reasons she would have liked. “She was probably easier to control.”

  “Indeed,” Lila said, then after a heavy pause added, “though maybe a little too susceptible to bad influences.”

  “And now?” Cobie asked as they approached a darkened doorway and had a velvet rope pulled back for them.

  “Tonight you seem just as likely to do the corrupting as allow yourself to be corrupted.”

  Another chill ran through Cobie, along with the realization that while she wasn’t sure if the statement was true, part of her desperately wanted it to be.

  • • •

  Cobie’s body brushed against hers, the silky cool of her tuxedo pants against Lila’s bare legs in direct contrast to the heat of her hands on her hips. The bass beat pumped through them as the lights pulsed in time overhead. Every eye in the club was on them, and a slew of cell phone cameras as well, but Cobie never once let them down. Lila would have never admitted to being worried about Cobie’s moves, but she silently wondered how long the Midwestern-girl-made-good could last on the dance floor with someone who had music flowing through her veins. Those fears were apparently unfounded. Cobie not only followed beautifully, she also managed to lead a time or two.

  Suddenly the song changed from a standard techno thrum and throb to an excessive mechanical overlay of a familiar melody. A celebratory cheer went up from the gyrating masses around them. Lila smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgment to the DJ as her own voice rattled through the sound system.

  “Are you going to sing for them?” Cobie asked.

  “Why? It’ll sound exactly like what he’s playing. No need to get redundant.”

  “Oh no, you’d never want to seem overexposed,” Cobie said with mock seriousness.

  Lila laughed lightly. “You’re on point tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Lila shook her head, but Cobie pulled her closer, one arm passively around her waist as their hips rocked together. Their eyes stayed trained on one another, and Lila would have been completely captivated by the tantalizing hint of mischief she saw in Cobie if not for the distraction of her lips. A little redder than they had been at the start of the evening, they were also moving. It took a few seconds for full understanding to sink in, but when it did, her eyebrows shot up. “Why, Cobie Galloway, are you singing along with one of my songs?”

  Cobie pushed her away long enough to give her a little twirl before reeling her back in. “Would it surprise you if I were?”

  “A little.”

  “Good,” Cobie whispered, then she began to really sing along. Her voice was rich and low. What it lacked in power and refinement, it made up for in raw timbre. Lila’s heart beat a little faster as her own words washed over her in the sultry sound of a voice both familiar and fascinating.

  She struggled to keep her breath even, but it took a minute to compose her thoughts enough to say, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “Maybe,” Cobie said, still moving close and fluid. “I get the feeling that doesn’t happen to you very often.”

  “It doesn’t,” Lila admitted, though she wouldn’t give away how impressed she was that Cobie managed to keep a few secrets.

  “Well, now you’ve found me out, I guess I can cop to my master plan. I never wanted to play Vale. It was all an elaborate ruse to become one of your back-up singers and go-go dancers.”

  Lila laughed immediately, picturing Cobie on stage with her, bumping and grinding while teenage girls screamed in glee. “I’d have to see you in one of the costumes before I could make a job offer. I’m thinking short skirt, lots of beadwork, tons of silver sequins.”

  “I would kill in that get up, and you know it.”

  “I might have one on the plane, though I’m not sure I can wait that long. Maybe I should call Felipe and have him fetch it.” She raised her hand as if intending to signal for Malik, but Cobie caught it and brought it lightly to her lips.

  “Maybe later.”

  “Getting cold feet?”

  “Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for.”

  “So they tell me,” Lila pouted, “but I’ve never found that to be true.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t found the right things yet,” Cobie said, turning serious.

  “And you think you’re the one to show me?”

  “That would be awfully presumptuous of me.”

  Lila smiled, noting that Cobie hadn’t exactly denied the charge, but as much as she enjoyed the little cat-and-mouse conversation, it had gone on too long to be useful. As her song came to a close with a smattering of applause, she waved to the crowd with one hand and clasped Cobie’s with the other, leading them to a VIP booth in the back of the club.

  Lush leather seats ringed a table that seemed to ooze an eerie blue light. All around the circle hung thick heavy curtains, creating a cave of cloth that protected them from the flashing strobe and clashing subwoofers. It also had the added benefit of allowing them to control who saw what.

  Lila pulled Cobie inside, staring at her like something she intended to devour, and tugged the rope holding the curtains apart, letting them fall shut with a soft rush.

  “And scene,” Cobie said, flopping onto the couch. “Nice dramatic flair there at the end. Anyone watching you undress me with your eyes has no doubt you’re ripping my clothes off right now.”

  “We’ll make sure you’re properly ruffled before they see you again,” Lila said, sitting down beside her and rubbing her tired ankles. “Your tie will be undone. I’ll get some lipstick on your collar, untuck your shirt, maybe mismatch a couple buttons.”

  “Whoa,” Cobie said, her complexion paling slightly. “So we’re to assume you got to second base.”

  “And you might’ve gotten to third.”

  Cobie swallowed hard enough to make the knot of her white tie bob ever so slightly. “Before we get on any bases, would it be possible to maybe take a fully-clothed and completely nonsexual selfie?”

  Lila frowned. “I’m not sure that helps us any at this point. I’m glad you’re getting into the social media scene, but we have to be careful about the narrative we’re constructing. You shouldn’t share platonic photos with the press tonight, or probably for a while actually.”

  “It’s not for the press.” The color rushed back to Cobie’s cheeks. “It’s, um, for my little sister.”

  “You want a picture with me to send to your sister?” Amusement filled Lila’s voice.

  Cobie’s blush deepened. “I know it’s a working weekend, and I’m supposed to be focused, but I don’t get to see her much, so we text at least once a day. When I promised to stay in touch, she asked for pictures.”

  “Does she know we’re not really dating?”

  Cobie shook her head and stared down at her hands.

  “And you hate that?”

  Cobie nodded and sighed. “She knows not to talk to the press, not that she would. We’re a quiet fam
ily, but I didn’t want to put her in a position where she felt like she had to lie for me. Or maybe like she would think of me as a liar.”

  Lila’s heart gave a disconcerting thud at the realization that Cobie actually cared. She cared about being honest with her sister, she cared about protecting her, and she cared about being a hero in a young girl’s eyes. “You’re doing your job, Cobie.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I’d go that far, but I’ve made my choices. I’m a big girl. She’s just a kid, and I want to keep her that way as long as I can.”

  Her chest tightened again at the protectiveness in Cobie’s voice. That kind of concern didn’t win her any fans or make her any money. It simply existed somewhere deep inside her.

  “So, selfie?”

  She forced a smile and scooted close to her on the couch. “Of course.”

  Cobie held her phone at arm’s length and framed the shot. They both smiled brightly as she pressed the shutter button. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. How old is she?”

  “Fourteen,” Cobie said.

  “She’s right in my wheelhouse.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to say you’re her second favorite celebrity, but she doesn’t have any posters of me on her wall.”

  Lila laughed. “You should bring her to one of my shows next month. It’ll earn you big sister points.”

  “Oh, my God, her birthday’s in March.” Her excitement was immediate and too exuberant to be anything but real. “I would win big sister of the year! Are you sure it wouldn’t cramp your fauxmance game?”

  “I have no intention of making out with you on stage, if that’s what you mean.”

  “You never know. You might find me so irresistible when you see how awesome I am with my sister,” Cobie boasted. “I am superhero sibling material. I mean, you might have sisters or brothers that you think are cool, but—”

  “I don’t,” Lila said abruptly, her throat suddenly hot and dry.

  Cobie blinked. “You don’t what?”

  “Have any siblings I think are cool.” The whiplash from Cobie’s genuineness to the topic of her own family left her vision blurry around the edges. She picked up her phone and opened a text to Malik, desperate for a distraction.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just really like my sister a lot. I guess that’s kind of nerdy.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She can come to the show.” She waved her hand as if she could somehow wipe away the topic and all the conflicting emotions it inspired. “I need a drink. You want something?”

  “Um, yeah, sure. Water?”

  Lila nodded and texted Malik with instructions on the drinks and on the final act of their little play. She was ready to get back to work. She was aware enough to realize a simple conversation about siblings shouldn’t be nearly as fraught as the thought of making out with a woman in a club for publicity’s sake, but she didn’t particularly care about what she should feel. She only cared about what she did feel, and right now that was the need to reassert control.

  “We’ve got two minutes before Malik gets here. He’s going to open the curtain all the way. We need to look like he interrupted something. Then he’s going to leave the curtain open just enough to offer a few minutes of tantalizing view.”

  “Then I lead you out of here all sexily disheveled and possessive,” Cobie finished. “Got it.”

  “Good.” Lila nodded resolutely, her pulse returning to normal. “Anything off limits?”

  “Your hands stay over my clothes from the belt down.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you?”

  “Same. All exposed skin is fair game. Don’t expose anything else.”

  Cobie’s eyes raked over her legs, but her expression remained neutral. “And if I do anything you don’t like or feel uncomfortable with at any point, pinch me on the side or the arm, and I’ll stop.”

  “Oh, that’s a handy trick. Did you learn that in the movies?”

  Cobie smiled. “I’ve never explicitly stated that rule to anyone before, but I’ve had to use it a time or two myself.”

  Lila frowned at the idea of some man taking that kind of liberty with Cobie’s body against her will, and her chest filled with those pesky emotions again at the thought of Cobie making accommodations so she wouldn’t have to face the same sort of discomfort. It reminded her of their first kiss, the real one, the feel of Cobie’s lips so soft and the concern evident in those dark eyes, both then and now.

  She quickly reached up and tugged the loose end of Cobie’s white tie until it fell splayed across her collar.

  “Oh, we’re going now,” Cobie muttered as she popped open the top few buttons on her collar. “Okay then.”

  Lila unclasped Cobie’s hair, sinking her fingers into the lush strands and shaking them out so they fell across her shoulders. “Lose the jacket.”

  She complied, tossing it onto the back of the booth, and tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. “Lipstick ready?”

  “Right. Let me reapply.” Lila grabbed her clutch and pulled out her make-up, using a bold shade to coat her lips before blotting just the lower one on the crease of Cobie’s starched collar.

  Cobie watched, giving her the thumbs up. “Looks smashing on both you and on me.”

  “Then I guess it’s time for you to smear it.”

  Cobie did her usual shoulder roll that signified her getting back into character, but this time, her pupils expanded as she turned to face her fully. She slipped her arm around Lila’s back, scooting firmly against her and planting a dramatic kiss on her lips.

  The scene flowed effortlessly from there. Lila caught a fistful of her shirt and twisted it until another button popped open. Cobie pressed forward, taking control of Lila’s mouth in ways she hadn’t before. The tentative softness of the first kiss had been replaced by the command of a woman who knew what she was doing. Her lips moved with confidence and skill matched only by her hands. Cobie sank her fingers into the hair at the base of Lila’s neck, using the grip to urge her back until she lay flat on the leather bench. Lying half on top of her, she cupped her ass and slipped her arm down along her leg, urging it up as she went. Lila had no trouble following her direction. It was as if Cobie knew what her body wanted to do on its own and merely gave it the freedom to do so.

  Lila hooked one high heel onto the bench and a leg around Cobie’s thigh until they were tangled together beautifully. The position couldn’t have been more erotic if she had staged it herself, and it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t.

  Somewhere between setting the parameters for the scene and actually playing it out, Cobie had taken over, and she’d done so with such adept skill Lila hadn’t noticed. Maybe it was the easy way she moved, or simply her ability to take direction and make it work for her, but part of her also suspected Cobie was simply a very good kisser. Certainly better than the men, but maybe even better than Lila, who only managed to return, not exceed, what she’d been given.

  Her breath came hot and sharp at both the contact between them, and also the growing awareness that her response was not contrived. Her pulse quickened, much the way it had when Cobie turned sincere, and the same fear rushed behind it. Everything felt real, and while it should always look that way to the outside eye, letting those feelings seep inside her was dangerous on so many levels.

  The curtains were pulled wide around them. Bass and light assaulted their senses, and they both shot up off the bench. Malik had hit his mark perfectly, standing to the side with two drinks in hand and plenty of space for photographers, both amateur and pro, to get their shot of them. If the flashes were any indication, they did so with fervor. She blinked and straightened her dress, not quite playacting at disorientation. Cobie held up a hand to shield her face, either from the onslaught of light or the photos, but she also reached for Lila’s hand and found it almost as if by instinct. She leaned toward the contact, putting her own body between the invasion and Lila. The move wasn’t great from a publicity standp
oint, but once again, Lila suspected the protectiveness came naturally to Cobie. Unfortunately, she didn’t share that compulsion.

  Lila didn’t need to be sheltered or cared for. She didn’t really need anything from anybody. She was a strong, independent woman who set her own scenes. She made all her own choices, and chivalry was dead.

  “Come on.” She squeezed Cobie’s hand and pulled her up. “We’re leaving.”

  “I thought we were going to—”

  “I thought you were going to take direction,” she snapped through a smile contrived for the cameras.

  “Anything you say, dear.” Cobie’s voice didn’t sound certain or even compliant so much as resigned.

  She swept out of the VIP area, dragging Cobie behind her. She assumed Malik set down the drinks and rushed to follow them. He was a professional. He could roll with the punches. So could Cobie. She had already rebounded and had her arm around Lila’s waist and her tuxedo jacket slung over her shoulder as they made a break for the exit. The crowd on the dance floor parted to let them through, and even they kept their cameras rolling. Everyone on this stage played their part to perfection. Not one of them missed a beat or broke character. They never faltered. They never cracked. Everyone did exactly as she ordered.

  Everyone but her.

  Chapter Five

  “Nice place.” Cobie set her suitcase down in the entryway of the large brownstone.

  “We like it,” Felipe said as he eyed her suspiciously.

  “You live here too?”

  “In the servants’ quarters. She don’t let the hired help use the front entrance. Brown folks might bring down the property values.”

  “Oh, I’m . . .” She didn’t even know what to say. She felt indignant on his behalf, and embarrassed, which only amplified the urge to flee this next step in their charade. Finally, she managed to blurt, “I’m so sorry.”

  He threw back his head and cackled. “I’m just messing with you, chica. Damn, your face was priceless. I didn’t think you could get any whiter. This is going to be fun!”