Stan cleared his throat. “Sounds like everything is right on track for where we need it to be.”
“Need it to be for what?” Cobie asked.
“We’re halfway through the charade,” Mimi said, pulling out her iPhone and tapping a few buttons. “It’s time for your big number, the climax if you will.”
Felipe snickered from the corner, but Cobie refused to look at him for fear she’d give too much away. “Climax?”
“The big show,” Stan said. “Your most public appearance as a couple before we start to unravel the whole thing.”
“Unravel. Right,” Cobie said uneasily. Somehow, she’d gotten so focused on keeping everything together for the last few months, she hadn’t let herself think about how they’d gleefully blow all their hard work to bits.
“We’ve got a plan,” Mimi said, “and of course it’s up to you, but we think it’s a good one.”
Lila didn’t seem nearly as eager as she had in the first meeting. She sat back in her chair and quietly nodded, her eyes dull and tired. It hadn’t escaped Cobie’s notice that she seemed more content than ever to let Mimi and Stan drive this bus.
“We think you need to have a party, an exclusive bash,” Mimi said.
“A costume party. Lots of famous friends, all of them dressed as their favorite literary character. Cobie, you obviously go as Vale and let everyone and their dog take selfies with you,” Stan said. Turning to Lila, he added, “The highlight of the evening will be an intimate performance of one of your new songs.”
“It’ll be the event of the season,” Mimi practically squealed. “Picture beautiful people, so much talent, lavish everything, and flashbulbs going off all over the place. You two will be super dramatic. You can even work up some tense dialogue and make sure you let people accidently overhear.”
She put accidently in air quotes as if Cobie hadn’t already understood the implications. She was supposed to invite a bunch of sharks into the pool with her, and then make sure she shed a little blood.
“Isn’t it perfect?” Mimi asked in a tone that made it clear she expected the answer to be yes.
Lila nodded slowly. “Make it a fundraiser. Childhood literacy, LGBT library, elementary school funding. Something for kids or education to make the book costumes feel less contrived.”
“And because raising money for kids is always a good idea,” Cobie added.
“Of course,” Stan said, making a few notes. “I’ll research reputable organizations. But other than that, it’s perfect, right?”
Lila turned to Cobie, clearly deferring to her, which, in its own way, was weird enough without taking into account that having a bunch of famous people and photographers all up in her personal business was generally Lila’s bag and Cobie’s complete nightmare.
And yet, she had no real argument. The plan was genius. She’d get to step into character for the whole world to see without ever having to sign any contracts. She could show everyone exactly what she wanted them to see, and she’d get to do so with Lila by her side. The last part probably shouldn’t have mattered nearly as much as it did, but somewhere along the way, Lila had become as big a part of her character development process as anything else. It wouldn’t feel right to debut Vale without her there. So sitting back, feeling more relaxed than she would have thought possible a few months ago, she said, “Yeah. Sure. Let’s do this.”
Chapter Nine
Lila switched off the sewing machine and held up her handiwork. It hadn’t been easy to get the thick black canvas of the hood attached evenly to the stiff leather of the motorcycle jacket, but the end result had made the effort worthwhile. She wanted to be the one to make this happen. She wrote it off as being a control freak, but her sense of responsibility to Addie and her debt of gratitude to Cobie also played a role. Still, she chose to focus on the fun parts of getting to dress Cobie up like her own little hooded punk Barbie for a party.
Then there would be the hefty check for Addie, because Cobie wearing her design to the party would no doubt count as a business event. Lila had already set her up in a small apartment in a safe neighborhood and arranged for a transitional guardian to help her finish the emancipation process. The money she’d made off the concept would cover her share of the rent and feed her long enough to get her on her feet. The bonus of Cobie wearing the piece would keep her stable long enough to finish high school via the state online curriculum. If the party went as well as Stan and Mimi hoped, the outfit could even become a concept piece for a major blockbuster. Then Addie would have all kinds of doors open to her. She was getting a little ahead of herself, but she liked where the idea was headed.
“Hey, what you up to?”
Lila jumped so hard she hit her knee on the sewing table and dropped the jacket to the floor.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I made noise coming up the stairs, and the door was open.”
“You’re fine,” Lila said quickly. “I was just lost in thought. I didn’t hear you.”
“What are you working on that has you so engrossed?” Cobie bent over as if intending to pick up the jacket from the floor, but Lila kicked it out of the way and scooted her chair over to block it.
“Sorry.” Cobie stepped back, brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s nothing.”
“Whatever you say.” Cobie frowned and started to back away. “I just hadn’t ever seen you in here before. I didn’t even know you could sew.”
“I learned as a kid.”
“Oh yeah? Who taught you?”
“No one.” Lila grimaced at her sharp tone but couldn’t rein it in as quickly as usual. “I just picked it up.”
“Right,” Cobie said, sounding completely unconvinced. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you don’t want to tell me about.”
“Have a good night,” Lila managed to mumble to Cobie’s back as she walked away.
God, what was wrong with her? She picked up the jacket and held it up. She fingered the leather, which was contoured enough to give a subtle hint of Cobie’s feminine waist but firm enough to keep from being scintillating. She’d added a few scuffed-up skater-style plates down one arm from the shoulder to the elbow. She circled each one with her fingertips, enjoying the contrast between their rigidity and the supple give of the sleeves. Why hadn’t she shown it to Cobie? She’d been right there. She’d wanted to talk. She’d reached out, again, like she’d tried to do so many times over the last two weeks. Cobie seemed so good about making the first overture. Why couldn’t Lila accept gentle offers of simple connection?
Maybe because that’s all Cobie offered. The first overture, the simple conversation, the initial contact, but what about the next step? Cobie never seemed to follow up anymore. She retreated at the slightest hesitation or pushback from Lila. The steadiness Lila had been drawn to had all but vanished, leaving her to wonder if Cobie really did want to connect or if she was merely being polite. Clearly, they’d crossed that line in the past. Maybe Cobie was afraid of doing so again. Perhaps that’s why she ran anytime Lila offered her an excuse to do so.
The thought disappointed her. Cobie had seemed so strong as she held her. She hadn’t taken the easy way that night. She hadn’t accepted Lila’s attempt to lead them both into physical oblivion. She had done and said all the right things, but what if she hadn’t meant them? She’d promised to be there, to hold her, to protect her. Now she couldn’t even trust her to stand firm in the face of a few socially awkward exchanges.
She shook her head and folded the jacket, setting it neatly on top of a pair of layered and patched cargo pants. She knew she wasn’t being fair to Cobie, but she also knew better than to trust promises made in the moment. Everyone’s first instinct was to offer soothing words or fleeting vows of solidarity, but when things got dark and hard and dangerous, people always chose their own self-interest. She did. How could she blame Cobie for feeling any different? She hadn’t asked for anything other than a publicity boost, and honest
ly, she hadn’t even really asked for that. She had no obligation to stand by Lila as she cried out in the night. Selena, at least, had legitimate reasons to stay— genuine connections, a past, a history— and none of them had meant anything in the end.
Selena.
How had she ended up there again? The dream? Her conversation with Malik? Or something deeper? Lila didn’t like the way those memories had become intertwined with her and Cobie’s current disconnect. She remembered Malik saying something about making peace and moving on. Maybe that’s what she needed to do. At least the moving on part sounded good. The peace part did too when she thought about it. Peace didn’t have to mean surrender. It could just mean coming to terms, right?
Right. She answered her own question with a fleeting thought for her own sanity as she snatched up the costume and padded down the hall.
She rapped lightly on Cobie’s bedroom door, and it swung slowly open. “Hello? Cobie?”
She didn’t get an answer, so she peeked her head inside just to be sure. The room was empty, the bed made, with a few items of clothing strewn across the comforter. She smiled, glad to see Cobie wasn’t perfectly ordered all the time. She crept into the room and set the folded pants and jacket on the pillow, which still held the imprint of Cobie’s head. She patted the gift lightly, smiling at the thought of Cobie finding it there later, and turned to go. She had her hand on the doorknob when Cobie’s voice called her back.
She stopped. No, Cobie hadn’t called out to her. She’d sung. A soft muffled sound at first, but it pulled Lila through the room to the bathroom door. Cobie’s voice lifted in a familiar melody, accentuated by the beat of water against tile. Lila smiled as she leaned against the wall next to the door.
Cobie was singing in the shower. And not just any song either, one of Lila’s. Passions uncaged, fires burning, flame to the page. She’d heard her lyrics covered by others before, but never had anyone made her own words sound so sexy. Cobie’s voice thrummed low and raw, unpolished and yet compelling, or maybe that was Lila’s own bias for the singer filtering in. The heat spread through her body as Cobie reached the chorus. Lila could picture the cloud of steam surrounding her as hot water sluiced over hard muscles. She shuddered at the mental image of Cobie’s slick glistening skin, so taut and— God, what was she doing? Standing outside a bathroom door fantasizing about the naked woman inside? Who had she become?
She couldn’t go down this path again. She had to regain her composure. She had to find some way to compartmentalize what she was feeling. She should leave, but where would she go? To her own room and obsess about Cobie and the feelings she didn’t want her to inspire? It was too much. Cobie was too much. She could burn Lila up, just like the flames to the page she sang about. God, she’d never fully felt her own lyrics until she heard them against the drumbeat of water cascading over a perfect body.
No. She couldn’t think of her as some temptation too close to resist. Cobie had to be a colleague. She had to get her the part. She had to think of her as a job. But God, if the producers only knew what they’d missed in this woman, Lila wouldn’t be the only one drooling over her. Cobie offered the total package: smart, hot, talented. She was a fucking artistic goldmine. Why didn’t anyone but Lila see that?
An idea struck quickly, and she clung to it with the desperation of a drowning woman to a life preserver. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened a video recorder just as Cobie reached the chorus again. She filmed the bathroom door, which wasn’t a compelling visual to accompany the sultry sounds of Cobie’s voice, but if her followers’ imaginations could fill in the blanks half as well as Lila’s, Cobie would be an Internet sex symbol by morning. She would move up another notch in the celebrity food chain, which would put her one rung closer to her dream job, which would be the end of her and Lila’s need to work together.
Her heart thudded dully in her chest at the thought of Cobie being done with her, but that was all the more reason to hurry the process along. She was so close to making it out of this charade relatively unscathed, she had to finish the job.
Taking a deep breath, she screwed up all her courage and pressed “Share,” then quickly walked away.
• • •
Cobie could hear her phone rattling even from inside the shower. One buzz, then another, until the vibrations and pings became a near steady whir of alerts.
“What in all the fucks?” She’d had a hard day on set, taking a literal ass-kicking at times, and all she’d wanted to do was have a long, hot, relaxing shower to loosen her tight and bruised muscles. Why did one hundred people suddenly decide now was the time to chat or tweet or email or whatever the hell they were doing to her phone.
Sighing heavily, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel. The phone continued to buzz while she tried to dry off and finally stepped, still dripping from her legs, onto the lush bathmat. She’d grown used to these little bursts over the last few months. They always came at random times. Maybe this one was about her movie. She shook her head. These blasts usually had to do with Lila. Someone ran a new photo of her and Lila, or Lila tagged her in a tweet, or Lila made an announcement that had nothing to do with her but she got wrapped up in it by virtue of social proximity.
She swiped open the notification center on her phone and saw over one hundred items from social to personal. All of them had video in the tagline. She rolled her eyes. Someone had shared a video of her. She didn’t doubt who. She’d learned to roll with it and was just about to toss the phone back on the counter when a text came through from Emma. “Wow, surprised you let her post that. You must really like her.”
Cobie frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Before she could ponder more, a text from Talia popped up. “Please tell me you knew about this beforehand.”
“What?” She asked both aloud and in text.
A link came back immediately as if Talia had anticipated the question, followed by another message that said, “I’m going to take that as a no.”
Cobie walked to the bed, still clad in only a damp towel, but she worried she might need to sit down as she clicked on the link.
At first, she didn’t know what she was watching. Just a grainy dimly lit video of a door? Then she glanced up. It was her door. Her bathroom door. She thumbed up the volume button in time to hear her own voice, and her stomach turned nauseatingly. How? Why? Who?
Lila.
Grabbing her dirty shirt from the floor, she pulled it on and charged out of the bedroom. “Lila!”
The sense of betrayal ripped through her veins as she tore upstairs. Lila wasn’t in the sewing room or the living room, so Cobie pounded on her bedroom door. “Lila, open up!”
When the door finally opened, Cobie didn’t wait for an answer before shoving her phone screen in Lila’s face. “What the fuck?”
Lila took a step back, either from Cobie’s proximity or the force in her voice. “Cobie.”
“Don’t ‘Cobie’ me. You videoed me in the shower?”
“No!”
“Then how did this bullshit end up on your feed?”
“I shot the video, but I didn’t get you in the shower. The door’s closed.”
“Do you think anyone has any doubt what’s happening here?”
Lila shook her head. “You can’t see anything.”
“That’s not the point. You snuck into my room and videotaped me during what I thought was a private moment, then posted it on the Internet.”
Lila snatched the phone out of her hand and turned it back around to face Cobie. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, the world is in love with it.”
“That’s not the point,” Cobie snapped.
“What is the point?” Lila shouted back. The initial shock of Cobie’s anger had clearly worn off, and she’d found a little spitfire of her own.
“You invaded my privacy.”
“Oh, now I see. I’d think the point was that this video is promotional gold. Have you seen the comments?”
“No.”
<
br /> Lila turned the phone back around and ran her finger through what Cobie could only assume were viewer responses as she read, “Wow, that’s hot.” “Did anyone else know she could sing?” “Is it just me, or did Cobie Galloway just get way sexier?” “I’m kind of questioning my sexuality here, guys.” “Why isn’t this woman in all the movies?” “Why isn’t this woman in all the showers?”
She tossed the phone back to Cobie, who caught it awkwardly. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get why you’re standing in front of me in a wet shirt and a precariously placed towel, acting morally indignant? No. I don’t, but it’s a good look for you. I’m tempted to take a picture of this . . .” Lila drew an air circle around Cobie with her index finger. “And post it all over the Internet too.”
“I want to say you wouldn’t dare, but why not, right? What’s next? Would you sneak into my room and get pictures of me sleeping? Want to snip a lock of my hair and sell it on eBay? Oh, how about I draw you a vial of blood? Would you like that?”
“Yeah,” Lila said defiantly, “if it would help bump up our image, yes I would. I’d work hard, and I’d sell hard, because guess what? That’s my job! I take my job seriously. The bigger question is why don’t you?”
“How dare you! I take my job every bit as seriously as you do.”
“Do you?” Lila asked with mockery in her voice, “because if you did, your head would explode with gratitude for that video. In thirty seconds, it raised your mass-market sexual appeal like three levels. You don’t want to be seen as a teen star anymore? Then grow up.”
“Adulthood doesn’t mean tramping myself up for the World Wide Web.”
“No, but it does mean making tough choices between what you want and what you need.”
“Yeah, and it’s also about making those choices for myself.” Cobie refused to back down. “I didn’t get to make this choice, Lila. You made it for me.”
“If I’d shown you the video, you would have deleted it.”
In Development Page 22