Looking Real Good

by C. Morgan

  Rebecca pressed her lips together and was quiet for a minute.

  I didn’t know where all of this was coming from. I never intended to share my past like this, especially with a reporter, but the words were flowing, and part of me suspected this meant it was time for the truth to come out.

  There was no more time to hide the boy I used to be from the world.

  “Do you think your past is what made you into the man you are today?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Sure, but isn’t that the case for all of us?”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I overheard a conversation last night that rubbed me the wrong way and I left before I spoiled the evening for everyone,” I said. “There was ignorance in that room that made me feel ashamed because I used to—” I broke off and shook my head.

  “Used to what?”

  I used to be like Lewis and Ken. I was a damn bastard for it, too.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I shifted in my chair. “The point is, those with less means are just as deserving of having their stories told, of being respected, as people who have everything. Or the illusion of everything.”

  “The illusion of everything?” Rebecca pressed.

  “Fast cars, big houses, luxurious high-rise office towers. None of that matters. None of that equates to having everything.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “What does equate to having everything, Mr. Holt?”

  I studied her and she stared calmly back. “I don’t know yet,” I said truthfully.

  “But you’re trying to find out?”

  “I think I’m making a mess of things, but yes, I’m trying to find out.”

  Rebecca pressed the little red button on her recording device and leaned back in her chair. “I think people are going to like what you have to say.”

  “I didn’t say it so they would like it. I said it because it’s the truth.”

  “I know,” she said, her dark eyes still twinkling. “And I respect it. You are not the man I took you for when we first met. Thank you for being so open with me. This is what makes good articles. Truth and insight. And a good picture, of course.” She got to her feet and tucked her recorder in her purse. She paused and turned to me. “Would you like to grab a drink and talk a little more? Off the record, of course.”

  Her forwardness surprised me. Had Rebecca Mills just asked me out on a date?

  She was beautiful, intelligent, talented, hardworking. She checked all the boxes. But she wasn’t the woman I wanted. A few weeks ago, I might have said yes, even knowing that fact. I might have strung her along and indulged her in a drink or four, and then I might have taken her back to my place to show off my home and my bedroom.

  But things were different now.

  “Thank you, but I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Let’s keep our conversations on the record.”

  Rebecca gave me a pleasant but tight-lipped smile. “On the record, it is. We’ll talk soon then. Have a good night.”

  “You too.” I walked her to the door, let her out of my office, and closed it behind her.

  I settled back into my chair behind my desk and spun to face the windows. In the distance, little white dots marked sailboats on the Puget Sound. A restlessness that had been burning inside me before the interview returned, and I knew there was only one way to silence it.

  I needed to talk to Kayla.

  Somehow, I had to make things better between us. I hated the thought of moving forward with Good Fellow’s but not with Kayla. Somehow, there had to be something I could do to repair the damage I’d done.

  We had to talk openly, and the only way to do that was in person. I fetched my coat from the back of my office door and left, hoping to find Kayla at her Good Fellow’s head office.

  Chapter 24

  Kayla

  Lisa frowned at the water cooler as it bubbled and burped while spitting water into a biodegradable six-ounce cup.

  “You really need to get some upgrades done, Kayla.” She straightened up when her cup was full and drained the contents in three sips. She tossed the cup in the garbage can beside the cooler and frowned when I arched a skeptical eyebrow at her. “What?”

  “Those are compostable. I buy them for a reason. They go in the green bin.”

  Lisa looked down at the garbage can. “It’s a cup.”

  “It’s a biodegradable cup,” I said. “The whole point is that it cuts back on waste and plastics. Please put it in the green bin.”

  Muttering to herself, Lisa bent over, retrieved the cup, and dropped it in the green bin beside the garbage can. “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She wiped her hands on her jeans. Today, Lisa was wearing a pair of dark-washed bell bottoms and red pointed-toe heels. Her black blouse was tucked into the jeans and part of me really envied her outfit. I would never know what it was like to rock an ensemble like that. The nicest thing I’d ever worn was the silk dress I wore to the gala, and that had been Lisa’s. I didn’t own anything glamorous enough to wear to a gala, so I’d had to ask her to borrow something.

  At first, she’d tried to get me into a royal-blue fitted bodice with a full skirt. It seemed ludicrous to me and reminded me of a prom dress. There was no way as a grown-ass woman and the director of a successful non-profit that I was going to show up to a function in a dress made for eighteen-year-olds.

  Lisa rested her elbow on top of the water cooler and her temple in her palm. “So we knocked it out of the park with the gala, huh?”

  “We?”

  “You and Lukas,” she conceded with a knowing smile. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not trying to steal credit. But it went off without a hitch and you pulled in just over three hundred grand. That’s wild! You must be proud of yourself.”

  “It’s a good feeling for sure.”

  “And just think,” Lisa said as she moved over to my desk and sat down in one of my chairs. “This will raise the company’s profile among other tech companies in Seattle. Maybe it’ll even engage a little competition. Competition always means good things for charities. Who doesn’t want a bunch of people throwing money their way in the name of friendly one-upmanship?”

  “It’s beneficial for sure.”

  I was lying through my teeth. Yes, I was pleased about the amount of money we’d raised at the gala, but I wasn’t all that pleased with the results of the fundraiser. Sure, the money was going to make a positive and necessary impact in a lot of people’s lives, but the engagement with the attendees at the gala was low. In translation, all that meant was they didn’t really care what charities they were donating to or what the cause of said charities were. About sixty percent of the people in attendance only showed up because it gave them something to do that night.

  To add salt to the wound, I couldn’t help but feel a little bitter toward Lukas, who’d insisted we host this gala and then ended up being equally if not more disappointed by it than I was. And I’d put in some serious work to pull it off. I’d skipped meals, missed shifts at the soup kitchen, and holed up in my office for an extra three hours a day to make that night happen.

  “What do you think we should tackle next?” Lisa asked.

  “Next?”

  She nodded earnestly. “Yes. What, did you think we were going to stop there? I don’t think so. Lukas needs all the help he can get, and even though the gala was fruitful, it’s not exactly the best form of PR. We need more hands-on and engaging activities for him to throw himself into. Like the orchard. So tell me, what are some of your ideas?”

  My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I tried to speak, but all that came out was a muffled sound.

  Lisa opened her purse and rummaged around. She paused to look up at me. “Pardon?”

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t know what’s next.”

  Admittedly, I was afraid to spend any more time like that with Lukas. Time with him was what had gotten me in hot water in the first place. How was I s
upposed to keep my guard up if I kept getting thrown into situations like the orchard? That was the nail in the coffin for me. Seeing him with Angelica had softened the frost around his heart and torn down the walls I’d built around my own.

  And now Lisa wanted me to do more of that?

  Lisa found a tube of lip gloss, unscrewed the cap, and swiped it on her lips. It was shimmery and red. “Well, you’d better figure something out quickly. Rebecca Mills wants more material. She called the other day and told me she had an excellent interview with Lukas the other day. Apparently better than all the others. She claims he really got vulnerable with her.”

  “Lukas? Vulnerable?”

  “Yep, I was shocked too.” Lisa tucked the lip gloss back in her bag. “Apparently, it’s quite the interview. Rebecca said I’ll want to read it. I assume you will, too.”

  “Sure.”

  “Now,” Lisa said, leaning forward and clasping her hands together on my desk. “Let’s talk about how we can put that brother of mine to work.”

  My cheeks burned. I have a few ideas of how I could put him to work.

  I was about to answer Lisa’s question when the office door opened.

  Lisa twisted in her seat and clicked her tongue when she realized it was Lukas blocking the sunlight streaming through the glass door. “Well, well, well,” she said, “speak of the devil.”

  Lukas’ jaw tightened at the sight of his sister and I knew immediately he hadn’t expected her to be here, which meant he was here to see me.

  Why? What do you want?

  He swallowed. His Adam’s apple slid deliciously up and down his throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Me?” Lisa asked, pressing an innocent hand to her chest. “Why shouldn’t I be here? I’m visiting my best friend. Why are you here?”

  Lukas’ eyes darted to me. “I wanted to discuss the charity food drive with Kayla.”

  “Food drive?” Lisa twisted back to me. “You never mentioned a food drive.”

  “Lukas and I had only discussed it,” I said. “We hadn’t committed to it.”

  Lukas cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels as he slid his hands in his pant pockets. “I was just in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d pop in and say hello. We haven’t seen each other since the gala.”

  I licked my lips. “No, we haven’t.”

  Lisa looked back and forth between her brother and me. “Well, aren’t you going to sit down then?”

  Lukas shook his head. “No, you two chat. I couldn’t stay long anyway.”

  “Then why pop in?” Lisa pressed.

  Lukas scowled at her. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferably nosy?”

  Lisa grinned. “All the time. It’s part of my charm.”

  “Charm,” he scoffed as he turned back to the door. “Keep telling yourself that, little sister.”

  I stood up. “Lukas, I—”

  “I’ll catch you around,” Lukas said, and then he was gone.

  I stood there like an idiot staring after him while Lisa frowned up at me.

  “Did you do something to piss him off?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on with him lately. I guess I never know. He’s all over the map. One minute, I think I have him pinned down, and the next, he pops in to your office saying he was just passing through the neighborhood.” She let out a sarcastic laugh. “As if anyone in their right mind would just pass through this neighborhood?”

  I swallowed my frown at my friend’s insensitive remark. Clearly, Lisa was becoming just as out of touch with her roots as Lukas had. Since when did she consider herself too good for this neighborhood?

  My neighborhood?

  “Anyway,” Lisa said, leaning back in her chair so she could kick her red-soled high heels up on my desk. “Let’s talk about what’s next for you and Lukas.”

  “What’s next?” I asked innocently. Ever since sleeping with Lukas, I was on high alert about everything his sister said. I couldn’t help it. I constantly thought she was trying to suss it out of me that I’d hooked up with her brother—when in reality, she was just carrying on with life as usual.

  “Yes, I want something with great visuals. Something that will photograph well. You know, like how the orchard did? We need something hands-on and exciting for Lukas to tackle. Something others haven’t done before.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek and considered what she was asking me for. “Hang on. I have a list of upcoming charity events. You can pick whichever one sounds like a good fit.”

  I rummaged through my filing cabinet drawers and did my best to ignore the look of judgment on Lisa’s face. I could hear her own thoughts screaming in my head: if you’d just clean your office, you wouldn’t have to look for things.

  She didn’t understand. She could never understand. I was busier than I’d ever been in my entire life and my mind was overflowing with information I didn’t know how to handle—like how good Lukas was in bed.

  “Here we go,” I said as I pulled a yellow sheet of paper out of a file. I moved to the desk and laid it flat in front of Lisa. “The first twenty-four have already happened, so you can choose from the remaining ones left for the year.”

  Lisa pulled the paper closer and squinted down at it. “Toy drives, food drives, and Thanksgiving brunch at the soup kitchen. These are all so mundane. We need something colorful and vibrant. Something that marketing can really run with. Something like—” She broke off and grinned. “Here. This one.”

  Lisa spun the page around so it was facing me and pressed the tip of her red fingernail toward the bottom of the list.

  I leaned over the page and read the word. “The haunted house?”

  “Yes. The haunted house. Can’t you picture it? Lukas dressed up in a costume, scaring kids, working in the house, making people scream? Better yet, if someone can get a good scare out of him. If that doesn’t humanize him, I don’t know what will. And look, the funds go directly to a local homeless shelter. It’s the perfect event.”

  “It’s not an event, Lisa. It’s a fundraiser.”

  “Same, same.”

  I grimaced.

  Lisa popped up out of her chair. “Okay, you know what to do. Make it happen. I’m going to call Rebecca and Meredith and make sure the duo is there to photograph and interview. Oh, shit!”

  “What?”

  “It’s this weekend!”

  “Yes.”

  Lisa rushed to the door. “Call Lukas. Make sure you can get him there. I’ll handle the rest, okay?”

  “Um, okay, but what if he doesn’t want to go?” I found it hard to picture Lukas dressed up as anything but Lukas.

  Lisa grinned at me. “Ask him nicely. For you? He’ll go.”

  With that, my friend left me reeling in the truth of her words. If only she knew the full extent of what we’d done behind her back—and what I was still fantasizing about every night before I went to sleep.

  Chapter 25

  Lukas

  The tires bit into the gravel as I came to a slow stop in a parking spot in the middle of a field. I frowned and glanced at the GPS in my center console. This was it. This was the address Kayla had given me for the haunted house.

  Up ahead was a transport trailer. There was a line of people outside it waiting for their turn to go up to the window. It was hard to see from where I was, but it looked like that was where the haunted house ticket sales were. I put the car in park, turned it off, and stepped out.

  For once I’d used my foresight and opted for jeans, boots, and a leather jacket in favor of a suit. As I walked across the gravelly yard, I was thankful for that decision.

  The air had a chill to it. It smelled like hay and dirt and hot chocolate, which I realized was coming from the window of said trailer. Not only were they selling tickets, but they were selling hot chocolate, brewed coffee, and cider as well. Parents with children made up the bulk of the line but there were a
fair amount of teenagers too.

  Almost everyone was in costume.

  As I walked past the trailer and the line, I spotted vampires, clowns, werewolves, fortune tellers, fairies, kittens, dinosaurs, and ballerinas. I passed ninjas and mutant turtles and waved at a little girl dressed up like a ladybug. She promptly turned toward her father and hid behind his legs. If she was afraid to wave at me in jeans and a leather jacket, I hated to think how she’d handle the haunted house.

  I proceeded down a dirt path flanked by wheat fields on either side. I hadn’t been out to this particular country area before and it had taken me quite some time to find it on the GPS. Now that I was here, I could see why. It was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. The fields rolled on until they met darkness and the human eye could see no farther. Somewhere in the distance I thought I’d be able to see Seattle’s city lights, but that wasn’t the case. Fog hung low over the fields and made the air feel chilly and damp.

  I tucked my hands in my pockets and bunched my shoulders up to ward off the chill as a structure took shape up ahead of me.

  There it was. The haunted house.

  It materialized out of the night and fog like a specter, and as I drew closer, I could hear haunting music pouring out of it accompanied by the sounds of teenagers shrieking with horror and glee. Children screamed in earnest, fathers laughed, and mothers? Well, based on the crowd of women I saw near the exit I assumed a great deal of them had no interest in going in the haunted house and had left their families to their own devices.

  Kayla had told me to meet her in front of the house at seven in the evening. I was ten minutes early and I turned in a slow circle to peer around and see what else was around. There was nothing. I frowned.