“Ew, Kev. For the love of all that is holy, put on a shirt.”
He turned around and smirked at me. “You love it, and you know it.” He flexed his muscles.
“All that pasty whiteness? Thanks, but no thanks.” I couldn’t help but grin at our silliness. Kev was very nicely put together, but pasty white didn’t even begin to describe it. Not that I was one to talk. They could use the pair of us as emergency lighting in case of a blackout.
“You want some tea?” he asked, turning back to his task.
“Sure. Thanks. You’ll never believe what I just saw.” I described the girl who’d come out of the basement flat.
“I’m telling you,” said Kev, handing me a cup of tea, “that man is running an escort service. Either that or he is really fond of ladies of the night.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t look like a hooker.”
“Girl, please. In this neighborhood, do you expect them to wear fishnets and fuck me heels?”
He had a point.
“Now,” he said, leaning against the fridge and peering at me over the rim of his mug, “enough beating about the bush. Tell me everything. Was the play good? Was the lovely Adam marvelous? Did you get in his pants?” He waggled his brows, making me laugh.
‘The play was excellent. Adam was marvelous. And no, I did not.”
“Damn,” Kev said with feeling. He eyed me closely. “But something happened.”
“He kissed me.”
“Oh, you go, girl! Come on. Deets. Was it all sloppy tongues and manhandling? Chaste and brotherly? Did he shove you up against a wall and take you like a man?” He sighed dramatically, clearly in rapture over the thought.
“Uh, none of the above. I mean, tongues, yes. But not sloppy. It was...amazing.” I had no other words to describe it. “It was perfect.”
Kev’s eyes widened, his expression turning serious. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“But?” His eyes narrowed.
“But why, Kev? Why me? He’s gorgeous and famous and rich, and I’m...”
“Funny and clever and beautiful?”
I gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder. “Idiot. I should keep you around. You’re good for the ego.”
“I only speak the truth.”
I wished I could accept his truth, but I’d seen myself in the mirror too many times.
THE NEXT MORNING I staggered into the kitchen to find Kev hunched over his smartphone. He glanced up as I entered and stared at me with eyes like saucers.
“Come on,” I said grumpily, patting at my hair. I was pretty sure I had a rooster tail. “I don’t look that bad.” Okay, I did. But he didn’t need to stare.
I stumbled to the counter and touched the side of the kettle. Still hot enough. I dumped some instant coffee into a mug, sloshed in some hot water, added way too much sugar and cream, and gave it a good stir. I took a long swallow. Elixir of the gods. Okay, not really, but there was enough caffeine to get me started. I turned around to find Kev still eyeing me.
“Seriously, what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Uh. Um. Here.” He held out his phone to me.
I took it, glancing down at the screen. It was one of those websites dedicated to following celebrities around and inspecting their lives in minute detail to the point of going through their garbage or even making shit up. It took me a moment to recognize what I was looking at.
“Holy shit.” I stared at the image now burned onto my retinas for eternity. “Oh, God, no no no. Tell me this isn’t all over the web.”
“Define ‘all over.’”
“Shit shit shit.”
“No kidding. Sweet baby Jesus, girl. You can’t believe how jealous I am.” He held out his hand for the phone, but I couldn’t stop staring. “At least they got your good side.”
He was right. They had. Not that it mattered. The last thing, the very last thing, I needed right now was a picture of me kissing Adam Wentworth plastered all over the internet. And no doubt the morning rags, too. I could just imagine what this morning’s commute would have been like. Thank God it was Saturday. “Hopefully by Monday it will all blow over. Celebrities are always kissing random chicks, right?”
“Sure.” Kev gave me a weak smile. “Just stay off social media, okay, luv?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
He swallowed. “Just trust me, all right?”
“Kev, what are they saying?”
“Listen, sweetie, they’re nothing, right? Just a bunch of jealous trolls with nothing better to do. Sod them.”
Dread engulfed me with sticky tendrils. “Show me, Kev. I’ll just look anyway.”
With a deep sigh, he took the phone from me and fiddled around with it. After a moment he handed it back, his face a complete blank. The minute I looked at the Twitter feed, I wished I hadn’t. I felt sick to my stomach.
Fat cow. She should put a paper bag over her head.
Does she actually think she’s good enough for him?
Gross!!!!!
And my personal favorite:
What a fucking loser. She should die so the rest of us don’t have to look at her. Somebody kill the bitch or I will.
The things complete strangers were saying about me, the hatred, the ugliness was beyond shocking. I’d heard of this happening to other people, but never to anyone I knew. We were so ordinary. Not important enough. But thanks to that photo of Adam and me kissing, apparently I was now fair game for the trolls of the world, and they were out in full force. The feed was nothing but increasingly nasty insults about everything from my weight to my hair color to my supposed intelligence or lack thereof. Posts calling me a slut and worse. Even death threats. I was so stunned, I could barely breathe. It was like waking up to find out your nightmare is real.
“Oh my God, Kev.” I could barely choke out the words past the thickness in my throat. My hand shook so hard, I nearly dropped Kev’s phone.
He snatched it from me. “Maybe next time you’ll listen when I tell you not to look.” He sighed and stood up to wrap his arms around me. His T-shirt was soft under my cheek, his heartbeat soothing. “Aw, sweetie, ignore those assholes. They don’t know you. They don’t know Adam. They’re just insecure, uneducated, jealous, ugly people who can only get their kicks from tearing others down.”
“Yeah, but some of them are saying I should die. Threatening to kill me.” I glanced up at him, truly afraid for the first time.
His face hardened. “Believe me, we’ll be reporting those to the police, not that they’ll do anything. Fortunately no one seems to have figured out who you are yet. If we’re lucky they won’t. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”
But it wouldn’t be fine. How could it? Adam was going to wake up and see that picture of him, of us, plastered all over. He’d see what everyone was saying about us and he’d realize what a mistake he’d made. Then he’d dump me. No doubt publicly so the world would know he had better taste than to date someone like me. If I was lucky, all those death-threat people would move on to the next target and leave me alone to wallow in my misery.
Chapter 12
I WAS STILL IN MY PAJAMAS, curled up on the couch drinking my third cup of coffee, liberally dosed with cream and sugar, when the phone rang. It was Adam. I stared at the screen until the phone quit ringing, sick dread roiling in my stomach. I wanted to avoid this as long as possible, that moment when Adam figured out the two of us didn't belong together. It was stupid that it hurt so much. We barely knew each other. I shouldn’t be this attached.
The phone chimed, letting me know I had a voice mail. With trembling hands, I pressed play, and Adam’s smooth voice poured out of the speaker.
“Kate, please call me. I need to talk to you.” His tone was pleading. Not angry. Not like someone on the verge of breaking up with me. “Listen, I have to go out of town to film this damn television program. I won’t be back for a few days, but please, pleas
e call me.”
The call ended and a tinny voice asked if I wanted to call the person back. I couldn’t. Not yet. So I hung up and dropped the phone in my lap.
“All right, this has gone far enough.”
Kev loomed over me. “Huh?” Oh, that was intelligent.
“Get your arse in the shower and then get on a clean set of clothes. We’re going to the spa.”
The spa? Oh, right. It was Chloe’s spa day.
“I don’t feel like going. You go ahead.”
“Oh, no you don’t, sister.” Kev grabbed my arm and yanked me off the sofa, sloshing coffee on my pajamas. My phone hit the carpet with a dull thump. “I’ve been wanting a good girls’ day out, and I’m not letting you spoil it. Now go.” He gave me a shove in the general direction of my room.
“My phone.”
“Why? So you can stare at it waiting for a call you’re not going to answer anyway? I think not.” He snatched it off the floor. “I’ll just keep it for you. You can have it back after spa day.”
I made a face at him, but I did as he said. Maybe I could use some pampering.
AQUA VITAE WAS ONE of those impossibly upscale places where all the staff wears pristine white, the floors are marble so polished you can see your pores, and the water comes in fancy shaped glass bottles instead of the usual plastic. Not quite the sort of spa I was used to, but the air was redolent with honeysuckle, and the hushed music was soothing to my jangled nerves.
“Isn’t this amazing?” Chloe asked as we settled on the plush seats in the waiting room. A staff member appeared out of nowhere to whisk away our handbags and jackets. Another glided into the room to pass out a round of champagne before disappearing.
“Now, this is what I’m talking about,” Kev said, stroking the leather seats. “Sweetie, you’ve got taste.” He beamed at Chloe as if she were his new BFF.
“This is fantastic. I didn’t even know it was here, and I’ve lived in Notting Hill all my life.” Sophie looked as awestruck as I felt. Guess she didn’t get out of the coffee house much.
“One of my work colleagues told me about it,” Chloe said, taking a sip of champagne and letting out a sigh. “It seemed like the perfect place for a long overdue girls’ day out.”
“I, for one, think it was a stroke of genius.” Deb beamed. “To girls’ day out!” She raised her glass. The rest of us joined in, laughing as our worries melted off and into the marble floor.
The afternoon passed in a blur of head massages, facials, and aromatherapy. We were sitting together getting pedicures and sipping more champagne when somebody, probably Chloe, suggested we tell our worst dating stories. I didn’t know if she was trying to make me feel better or if she was genuinely interested.
“I don’t have time to date,” Sophie said with a sigh, slouching down in her chair. “When I’m not busy at the shop, I’m exhausted. I don’t have time to go looking for a man.”
“What about online dating?” Deb suggested.
“Yeah, ’cause it’s worked out so well for me,” I said dryly.
Sophie laughed. “Exactly. I just don’t have the energy. The last time I was on a date was...”—she squinted at the ceiling as though a number would be magically painted across it—“three years ago.”
“Girl, that just ain’t right,” Chloe said.
“Oh, pick me,” Kev practically shouted, waving his hand wildly in the air. His pedicurist scowled at him, and he settled down.
“All right, Kev. Wow us.” She grinned.
“So, this was about a year ago, before I knew any of you.” He glanced at each of us as if to let us in on a special adventure. “I was at this gay bar in Soho with a couple of friends. Dancing. Drinking. That sort of thing, right?”
We all nodded eagerly.
“Go on,” Sophie drawled. “I need to live vicariously through somebody.”
“Well, I was at the bar getting a drink and in walked the most gorgeous man you have ever laid eyes on.”
“More gorgeous than Adam Wentworth?” Deb asked. I winced but didn’t say anything.
Kev glanced at me. “Sorry, sweetie, but yes. Oh, yes. Six foot nothing of Greek god manliness. An arse you could bounce a coin off.” He practically licked his lips at the memory.
“What happened?” Chloe prompted.
“I went right up and introduced myself.” Of course he would. Kev didn’t have a shy bone in his body. I wouldn’t mind being more like him. “His name was Sven, can you believe? I thought he was joking, but it really was. And he was from Sweden.”
“I thought you said he was a Greek god, not a Norse one.”
“Six of one, half dozen of the other, really. Who cares?” Kev shrugged. “Greek or Norse, the man was dreamy. In any case, we danced the night away, drank far too much, and let’s just say I left his hotel room the next morning a very happy man.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a tragedy to me,” Sophie mumbled over the rim of her glass.
“I’m getting there. A couple months go by, right? He visits London, we have a great time. He talks about the future. Going on holiday together. But when I suggest visiting him, he’s always got an excuse. So....”
Shit. I could see where this was going.
“...I decided to get on a plane and go see the big stud. He might be put out at first, but I figured I could change his mind.” He winked, and we all laughed. Dead certain we knew what Kev had in mind. “I knock on the door, and this woman answers. Pretty, dark hair. I figure she’s the housekeeper.”
“Let me guess,” Deb said. “She was his wife.”
“Aw, you spoiled it,” Kev said with a pout.
“That had to have sucked,” I said. “What’d you do?”
“I told her I was a work colleague from London, and I’d lost his phone number so thought I’d drop in. She thought it was weird, but she kindly took a message. She was very sweet.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Chloe asked.
His face grew grim. “It’s not up to me to out someone else. Even if he is a lying rat bastard. Besides, his wife was so lovely, I couldn’t hurt her that way.” He shrugged. “Eventually she’ll figure it out. Or she won’t. Either way, it’s their life, and I’m not messing with it.”
“What about him?” I asked. “Did you confront him?”
Kev grinned evilly. “Even better. The next time he came to London, he apologized up and down. Begged to see me. I agreed to meet him at his hotel. Managed to get him naked and tied to the bed. Then I left him.”
Four sets of eyes widened, including mine. “Holy crap, Kev,” I gasped. “It’s a wonder you didn’t get arrested.”
“Naw. I knew he’d never report it. There was no way he’d risk his wife finding out. Plus it was already too embarrassing. Filing a police report... can you imagine?” He downed the last of his champagne. “Although there was this one time a cop showed up on my doorstep....”
WHEN WE GOT HOME FROM the spa that evening, Kev finally let me have my phone. Adam had called three times, each time more increasingly frantic. I felt guilty. I should have called him back.
The buzzer to the front door sounded. “I’ll get it,” Kev shouted.
I sank down on the couch. The day had been wonderful, but now we were home and reality was closing in again. I felt tired and sick and stressed out.
“Kate.” Kev popped his head in the living room. “You have a visitor.” He stepped back so I could see who was standing behind him.
“Adam?”
"Kate, oh my God, are you all right?" His words came out in a rush, that plummy British accent sending shivers down my spine even as my heart plummeted to somewhere in the vicinity of my bare feet. I stood up as he stepped into the room.
“I thought you were going to be gone a few days.”
“I was. I rescheduled the shoot.”
"I guess you saw Twitter this morning," I said, seconds away from tears. My throat felt thick and tight, and dread was a heavy stone in my stomach.
"I did. And Kate, I'm so sorry," he said. He walked across the room and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against him. "I can't apologize enough."
I pulled back a bit and stared at him for a moment, baffled. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. This is my fault." My fault for going out with him in the first place. I had no business dating a man like Adam. He must have been crazy to ask me out. Or desperate.
"How was this your fault?" Now it was his turn to be baffled. He cupped my cheek in his hand. "You had nothing to do with this, Kate. You've done nothing wrong. Those assholes... I should have warned you. I should've realized. I know you're not used to this bollocks. It was just...." He paused. "I'd hoped they wouldn't catch on so fast."
I felt sick. So I was right. He hadn't wanted anyone to know about us. He was embarrassed. Of me. No surprise there. Most men would be embarrassed to date a fat girl. Even one who was really nice and smart and had a pretty face.
I pulled away and walked over to the window. The street outside was dark and quiet. “Oh.” There was a hollowness to my voice.
"What’s wrong?” He sounded confused, but I didn’t turn around.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said struggling to hold back the tears that burned my eyes. "If they see you here, things will get worse. You should go. Tell them we’re just friends. Tell them the kiss was a brotherly one. They'll believe it."
He sputtered with laughter, whirling me around to face him. "Kate, have you seen all of the pictures? There is no way anyone's going to buy that was a brotherly kiss. And I don't want them to." His voice was firm, his green eyes intense as he gazed down at me.
I felt a little flutter in my belly. I laid my hands on his biceps, squeezing gently. Good grief, the boy had some nice muscles. "But they hate me, Adam. If they know that you... wanted to do that, it'll get worse. And maybe they will start saying horrible things about you. What about your career?"
"Don't worry about it. That’s what PR people are for. It's going to be fine."
I wished I could believe him, but I knew what social media was like. Next thing I knew, I'd be a hot topic on The View, and a bunch of women I'd never met would be scrutinizing every move I made right down to the color of my shoes. This wasn't going to end well. At least not for me. Adam could still salvage this. "Adam, I think we need to stop seeing each other." My heart felt like a hot poker had been jabbed through it. How could this hurt so much?
The Art of Kissing Frogs Page 13