Almost Real (Almost Ever After), page 20
“What?”
“The publicity.”
“That’s part of my life. I’ve made my mistakes—too many to count—but they’re mine. No sense in starting over and living a total lie, even if I could make it happen.” I shrug, not wanting to get into this when we’re surrounded by the publicity on all sides.
The second we dock on the island and walk into town, we’ll be swarmed with attention. Bainbridge is a quiet place with a small-town vibe and basically the same appetite for any whiff of gossip. The summer crowds also tend to be larger and livelier.
“But wouldn’t it be easier? You get no privacy, Brady.”
“That’s what I asked for when I fired up my social media machine. Part passion project and another part trying to reinvent myself. Even when it works, you still pay the price, trading some shitty comments and unwanted attention for awareness that can make a real difference in everything you care about.”
I can practically feel her skepticism rising, but she doesn’t respond.
“We’re nearly there. Ready?” I say instead, nodding at the ferry terminal coming into view. A few lazy harbor seals lounge on one of the nearby buoys.
“No. I’d rather watch the seals and ride back and forth.”
“You’ll do fine. You’re with me, baby girl.”
“God, you—” Her voice chokes off as she leans against me, her skin so hot.
“What?”
“You have to stop doing that. And fine? That’s easy for you to say,” she grumbles, but when the ferry docks and we step onto the long walkway gate to deboard, there’s a smile on her face.
A natural one.
“Just pretend it’s a normal day out of the city. I come here all the time, and I still love it,” I say. “Wave at the friendly people when you catch them staring.”
It’s not a long walk through the small terminal and up the hilly sidewalks into town, walking hand in hand.
The sun is out, and I spot a few obvious gawkers along the shaded streets, already trying to film us.
By tonight, their content will be everywhere.
Like always when there’s a performance to put on, I slip back into my show suit, smiling and pressing hands with a few folks who do a double take as we pass.
Beside me, Lena relaxes slowly.
On the ferry, it was easy to forget what we were here for, but the attention we pull as we head down the main stretch of town acts as a constant reminder.
I wave to a group passing by.
“Now I know how it feels being royalty. So ridiculous.” She sighs.
“Never spent too much time with royals, and nobody here would recognize them.” I peer through the window of a bookstore as we pass. “Do you want to stop and browse? It’s a nice, quiet break in here.”
“What, to buy something?” She stops beside me, hand tucked in my arm.
“I told you it’s just a day trip. So, yeah, if you feel like picking up a new book or some touristy gimmick, why the hell not? Let’s look natural.”
She huffs, but a little more of her tension fades as she glances up at me, her big brown eyes softening.
“I don’t do touristy. Sorry. There’s a reason I avoid the Seattle waterfront like a plague.”
“Ice cream, then?” I nod at a small place a few more stores down, which sells the good stuff. “I know you’ve got high standards from your mom’s place and all. Never gets old to feed your sweet tooth. Also, it’s good for the local economy.”
“Well . . .” She blinks, her lips pursing as she mulls it over. “The chocolate cherry flavor sounds interesting.”
“Perfect.” I steer us toward the store, sidestepping two people who snap quick pictures of us.
Lena’s shoulders tighten, but to my surprise, she offers them a goofy smile and a wave.
“There she is. You’ll be a natural in no time,” I say.
“And you’ll drag me into an early grave,” she grumbles.
“With that smile? Like hell. If you’re not careful, you might start having a good time, woman.” I lean in to kiss her cheek as we stand in the shade of the awning, taking our place in the long midday line. “No one’s going to look at us and think this is new.”
“You think?” She examines our clasped hands like she’s just realized we’re still linking them. “Everything feels new. I can’t stop feeling jittery.”
It’s not like her to be intimidated.
“I saw you face down your ex,” I say. “Even though you were scared for your life. That proves you’re made of stronger stuff than you think.”
“The cameras are scarier,” she lies.
“The cameras just want what they can’t see—a fairy tale. That’s not so bad. They’re in the mood for a happy story or two. We just have to serve them like this ice cream shop dishing up scoops.”
She fires a glare at me, but it has no bite. “I can’t believe you’re such a romantic. How does that happen when you’re so . . . so you?”
“The same way you misjudged me.”
She laughs and allows me to lead her into the store. Although this is a show for the general public, I want her to relax—for her sake and for our watchful eyes.
I ignore the phones pointed in our direction as we decide on our order, taking our sweet time to taste test a few more types with the little wooden spoons they offer.
Soon, we step back into the summer sunshine with our cones, heading up the street.
“I don’t know how you stand it. Even the ice cream can’t take the edge off,” she whispers, deliberately not looking at my face.
“You get used to it.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I hope I never do. Is this what it’s like every time you go anywhere in Seattle?”
I check my watch. Just a little while longer.
“Not every time. Sometimes, we make sure a place is clear first. Or hire out a venue for true privacy, that sort of thing.”
She blinks in surprise. “A venue? What, like a whole restaurant?”
“Once in a blue moon. My father’s more prone to pulling that shit than me. He’s more allergic to people than ever since his—his condition.”
Especially so he can chew me out at will without anyone else listening.
She notices how I stumble at the end. I’m also glad she takes the hint on my face not to dig.
“NDAs go far too. Always important for our long-term relationships,” I say.
“Like the one you made me sign.”
I nod as I take a long lick of my toffee-flavored ice cream. “It’s for your own good as much as mine.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
I find her hand with mine again and link our fingers with ease.
When we pass an older lady not even trying to hide her recording, Lena actually waves and makes a wild face.
“Do it again. Have fun with it.”
“Let’s not get carried away now.”
“Perish the thought.” I use our joint hands to check my smartwatch again. “I’ve arranged a ride to meet us up here by the church in about a minute.”
“A car?” She glances around like she expects it to come bursting out from between the buildings, barreling toward us. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? Luis has been here since morning. He’s going to take us to the nature preserve.”
“Nature preserve?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Bainbridge before.”
“I haven’t, actually. Not since I was old enough to remember it.”
Damn, this girl needs to get out.
I bite back the words that it’s only a thirtyish minute ferry ride away. I don’t need to remind myself that our worlds are very different.
“One last smile for the cameras, and we’re good,” I say, grinning at two young girls who are staring at us. “Look like we’re in love.”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”
Neither have I. My blood heats every time I touch her, pulsing pure hellfire into my dick.
The hardest part about taking a day trip with her is fighting hours of blinding hard-ons.
Right on cue, Luis shows up in a black sedan with its windows tinted.
“Right on time. The man’s never been late in his life,” I say, oddly relieved to leave the people staring at us behind.
This is nothing new. It’s just my life.
The mindless gawking, the glaring attention, the whispers, the laughter, the sneers, the cruelty, and occasionally even the autographs and spontaneous marriage proposals—it’s all part of the fame and infamy I inherited.
But today, it’s not the kind of life I want.
Luis gets out, sunglasses fused in place like he’s a model secret service agent.
“Miss Joly,” he says, opening the door for her.
She glances at me, briefly uncertain, before smiling at him and sliding in. I join her in the back seat.
“So, this is your idea of a casual day out? Having your assistant hanging around?” she teases.
“Nah, Luis won’t be joining us later. It’s convenient to have him here to keep me updated.”
And aware, I don’t add. My media errors could easily multiply without his second set of very sharp eyes.
“Don’t worry about me, Miss Joly,” Luis says, adjusting the rearview mirror. “I have a kind boss who allows me a couple hours of downtime, and this week it’s on Bainbridge in the summer.”
“A few hours?” Lena turns her horrified eyes to me. “Brady, you—”
“He’s kidding.” I scowl at Luis’s grin. “Drive on, my man.”
“Kidding?”
“He has working hours and revolving duties just like every other person ever hired for this role.” I roll my eyes at Luis’s chuckle as we pull away, winding through the lush green overgrowth to the northern side of the island. “I can’t believe you were ready to believe him.”
“Eat the rich. I’m on team driver,” she says firmly.
Luis mutters something in Spanish, his dark eyes lighting up in a grin.
“I like her,” he says.
“Just get us there before I fire you.” I lean back in the seat as Luis laughs, shoulders shaking.
“You like me too much for that, boss.”
Unfortunately, true.
It doesn’t take long to arrive, and I help Lena out of the car before Luis can say another biting word.
“Where are the cameras this time? Will the crowds be bigger here?” she asks as we head down the path.
As always, the preserve looks divine, shrouded in endless rows of trees and snatches of vibrant purple flowers. The gardeners must be some of the best on the West Coast.
Above us, the old white estate house sits looking over the Puget Sound.
I direct Lena down the meadow trail, through the maze of bright-white and supple pink flowers.
I’ve been here enough times over the years to know where I’m going without a map.
“No cameras,” I say.
“Huh?” She stops and looks around like she’s expecting someone to jump out at us and fling their phone at her face. “I thought we’d be at it all day?”
“Not here.”
“. . . But it’s a public place and it’s a nice day. It can’t be that deserted. How can you be so sure?”
“Because I reserved the place for us, Lena. Remember when I told you I do that sometimes?”
“You . . . what?” She stops walking, her eyes dancing. There’s something incredibly satisfying about the naked shock on her face. “What do you mean by reserved it? The whole park? Jesus.”
“Only for a couple hours. Plenty of time to explore and relax.”
“But why?” She’s flabbergasted.
“Why not? It’s summer, and from what I’ve gathered, you don’t get much time to yourself outside work. I want my girl to stop and smell the flowers. Literally.” I shrug, threading my fingers through hers and kissing her hand. That’s all impulse. I don’t give a single, solitary shit if there’s no one around to see it. “Consider it a reward for putting up with everything in town—and with me.”
“But isn’t it expensive?”
“Tremendously. Luis made the arrangements. They normally just close down the entire preserve for weddings.”
“Holy shit, are you crazy?”
“Shhh, you’re disturbing the birds.” I bite back a laugh at the shock on her face. “Just enjoy it, Lena. I wanted to be here with you, so I splurged for a few hours in paradise. You smell that?” I make a big show of filling my lungs until my chest puffs out. “It’s gorgeous out here.”
“I—”
“Come on, I’ll show you around.” With her hand in mine, I walk her over the narrow path winding toward the bird marsh. “Check out the birds and keep quiet.”
She doesn’t need much encouragement, drinking in the atmosphere in awed silence. Friendly birdsong floats over us, even if we don’t see anything more exciting than a heron and a couple small hummingbirds flitting around.
I haven’t been here for over a year. Never with a woman worth closing the place down. With no one else around, there’s another layer to the majesty, the vibrant wonder surrounding us with every breath.
She’s the whole reason we’re experiencing any of this now.
Without her, I never would’ve done this. Likely wouldn’t even be here.
We wind up a smaller path snaking off the wider one to the rhododendron maze—an absolute riot of blooming pink and white flowers.
“It’s impressive. Like walking through one of those immersive art things, except real,” she says after a long moment.
“Yeah, immersive.” I don’t take my eyes off her for a single second.
I know how bad that sounds.
I know how boned I am, watching her like she’s the prettiest thing here.
I also know I don’t give a damn.
She looks at me as my phone buzzes, though, and I take a quick look.
There’s an email from Luis—no matter what he said earlier, he doesn’t really do time off when he’s on the clock. He’s been working from the car while we’ve been wandering through our own secret conservatory.
The document attached to the email looks enormous.
I can’t resist opening it and quickly scrolling through as we walk, skimming pages and pages of what looks like some very sketchy history regarding Harry Jay’s business dealings.
Fucking checkmate.
“Brady?” Lena stops and looks at me. “What’s so important?”
I blank my expression and swipe away the PDF. “Just thinking we should do a selfie. It’ll be great timing to post it when we’re on our way back, after the snapshots in Bainbridge start making the rounds.”
“A selfie? Oh, you’re serious?”
“It won’t kill you, will it?” I smile, opening my camera app.
There’s no sense in letting Harry goddamned Jay rot my brain and ruin this. Plenty of time for that later. And for charting ways to send him to hell.
“My hair’s a mess. That wind on the ferry did terrible things,” she complains, but when I turn the screen to us, she doesn’t try to hide.
That’s the girl I tell myself I’m not fucking falling for. Bold and determined to push through life.
Just as I’m about to take the photo, my last thread of control snaps.
I lean in.
I kiss her hard, drawing a gasp from her lungs.
One for me, one for the camera—Instagram will love it—and then another for me.
Tongues flowering, all fire, sticky as hell.
I am obsessed.
And I bring her closer, chasing away any question about what was on my phone with my mouth.
Then I forget about her twisted ex, too, because I’m enjoying her that much.
She kisses me back slowly, sensually, her slim arms winding around my neck and her nails digging at my collar.
When I break away, her eyes are amber stars in daylight.
“That was way more than your fans needed,” she whispers.
“Hell yes, it was. No regrets.” I kiss her again before she can pull away. “But they’ll eat it up just the same, I promise. Just don’t tell me I’m the only one to blame.”
Her face heats scarlet. She doesn’t deny it, because she can’t.
The sparkle in her eyes tells me I’m not the only one struck with this madness.
Shit, shit.
She’s falling, hard and fast.
I can feel our little no-strings agreement ripping apart, and it hasn’t been a solid month.
How do I convince myself this just make-believe?
How can I ever stop my clumsy ass from trampling her heart?
XVII
Puppy Love
(Lena)
I am scared.
Over the next week, everything snaps into place like a well-oiled hinge.
Any other time, I’d be tempted to think this life is too good to be true.
Call it cynical, but living taught me to be.
But with Brady, I don’t have the heart to be all stone and thorns. Not when he’s painfully sweet, going out of his way to make sure everything is as easy for me as possible.
Not when there’s Ezzie and Pawsome Hearts and the rest of my life to plan.
She’s approved of my financials and even agreed to help me interview a new vet doctor looking to buy in and partner up.
Everything is going the way it should, and that’s the problem.
Even Harry hasn’t shown his ugly, sneering face since Brady stepped in and ejected him from my property.
My pride hates that I needed a big, strong man to chase away my nightmare, but my inner princess adores the freedom. Without Brady charging in, I’d have a ten-ton boulder pressing down on my neck and nowhere else to turn.
“There is something unusual,” Dr. Ezzie says as we walk to the boarding building together.
“Unusual how?” Instead of tensing up like usual with doubt, I just glance at her, waiting patiently.
“A letter.” She waves a hand and shakes her head. “It’s probably nothing, this notice about a plumber who didn’t file his permit paperwork right back when we had a pipe replaced. I think it was three years ago.”
“Three years?” I whistle. “Doesn’t this city have anything better to do?”
