Ryan and Max had carefully staged the pictures, just as they’d carefully staged this lunch. We were meeting in one of the busier restaurants in downtown. There were movie executives, musicians and movie stars, from the A-list on down. There were people there to see and be seen.
Carly liked coming here to see. She loved sitting around and watching people. She’d spent more than a few afternoons telling me stories that I still didn’t entirely believe. She only came here to be seen when Max or Ryan told her it was time, like today. No matter why she came here, she loved the food. She told me more than once that she didn’t waste her time going to a restaurant where the food sucked, although she said that more than a few people did. That, I didn’t get.
She was right though. The food here was good. The booze was even better, and I desperately needed a drink as I let Carly nudge me closer to a seat.
My head was still spinning.
There had been cameras outside when the Range Rover came to a stop. Ryan, Ace and a temp named Mike were already there, waiting for us. Even though this was about the growing relationship between me and Carly, I still had an earbud in and I heard everyone check in. Ryan was up front, Ace in the back, and Mike stayed with the second vehicle.
Now, as Carly and I sat down, Cameo and Dave were both near the bar less than two dozen feet away. This place was considered low-risk security-wise, but with what we were doing, we wanted to have people available, just in case. No media was allowed inside and the restaurant was damn good at maintaining that rule. We’d witnessed them hustle would-be rule breakers out more than once. Outside was a different story.
Even though inside was safe, out of habit, I skimmed the interior even as my mind tried to come to terms with what had happened outside.
Bobby! Bobby Cantrell! Are you and Carly Prince having an affair? What would the family of the man you killed think about this–?
“Well?”
Carly none too subtly jabbed me with her elbow and I looked up as a couple was seated at the next table over. The maître d walked stiffly away without looking at either party. No media was allowed...except when it was pre-arranged and tightly controlled.
The gorgeous redhead at the table next to ours looked nothing like the sharp-featured brunette who ran the biggest entertainment blog online, but those cheekbones were pretty much unmistakable. They should be. She’d paid enough for them. She casually placed her purse on the table, pointed it toward us, and then focused on her companion.
Max lifted his eyebrow the faintest bit and I took that to mean it was time.
“I’m still waiting for an explanation.”
He pushed his phone across the table toward me.
The image on display showed me with my back up against the car, one hand low on Carly’s hip, while the other gripped her back. She had her hands fisted on my chest and we looked pretty much like nothing else mattered.
So, that was what we looked like together.
“Ah...” I looked over at Carly. I knew Max already knew what was happening, so I felt sort of stupid telling him what he already knew.
She pressed her lips together, and I realized I wasn’t going to get any help from her. I looked back at Max and he raised an eyebrow.
I gave him a sheepish smile. “Oops?”
A smile jerked at his lips, but he got it under control quickly. “Oops?” he repeated. “That’s the best you can do? Just how long have you two been involved?”
Carly pursed her lips. “Do we count the six months we were keeping it cool because Ryan and Jake asked us to?”
Max made a show of dragging his hands down his face. “Six months?”
“We haven’t been involved for six months,” I said, shrugging. “Not really.”
He perked up a little.
“Well. We had a thing,” Carly said. She smiled a little sadly as some truth came into the story. “Then, after Jake fell, he asked Bobby to wait a while. He figured it wasn’t the best time for me to get involved with anybody. So Bobby waited. Now?”
She looked over at me, and the moment our eyes met, it was clear to me that I’d never stood a chance.
She possessed me, body, mind and soul.
***
“Did you mean it?”
It had been two weeks to the day since I said those three words to Carly, and this was the first time she’d brought it up. I hadn’t said anything about it, but I had a good reason. Sometimes, I was chickenshit.
But I couldn’t avoid it now.
I didn’t even have to ask what she meant.
Carly lay with her head on my chest, staring up at me. Her skin was still slick with sweat and so was mine. My heart hadn’t even come close to returning to normal, and I was happy to say neither had hers. I could feel it beating in a mad rhythm as she continued to watch me with calm eyes.
Did she feel calm?
I sure as hell didn’t.
“If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have said it.” It would’ve been easier to tell her that if I’d been staring up at the ceiling when I said it, but I wasn’t a complete coward.
“When?”
I didn’t pretend to not understand that either, but that was an easier one to answer. A stupid kind of smile started to spread across my face.
“I think it might’ve started when you hit me in the head with that damn purse of yours and yelled at me. You almost got run over by a car, but were you worried about that? No. You were too busy being put out because I had the nerve to get in your way.”
She sniffed, but then a grin spread out across her face. “I couldn’t believe you had the nerve to yell at me and call me stupid. Nobody’s ever yelled at me.”
“You probably thought I was an idiot,” I said.
“No.” Her voice softened. “I liked it. People never take the time to get to know me for me. They just decide on who they think I am, who they want me to be, based on what they think they know about me. You didn’t do that.”
I slid my hands down her back and caught her hips, tugging her close. “Who everyone else says you are doesn’t matter to me. It never has.”
“I know.” She leaned up and kissed me lightly. “I might have loved you for that alone, Bobby. But then you had to go and be so wonderful. I had no choice but to fall in love with you, you know.”
Chapter 17
Ever since that ‘oops’ bit of mine, the media had been on my ass like fleas on a dog. The stories ranged from laughable to lousy, from stupid to sickening, and everything in between. There had been days when it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed and face the people I worked with, the woman I love, hell, strangers on the street.
Then there was the whole surreal aspect of things, like I’d fallen through some weird sci-fi thing and ended up in an alternate reality or something.
Like the one day I’d gone to a local gym. Carly had a great one, but she didn’t have a rock wall and that was one thing I’d discovered I loved – rock climbing. I’d just been coming out of the gym, and these two girls, probably barely out of high school, had come up to me. The blonde had been all giggly and red-faced as she asked if I’d give her and her friend an autograph. I’d been asked before, something I knew I’d never get used to.
But then they’d asked me, What’s it like to kill somebody? What’s it like...being in prison?
I’d stopped, halfway through the scrawl of my name. If I’d been smart, I would have just finished up, ignored the questions and gone on. If I’d noticed the paps hanging around, I would have. But it hadn’t been until after that I’d noticed them at all.
“You serious?” I’d asked, staring at the girl who asked.
She looked like she’d been trying to make herself out as some sort of street tough, a hoop through her right nostril, the start of what might be a tattoo sleeve on her right arm.