Chapter 8 #2
“That doesn’t sound plausible. He’s a poser.
An empty suit. Well, khaki shorts and a polo shirt, in his case.
Why is he even running, and who in their right mind would back him?
” Deryn asked the question as Paloma lifted an eyebrow and cocked a hip.
She really should not be doing any of that if she expected Deryn to be half coherent.
Those facial features, the ones Deryn’s lips and fingertips had mapped all through that one night, were familiar, etched into her mind, into her skin… Paloma should not just…
Should not just…what? Exist? Jesus H, Deryn, get yourself under control!
Then, as she finally yanked her mind back to their conversation, the realization dawned.
“Damn, are you telling me that half the town is voting for a douchebag because he’s a local? And has a penis?”
“I’d rather not think about his penis, thank you very much, but yes, all of the above. A local man.”
Deryn grimaced.
“I can’t believe Crow’s Nest is this vapid.
This shallow. Surely, they have seen the platform you’re running on.
The improvements you’re planning to introduce for the elementary school, the homeownership program, the library renovations, and the tax credits for small businesses.
I’m not even talking about the Center for Survivors…
” Deryn trailed off as Paloma’s lips quirked in amusement.
Damn it, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?
“For someone who isn’t in the habit of reading the Caw, you’ve been keeping up well with my campaign.”
It wasn’t phrased as a question. Well, she had been on the island for weeks now.
She was bored in the elevator… No, that wasn’t true, but Deryn wasn’t about to confess to pretty much devouring Paloma’s campaign on social media the moment she left Reem and her crew and before she arrived here.
It wasn’t for the politics, that’s for sure.
But they did post gorgeous pictures of the woman.
No, Deryn would not confess to that. It was a bit superficial, even for her.
Still, she got the gist of her platform, in between eyefuls of long legs in Armani skirts.
“I mean, Victoria tends to talk in the kitchen…” She trailed off again, letting the obfuscation dissolve into the charged air.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Her aunt did talk, and she was a staunch supporter of the Allende campaign, now that Deryn thought back.
Deryn just didn’t pay any attention because, even this morning, the name Allende meant nothing to her.
What a strange world that was. A world where Deryn Crowhart didn’t know who Paloma Allende was.
Her heart thudded in her chest painfully—once, twice—as her eyes sought out the woman standing just a few feet away, looking expectantly at her.
Once amber met green, the beating of her heart quieted.
You know her. You know her now.
“Ah, well…” was all Paloma said, and Deryn waited in vain for something else. When nothing was forthcoming, she racked her brain for another opening. Perhaps reassurance was the way?
“I genuinely don’t believe you have anything to fear from him.”
Paloma, who was looking at her through her little there-there attempt, pursed her lips. Deryn winced.
“I don’t fear him, Ms. Crowhart. But I do need help.”
Deryn felt her mouth open a bit. Paloma smiled and leaned forward slightly, her warm fingers lifting Deryn’s chin.
The touch lingered just a second longer than Deryn felt was strictly necessary to simply snap her jaw shut.
Not that she was complaining. Nope. When the fingertips fell away, she missed them like air. And she felt branded, with fire. Again.
Paloma took a step back and turned, and Deryn felt she could breathe.
“I need a…fake girlfriend.”
“Well, I assumed as much. I also take it that the gigantic golden retriever puppy in your office came up with it? Since you seemed to be just as surprised as I was?”
“Yes. However, I had an advantage over you. I knew who you were.”
It was Deryn’s turn to say “Ah.” Then she followed it up with, “Well, you did use my name, so I figured as much…” She lowered her eyes, unable to give voice to the follow-up question that seemed to invite itself. Still, Paloma had enough mind-reading abilities. Probably.
“I knew who you were when I saw you at the fire, and I knew who you were when I approached you at the Rooster. I knew who you were from the start.”
Deryn shrugged, her shoulders moving rustily; her unease was hard to hide.
“I mean, I didn’t think to ask your name… You didn’t seem to want me to?”
Paloma’s smirk was taut around the edges.
“I did want anonymity. Still, it says a lot about this arrangement of ours.”
Deryn lifted her eyes. “It does?”
“Yes. It says you won’t care enough to make it more complicated. Your entire history is suitable for this very purpose.”
Paloma could’ve slapped her across the face, and Deryn would’ve found a way to crack a joke.
But this? This was something she had no words for.
This was something she needed time and maybe a bottle of tequila to begin digesting.
If she even could. The sheer depth to which those words had cut was quite inexplicable, because it was technically the truth, wasn’t it?
She was, always had been, free and… Free.
At times, she wondered why Fire was her element when Wind was so much better suited to her personality.
The weather vane… Didn’t Paloma use those very words?
Deryn was never volatile or angry, like fire.
But she never stayed, just like the wind.
It often made her think that, being a twin and a direct opposite to Seren, she was gifted Fire just to underscore their distinct natures.
Seren was Water, that was indisputable. Deryn as Fire never sat right.
She wanted to be a Wind Witch, and now, being pretty much accused of being one, she felt slighted like never before.
Still, Deryn forced a smile and nodded.
“So, you want a fake local girlfriend. I can do that. I do not, however, believe that you actually need me. Or anyone, for that matter.”
Deryn watched Paloma’s face undergo a myriad of expressions before settling on something completely neutral.
“Some might disagree with you. Some have.”
Deryn’s answer was shockingly angry.
“You’re not going to allow your ex-wife, who cheated on you, to tell you anything about yourself.”
Paloma’s smile was rueful.
“Ms. Alami has been telling tales out of school? In all of the twenty minutes you’ve been down there?”
Deryn became increasingly interested in the clearly Persian carpet on the polished floor.
“People talk, and I might’ve heard and seen the way that asshat treated you as I was coming in.
Those who can’t reach your level will try to humble you to bring you down to theirs.
I hate her guts, and I hope she keeps stumbling on rakes and hitting her stupid forehead.
” Deryn made the requisite gesture, mimicking the hit.
“Listen, that’s not important. As much as I’d love to be part of this charade, what’s stopping you from…
” Deryn gulped, wondering what the hell she was doing giving voice to these intrusive thoughts of hers.
But then the memories of their night together and that sense of recognition that had not left her since their eyes met over the fire would not let her stay silent.
She had to take a chance. She had to ask Paloma…
if maybe she’d actually consider doing this thing without the fake part?
What came out, however, was less decisive than what she had intended.
“What’s stopping you from actually finding a real girlfriend?”
Good one, Crowhart. So brave. So straightforward.
There was no point in berating herself. Deryn waited for Paloma to speak. When she did, it was still in that bland, neutral tone.
“I’ve been in love twice, Ms. Crowhart. And I lost twice.
Once, life took my love away when I trusted our happiness to be eternal.
The second time, my own wife took everything away when I trusted that she would keep her pants on.
So, you see, trusting again is not on my agenda.
Not anymore. One only has so much heart to break before there’s nothing left.
I’d prefer to keep my entanglements very brief—as ours was—and my relationships fake and for public eyes only—as ours will be now that you’ve signed the paperwork.
Still, if you want to back out, I won’t hold you against your will.
And I’m neither cruel nor stupid; you can work in my kitchens, seeing as how it benefits both you and the resort, regardless of the fake girlfriend bargain. ”
Deryn wanted to cry. Or scream. Howl like a wolf at the moon, the stars, the skies.
At everyone and everything. No, a dead first wife had clearly been a tragedy that left an immense mark.
And as for a cheating ex? Well, while she couldn’t fathom anyone stepping out on this woman, some people were clearly foolish. Paloma’s ex was just one such example.
She licked her dry lips, suddenly parched, uncomfortable in her own skin and in her surroundings.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Allende. And no, you won’t have to keep me against my will. I very much wish to stay, to help you out and be your fake girlfriend. A deal is a deal, and I will hold up my end of the bargain.”
This time, Paloma’s smile seemed tentative, a touch searching. Did she somehow glean something as she sliced Deryn in half? Deryn hoped she wasn’t that transparent.
“All right, then. Lachlan will send you the agenda of appearances. I have a few scheduled for this week, and the next is fully booked. I will be traveling to the mainland for meetings in the coming weeks. I don’t expect you to perform the role there.
I do, however, expect you to be discreet, Ms. Crowhart, in whatever pursuits you will endeavor while I am away. ”