SIXTEEN
UNFORTUNATELY, SHE DIDN’T see Struan. Not after dinner or the next day at work. Withdrawal made her twitchy. His lure tempted her in like a siren to the shore. Going without him wasn’t part of the deal. Maybe she should’ve been more explicit about that. Except she hadn’t known how hard it would be to be without him until enduring the anguish.
Oh, and guess what lay ahead that night? Another date with Roman. Yep, another one!
Okay, maybe if she’d thought about it, she’d have figured being fake engaged meant going out on dates with the pseudo fiancé. But every night? Seriously? Every single night? No reprieve? None at all?
The dressing up and fancy perfumes might mean a little more if she were looking forward to the evening ahead. That night it was some kind of industry party, she didn’t know more than that. Mieux recited details, but she hadn’t been listening. It truly didn’t matter.
She put on the clothes, the jewels, the plastic smile, and would follow through on her promise. Whey put it the right way. Industry standard doesn’t matter. A man has integrity or he doesn’t. That went for wo man too.
Pep talk, come on. Another night with Roman. She could do this, smile, listen, react appropriately. Note that: appropriately, not honestly.
Though it hadn’t been the point of the exercise, living as Roman’s other half was a crash course in Hollywood etiquette. The truth, not the facade. A valuable education she likely wouldn’t have got any other way, not so quickly. By the end of the week, she’d be a pro.
Descending the stairs to the foyer, her new heels hadn’t been broken in and pinched at the back of her ankle. Hopefully this would be a fun night that wouldn’t involve much standing around. These patent leather beauties were at least an inch or two higher than she’d worn thus far. Suppose it was something that the shoes gave her a focus beyond the man she desperately wanted to ignore.
Alone, again, she opened the large front door, went outside, and stopped. The limo was parked in the same position as the previous night. Except this time there was a man next to it. Not the driver, nor the man she expected.
“You’re not Roman,” she said to her addiction.
He exhaled a laugh. “That a problem?”
The smirk on his face betrayed he already knew the answer.
Glee was instant. And the pain in her foot? Forgotten in a heartbeat.
Hurrying to him, just like that, her attitude flipped and excitement for date night flourished.
“Get down here.”
With a quick tug on his lapel, she forced him to stoop and kiss her.
Quick to withdraw, he showed more control than she could boast. “Better keep me cool or we’ll be going upstairs not out.”
She’d be okay with that. Too forward? After all the effort she’d put into getting ready—who was she kidding? She’d strip naked for him in a heartbeat. Right there in the driveway if he demanded it. Oh, she wished he’d demand it.
He opened the car door and with the union of their hands, helped her into it.
“This is a treat,” she said as he joined her and they got underway. “Are you my reward for good behavior?” He smiled, but the discomfort behind it, behind the amiable, polite expression, dulled her excitement. “This isn’t for me. This is for him.”
“I’m here because I want to be.”
“What did Roman do? Is he drunk? High? Off somewhere wreaking havoc?”
Specifics may be vague, but it wasn’t exactly a leap to picture Roman being a selfish thrill seeker. Was he out there cheating on her? Not her, her, the construct of her, of them. Not something she should focus too heavily on while her own hand rested so high on his brother’s thigh.
“I want to be here,” he said again, and scooped up her hand to kiss her knuckles. “For the first time, a night of playing my brother isn’t such a bad prospect. Maybe the second time.”
His next smile reminded him, reminded her, of the night they met.
“I don’t care about him. I care about you. If he’s out there being an idiot, or on twenty-four-hour watch so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit, it affects you. You’re who I care about.”
“Do you know about tonight?” he asked, apparently eager to change the subject or, at least, not dwell on his twin’s position. “Where we’re going?”
Was it to save his own sanity? Roman’s behavior had to be laborious in its repetition. Given he’d dealt with it his whole life, Struan could just be over it, or was he genuinely concerned and in need of a distraction?
“No. A fter Chic put my clothes out for the week, I stopped asking. Figure as long as there’s no stripping or karaoke involved, I can handle most anything.”
“I’m with you on the karaoke. On the stripping…” he drew out the word, raising his brows like he wouldn’t be averse to that idea. Providing it was them together, alone, she wouldn’t be either. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. It’s a party, something for the studio. Bigwigs getting together, rubbing shoulders, crowing about their latest multimillion dollar deal, or the last billion dollars they made at the box office.”
So she may be standing around. “Easier than dinner. If it’s a party, we don’t have to stay too long with any one group.”
“No.” He curved an arm around her hips to pull her even closer. “And there’s dancing; I’ll be allowed to put my arms around you.”
Tipping up her chin, she leaned in. “You’re always allowed.”
He kissed her quick. “Just remember my name tonight.”
Talk about extinguishing the passion. “I’d rather refrain from using any name at all than call you him, call you by his name.”
“Whatever you decide.”
He took her hand to his lips again. Would they ever be them, just them, without Roman’s specter spoiling every moment?
“How long have you had to do this? Have you been out with other women for him?”
“Sway, but she knew the deal. Anyone less committed didn’t get an explanation. His worst years were with Sway. I don’t know how she put up with him. I honestly don’t.”
And, at the same time, she questioned how he’d done the same thing his whole life. “I’m curious about her. And there are things I… I hoped we’d get a chance to talk, but didn’t see you at work.”
“Me and the guys were off-site, preparing for Vancouver.”
“Is that where we’re going on location? What’s the plan?”
“You’ll have a place to sleep. I’ll keep a spot warm for you, don’t worry about that.”
She feigned a swoon. “My hero.”
“Just looking out for you, baby.”
“I’m happy you’re prepping, confident in your ability. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“You’re biased.”
No denying that. “And proud of it.”
“You’re taking UO by storm.”
“UO?” She frowned. “ Undercover Ops ? I am?”
“Yeah, everyone’s impressed, confused how Roman bagged you.”
“Something else he can thank you for.”
“You assert yourself and still make friends. You’re doing really well.”
“I refused to be put back into isolation. I might not have experience filming TV shows, but I can muck in.”
“That’s what I’m hearing. No job too big or small. People like you… which puts them in an awkward position.”
And that she got in an instant. “Because they don’t like Roman?”
“They don’t know him that well yet. Most aren’t sure how to approach him. Those who’ve tried never know which Roman they’ll get. Happy, personable, humble—”
“Humble? Ha!” She laughed. “Humble? I’ve never seen that side of him.”
“He can pull it off, he’s an actor.”
“Don’t I know it. During dinner with Whey I kept reminding myself. He was so different from the man I knew.”
“You did well last night too, sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You can’t be running around after me every minute. I understand your brother can be tedious, but he’s never endangered me.” Yet, the word stayed in her head. Roman had done little to suggest he was any kind of predator, yet she never quite felt completely safe with him. “Why did Whey give him the role in Undercover Ops ?”
“Ricardo Whey doesn’t make casting decisions on—”
“Are you giving me a scripted answer?”
His laugh at her offense only tightened his hold. “He had a thing with our mom a million years ago, before we were born. Never asked for the details but Magnus knows, something anyway, doubt he went past the broad strokes. Why would he want to wade in like that?”
He wouldn’t with his own sister’s sex life. “Whey said Magnus owed him big for this.”
“He does.”
“Shouldn’t it be Roman who pays any debt?”
“If he pulls this off, it works for everyone.”
And if he didn’t…
“Who’s Lomond?” she asked while she had him.
His frown came to her in curiosity. “Zairn Lomond? They talked about him?”
“Once. As soon as Roman said his name—”
“Let me guess, Whey lost his sense of humor?”
Their fingers coiled and played, stroking between each other, rising occasionally to his mouth.
“There’s bad blood there?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Who is he?”
“Zairn Lomond? Owns clubs, entertainment venues, a whole bunch of everything. Billionaire out of New York. I’ve known him a long time, he’s a good man.”
Even having never met this Lomond, she trusted Struan’s evaluation of his character more than Roman’s, and what was suggested by Whey’s reaction to the name.
“Wait…” she said, reaching for the glimmer of a memory. “Lomond. I’ve heard that be—Lomond’s Delight.”
“His fiancée, Roxie Kyst. Yeah, same Lomond.”
Huh, so there was a connection between them. During that conversation with Mieux, Lomond’s Delight had been described as a friend.
“Will Sway be at the party tonight?” she asked. “I’d love to meet her.”
“Doubtful. I can text Tripp and find out.”
“Tripp? Is that who she’s with now?”
“No, him and Roxie have been looking out for her since we got back from the island.”
Being with a man like Roman must be devastating. How did someone free themselves from that?
“Raquel, Whey’s companion at dinner, thought Sway was engaged to a Deacon.”
“Sway and Deacon were together years ago, before she got with Roman. After her and Roman split when he was in rehab, her and Deac found their way to each other again. Don’t know how it happened. Logan might.”
“Your other brother?”
He nodded. “Things kicked off when Roman found out they were engaged and there was drama in Hawaii. It’s a mess of crap.” As was Roman’s theme. “It’s not important.”
“Is she okay?”
“Sway Sheridan is stronger than everyone gives her credit for. The bullshit she put up with in her family far outweighs anything she probably had to endure with Roman. But I don’t know. I’m not the guy she’d tell about that. Tripp’s on it. Everybody talks to Tripp.”
The curl of his lips was proud, and maybe a little amused.
“Everybody?”
“Everybody. Why do you think we call him ‘Priest’? Anyone can confess anything to Tripp Breckenridge. He’s more trustworthy than your priest, your doctor, your therapist, your spouse, everyone combined, and never breaks his vow.”
“Is he religious?”
“No. Far from it.” That came with another whisper of a laugh. “In a family the size of his, there’s always something going on. He listens, watches, he cares about people. When someone needs to get something off their chest, he’s there for them.”
“I’d love to meet him too. He means a lot to you. I can tell.”
“Yeah, Tripp’s put up with it from me, and then some. There aren’t a lot of outlets for the Roman stuff, the rehab, the relapse. With my brother it’s drama after drama, and Tripp always picks up the phone.”
“I can be an outlet,” she said, freeing her hand from his to slide it high on his inner thigh. “If you want me.”
Bowing, he rested his forehead on her. “Fawn, I don’t know how I got through the days without you.” Yet he bristled. “It’s not easy that you’re with him.”
“I’m not with him. And never would be. I’m doing this for you.” Didn’t he get that? “Because you asked me to do it.”
“I know I didn’t mean—the world thinks you’re together.” He straightened to meet her eye again. “I hate they don’t know the truth. For the first time, I really resent the shit out of it.”
Would there be a way to navigate this? For them to be free of Roman and maybe explore what was between them?
Would they always be private? Secret? A dirty indiscretion never to be discussed?
“I’ll be better,” he said. “More present. When you came out that door tonight, Jesus, baby… looking at you, everything else fades away. You’re everything.”
As he cupped her cheek, she relaxed her head into his palm’s embrace. “It’s important to me that you don’t forget. Promise me you won’t forget.”
“Forget what?”
“How this started. Why this started. How we found ourselves in this situation.”
The tape? No. Their predicament was nothing to do with the video, not exactly. And he didn’t need that spelled out.
“In that basement,” he murmured.
“In that basement,” she agreed and closed her eyes as his lips descended to hers again.