7. Kinsley
7
KINSLEY
“ K insley, wait!”
I look up from the coffee in my hand to see Wesley jogging toward me. His plain brown hair is neatly styled behind his ears with too much gel, and his lips are curved up into a smile. I try to return his smile, but there is too much on my mind right now to add my coworker to the mix.
“Wesley,” I say in greeting. “Is everything okay?”
We didn’t have any scenes to shoot together today since the director wanted to focus on my character’s scenes with her two best friends and thankfully, none of them included Wesley. With the music award show tonight on my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was spend an entire day with him.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” He puts his hands on his jean-clad hips and smiles down at me. “I was sad to learn we didn’t have any scenes to shoot together today. I missed having you by my side.”
I cringe internally at his words. If only he knew I didn’t feel the same way.
“Yeah, unfortunate, right…” I clear my throat and shift my feet on the spot, eager to get out of the tight-fitting clothes Cindy put me in. “Is there anything you need or…? It’s just that I have an event tonight I need to go get ready for.”
Wesley’s face falls at my words and he looks down at his shoes. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask if you would like to get dinner with me tonight, but if you already have plans that’s fine.”
Except, it’s not fine. I hear the disappointment in his voice. While it’s not my problem he’s feeling down, there is a little part inside of me that feels bad for consistently having to shut down his advances because I’m not interested. I’m not openly telling him I’m not interested because I don’t want to ruin the vibe on set while filming, so that’s on me.
“It’s okay.” I try to put on a fake smile, but even I can tell I must look insane without having to see my face. “Maybe another time, okay?”
That seems to lift his spirits because a smile returns to his lips and his brown eyes are slightly lighter than they were moments ago. “Really? Okay, great! I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Why can’t I just tell this man I’m not interested instead of making this situation more difficult for me down the track?
“Great…”
“Where are you going tonight, anyway?”
I clear my throat. I don’t want to tell him too much because Adam was adamant about not ruining the surprise reveal. “Just an event. Nothing special.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be good, and you’ll look as beautiful as you always do.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Normally, a man complimenting a woman like that would give them butterflies and chills. But not me. I feel nothing. “Anyway, I should get going. But I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Can’t wait!” Wesley gives me his best seductive smile before he turns and walks toward his dressing room down the corridor.
When he’s out of sight, I release a long breath and close my eyes. I know I need to put a pin in this before it explodes in my face, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The movie is close to being done so I don’t see the point in making things awkward between us.
“Cindy, is all this makeup really necessary?”
Another swipe of makeup across my cheeks makes me cringe. I hate wearing lots of makeup even though it’s part of my job. It makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. The products feel heavy and unnatural. I would prefer to wear something lighter, but Cindy insists I need more because it’ll look better in photographs.
I have no reason not to trust her because she’s the expert.
“Trust me, Kin. Once I’m done with you, you’re going to look more stunning than you already are.”
I bite back a smile at her words. God, this woman is too kind to me.
Cindy has been my stylist since I was eighteen. My parents wanted me to hire one stylist to follow me from one project to the next, and after going through an extensive hiring process with lots of qualified candidates, Cindy was the one who stuck out to me the most. Not only is she a caring and kind person, but her skills were the best out of the pool of applicants. I knew deep in my heart she was the right person to hire, despite my parents’ objections to wanting me to hire someone closer in age to me.
Even after all these years of working together, I know I made the right choice by bringing this woman into my life. She has shown me what a mother figure truly is because I never got that with my mother growing up. While my mother was obsessed with my appearance and what jobs I booked, Cindy taught me how to cook when my parents weren’t home and we would go out to eat and shop. My mother would never do that. She hates cooking, even more than my father, and refuses to go to shopping malls because she can’t stand being in large crowds and is afraid of getting sick.
Cindy is the person I go to when I’m feeling down or need advice. She never hesitates to help me with anything and has proven time and time again over the years she is willing to drop everything for me if I need her. It’s more than my own mother can say.
“I trust you,” I say slowly so as not to mess up whatever it is she is doing. “How long until I need to leave?”
Cindy pauses what she is doing before saying, “Nash should be here in ten minutes. Which means we need to get you into your dress.”
After another minute of messing with my face, Cindy walks with me to my closet and helps me get into the dress she picked out for me this morning. It’s a black off-the-shoulder dress with ruffles from one side to the other, running over my chest. I couldn’t have picked a better dress myself.
“It’s perfect,” I say, smiling at Cindy through the full-length as she admires me from over my shoulder. She fluffs out the curls framing my face, adding volume to the hair. Thankfully, the makeup isn’t too heavy on my skin as I had thought and complements the dress perfectly.
“You’re such a beautiful woman, Kin,” she praises quietly, her eyes taking me in. An emotion I can’t quite read shines in her eyes, but she blinks it away before I can decipher it. “And I’m sure Nash sees it too.”
I roll my eyes as I turn to sit on the stool in the middle of my walk-in closet, surrounded by beige walls and colorful clothing. My ass is numb from sitting for the past couple of hours while I got my hair and makeup done, but I need to slip on my plain black heels before Nash arrives.
“I don’t think so, Cindy. All he cares about is his music, drugs, and the women who throw themselves at him.”
Cindy frowns from where she stands by the vanity, her eyes watching my movements. “I’m sure that’s not true. If he didn’t think you were attractive or special, then he wouldn’t have agreed to the contract.”
While I would like to think her logic to be true, I know it’s far from the truth. “Nash Beck only cares about himself and his band. I’m sure he’s willing to do anything to help the image of Dark Angel even if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t give a shit about me.”
“Kin, that’s not?—”
A sharp knock at the front door makes Cindy’s words die in her throat. I want to ask her what she was going to say, but I don’t have time to continue the conversation.
“I better go.” I stand, the white shag carpet soft beneath my heels. I smile at Cindy. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
Cindy smiles as she pulls me in for a tight hug. I wrap my arms around her frame and breathe in her familiar scent of rose and jasmine. It’s a scent that puts me at ease now because I associate it with her.
“Be safe tonight, Kin. I know you have a lot riding on your shoulders right now, but remember to look after yourself and be cautious, okay? We both know what this industry is like.”
Swallowing hard, I pull away from the embrace and nod. She doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Another knock at the door has me waving goodbye to Cindy as I grab my clutch and race downstairs. Thankfully, my parents didn’t stop by tonight to see me off to the award show. They know about the show and me announcing my ‘relationship’ with Nash, but they had something else on tonight so they couldn’t drop by. Thank God, because their presence would’ve made my nerves worse than they already are.
Although, the note I found on the kitchen counter when I got home from work this afternoon made me roll my eyes. I’m not surprised they want to stop by tomorrow morning to discuss the details of the award show. Or, I guess, not want but will be.
It’s a reminder that I need to change my locks. I’ve been meaning to set boundaries with them for years but couldn’t bring myself to do it because they’re my parents and the ones who got me into this career. As much as they get on my nerves with their insistent need to meddle in my life, I don’t think I could push them away to the point they’re no longer in my life. Setting some boundaries with them is a good first step.
I swing the front door open to see James standing there in a crisp black suit and his beard styled neatly with not a hair out of place. When he sees me, he smiles. “Good evening, Miss May. Are you ready to go?”
Stepping onto the front porch, I close the front door behind me without locking it, knowing Cindy will lock up when she leaves. “I sure am.”
“Come with me then.”
I follow James down the footpath to the waiting dark gray Rolls-Royce Camargue parked in front of the house. The windows are tinted so I can’t see inside the car, but I know Nash is sitting in the back seat waiting for me.
Blowing out a long breath, I smooth my sweaty hands down the front of the dress as James opens the back door for me. I utter a quiet thanks and slide onto the leather seat. My eyes quickly meet two mismatched eyes from across the space, taking my breath away for a moment. I’m not used to gazing into such intense eyes, and I don’t think I ever will be.
I hate to admit it, but Nash looks handsome in a black long-sleeved shirt with the top buttons undone to reveal the smooth skin of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to show off the tattoos littering his right arm. I don’t linger too long and instead, take in the rest of him. Black dress pants hug his hips and his messy curls are styled a little more than usual around his face with some falling over his eyes.
“Are you done gawking at me, little devil?”
My heart races at the sound of his voice, and I snap my eyes up to meet the blue and green ones staring back at me. His lip ring is resting between his teeth as his eyes drink me in, not at all ashamed of the way they roam across my body.
Normally, if a man did this to me, I would try to shrink away and hide my body as a reflex, but with Nash… I don’t know what it is, but I don’t shrink away or hide. I let him look. Why? I have no fucking idea... but it scares me a little. A fire ignites low in my stomach when his eyes meet mine. Fuck .
“Only if you’re done.”
Nash releases the lip ring and smirks. “Well played.”
We don’t compliment the other’s appearance because I think it’s clear from our roaming eyes what we think. Instead, we sit in silence the whole drive to the award ceremony. It’s being held at the Memorial Sports Arena in Los Angeles. I have been there a couple of times for concerts over the years and even attended movie award shows, but never one for music. I wonder how music award shows differ from the ones I’m used to… I would be lying if I said I’m not the least bit curious to see what it’s like to be surrounded by the music industry's top artists.
My right leg bounces beneath me as I gaze out the window at the passing cars. The arena is getting closer, and my nerves are kicking into fucking overdrive. The reality of the situation begins to settle heavily on my shoulders as Nash’s presence beside me becomes suffocating.
I don’t know if I can do this. How can I go out there and pretend to be in love with a man I barely know? It’s fucking crazy is what it is. And I don’t know if it’s something I can do.
What if I mess up when Nash kisses me for the cameras? What if I trip in my heels on the red carpet and become a laughingstock in the tabloids? What if no one believes our relationship and It Girl becomes doomed heading into release day?
It’s all too much for me to handle. A lot is riding on this contract—for me and Nash—and I don’t want to be the one who fucks it all up because I can’t hack it.
“Hey.”
My head snaps to the right at the sound of Nash’s deep voice. His eyes are focused on me but I can’t read the emotion behind them. They’re like a brick wall, not giving anything away about what he’s feeling or thinking.
“Are you okay?”
I exhale a shaky breath as the car pulls into the arena grounds, reminding me it’s almost show time. My heart is beating so hard and fast I’m afraid it’s going to burst through my rib cage and land on the seat separating me from Nash. My skin is flushed hot, but on the inside, I feel as cold as ice.
“No. I’m not okay. I—” My words die in my throat at the sight of the media standing at the start of the red carpet, their cameras pointed directly at the celebrities leaving their cars.
Oh, fuck .
“I can’t do this,” I whisper, my head spinning. I blink rapidly to try and clear my vision, but it doesn’t help. “I can’t fucking do this, Nash. I can’t go out there and?—”
“Yes, you can,” he says, interrupting my word vomit. “We know what we need to do, so let’s just get it done, okay?”
I shake my head, my hair flying around my face. “I-I can’t. Nope. We need to turn around and go home. Now.”
“Kinsley,” Nash growls, likely annoyed with my rambling and inability to calm my nerves. “You can do this.”
That’s the first time he has used my name correctly, but I barely register it because my ears are ringing and my heart is racing.
I think I’m going to have a heart attack.
Is this what heart attack victims feel before their heart gives out on them? If so, it fucking sucks.
I snap my eyes up to meet Nash’s and shake my head again, my body vibrating violently. “No, I can’t! I need to get out of here right now. I need to?—”
I’m silenced by the feel of Nash’s lips against mine, the cold bite of his lip ring a shock to my system as the car rolls to a stop in front of the red carpet.