Chapter Six
It had to have been a mistake when she walked to the door. Who would actually be knocking on it? There was no point for anyone to. No one knew where she was, and she knew that Kevin hadn't taken a plane up there, since she had talked to him a half hour ago on the phone, finalizing the preliminaries for her to write the non-fiction book and buy herself some time.
So why did she even bother opening the door, Alex wondered to herself as her hand closed on the cold door knob, turning it quickly and swinging the heavy wooden door towards her. At first, she had plastered a polite smile on her face. It dropped the instant she saw who it was.
HIM. Standing there, his hands in his jacket pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels, and a Cheshire grin on his face. His head turned to look beside him, and she moved her head, to see a head of familiar honey brown curly hair. He had brought HER along. "Hey," Chris said with that same grin, a strangle sparkle in his eye. If she didn't know better, he was trying not to laugh.
Alex pushed the door open the rest of the way, and as she did, he took his chance and walked in, looking around. Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, I think he left his brain back on the tou...terrible flight that we had to take out here. You wouldn't have believed the turbulence." The writer looked at her curiously when she noticed the slip. It seemed like she was about to say something else, and she had been. Brooklyn had been ready to tell her that they had gotten to Aspen by way of her tour bus, but she changed her sentence the best way she knew how.
"Come on in. You might as well collect him before he breaks something."
Brooklyn stepped in gratefully, happy to get out of the cold, and wondering why the hell she had been brought along on this little side trip. Oh, she knew well enough why she was there, but the reason that Chris was there...that was what she didn't understand. She started to push off the boots she was wearing before Alex stopped her. "Don't bother. I already tracked enough snow and crap into the house, and I'm sure your friend is doing the same."
"He's not my friend by choice, believe me," she said with a chuckle, before tilting her head. "Chris, if you value breathing at all, you would come back over here so that I don't have to get Alexandra's house all muddy and wet while I chase you around to give you the beating that you deserve," she called in a sweet enough voice. "He never listens unless you threaten his life. Actually, he never listens at all."
Alex rolled her eyes, looking down at the floor so that Brooklyn wouldn't be able to see. She wasn't all that surprised by her comment. He didn't seem to listen, and while having a mind of their own was something that Alex usually admired in a person (grudgingly, of course), Chris, it seemed to her, had a very annoying mind.
He walked back in and grinned again at the two women. "Nice place. Looks almost identical to Brooke's." Alex turned to look at him, when Brooklyn was preoccupied with getting a pair of gloves out of her pocket, and shot him a look that practically singed his hair. "Anyway, I was hoping that you could do us a favor, Alexandra," he said, her name slipping off his tongue effortlessly.
She gave him a bored look. "I don't baby-sit animals or kids, I don't clean houses, and I don't look after them. What else could be left for you to throw my way, I wonder?" she asked, without one bit of humor in her voice. Brooklyn looked up from behind her after she had said that, and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. Chris shook his head.
"Believe me, I wouldn't ask anyone to clean after any of their messes. I've been doing it for a week now, and it is definitely not fun. This is something simple, actually. The day that you had come over," Brooklyn began, "Justin and Joey, two of our friends, caught a little peek at you. Lance, the other person that's staying there, didn't. Unfortunately, they're the type of people that have to know every single person around them. I swear, they haven't shut up about you since. Especially since you seem to be quite the sparring partner for Chris. I remember when Josh and I were like that," she broke herself off with a smile.
"You're still like that. Didn't you just call him a bastard this morning?"
"With the most amount of love possible, only. Trust me on that. Besides, he drank the last cup of coffee without asking me if I wanted some. And this is getting so far off track, it's not even funny. The favor that we need from you, Alexandra, is simple. You have to come over for dinner, and make all of them shut up for once."
She looked from Chris to Brooklyn a few times, almost grimacing every time she looked towards him. She didn't like him, didn't want to spend a single second more around him...but she needed information. Sophia was already tapped out, and she wasn't about to ask Kevin if he could help. After all, she was supposed to be preoccupied with writing Tim Croft's biography. "Dinner."
The country singer nodded. "Dinner. Oh, believe me, it's nothing really special. I'm sure that between the six of us, we can make something that won't poison you, but I'm not making any promises," she said with a slight chuckle.
"Too bad your brother isn't here to cook for us," Chris mentioned wistfully, his mind flashing back to all the different meals he had eaten at her house, when Austin had still been living there.
That piqued Alex's attention. Hadn't Mia Coltrain (and she had to think for a moment to remember how she was linked to Chris) married a chef? "Oh, does your brother cook?"
"He's all right," she said with a smile. There was something about that smile that was guarded, like there was a story behind the story. Unfortunately, at the moment, Alex wasn't going to question it.
"He's better than Brooke, and that makes him an expert almost. So, what do you say, Alexandra? Save us from hearing our friends bitch every ten or so minutes about how we got a chance to meet you and they still have no idea who you really are?" he asked with that 'cat that ate the canary' grin again. She was seriously starting to dislike it.
And the idea of dinner could help her delve a little more into her plan to annoy the one and only Chris Kirkpatrick that was standing in front of her. "Dinner," she said slowly, as if tasting the word. "Why not? It's not like I have a lot to do around here. I would be honored to be your guest," she said, a hidden tone of sarcasm in her voice.
"Great," Brooklyn chirped. Alex hated people like that. "We'll see you in two days then. I'll walk down to get you then. I wouldn't trust you with the other guys." She chuckled again, to herself, and opened the door. "Okay, come on, oh idiot best friend of mine. We have to go make sure that they haven't blown up the place yet...and I still have to beat up that boyfriend of mine."
She stepped onto the porch, letting herself out with a small wave before she turned to see why Chris was taking so long. Her mouth practically dropped open when she saw Chris grab Alex for a hug. Rolling her eyes, she looked up. "Please, God, I'd like for him to remain in one, living, breathing piece so that I get a chance to get back to him for everything that he's ever done to me one day." She looked back and noticed Alex was completely flustered and confused, but not angry. "Thanks for actually listening to me once," she finished in her hushed voice before grabbing Chris by the sleeve. "Come on. See you then, Alexandra," she grinned before closing the door.
As soon as they made their way down the stairs and towards the end of the driveway, she turned to look at him. "What the hell was that all about? I'm surprised that you didn't freeze to death when you grabbed onto the Ice Queen."
He shrugged. "I was just being nice," he told her as they continued walking. "I wonder how she's going to like it when I'm OVERLY nice. Probably cause a major meltdown," he murmured to himself, trying to keep up with Brooklyn's fast pace.
So why exactly did she say yes again, she wondered as she sat on the couch. She must have been out of her mind. She must have been out of her mind when she didn't smack Chris for that impromptu Kumbaya session in the foyer, too. What was he trying to do, make up for everything that he had said to her so far...which wasn't much, really. If that was true, he wasn't going to get much forgiveness out of Alex. She didn't forgive anyone.
And yet she was sitting in her living room, waiting for Brooklyn to come to her door and pick her up for the little walk back to the obviously expensive cabin. Too expensive for a musician, she figured. "What does she think, I'm going to get lost on the way or something?" she muttered to herself, crossing her arms under her breasts and slouching down when she the image of Chris grabbing her flew into her mind again.
She didn't hate Chris. She disliked him. So why did it feel like her skin crawled every time she thought about it? It wasn't like he had stuck his tongue in her ear or something. Maybe being that close to someone that she knew was purposely deceiving her just made her sick. She sure as hell didn't look like some kind of groupie. Yet he was lying, and she was pretty damned sure that his friends were lying, as well, with Brooklyn doing the majority of it.
Her eyes rolled before she slammed her head back when she heard the knock on the door. "Just a second," she called in the nicest voice that she could muster, lying through her teeth. She was lying to them, but that was a different type of lying. That was lying because her job forced her to do that. That wasn't bad lying, she assured herself as she ran her hands through her light brown hair before opening the door and staring blatantly at Chris. "I thought that Brooke was supposed to come pick me up," she said with feigned surprise. She had actually expected this to happen.
He shrugged. "She was a little busy, so I offered to come."
Offered. My ass he had offered, she thought as she picked up her coat and pushed her arms through it, holding it closed. "All right, then, let's go." She so desperately wanted to add that she didn't think a three minute walk would push her over the edge and force her to murder him, but she wasn't too sure about that, she thought to herself sardonically, as she closed the door behind her, and followed him down the steps, her boots crunching the snow left on them. "So tell me, did the pressures of being a musician force you to take a vacation, or is this just a favor to Brooke?"
"I think it would have been more of a favor if we hadn't invited ourselves, but in a way, yes, my job got a little too hectic. There was too much to deal with, and we all decided to join up for awhile." He picked his way through the lies and truths much like he would pick his way through a mine field. There was FAR too much to deal with in the "real" world, since this world didn't seem real to them. There were no more reporters asking for the latest piece of news on Brooklyn and JC, or worse, him and Brooklyn. No more cameras flashing whenever they were around, and no more screaming in his ears whenever he walked through a grocery store to pick up a gallon of milk. "And you?"
Her eyes rolled in the darkness as they picked their way through the snow and ice. "Oh, my desk was practically covered with manuscripts," lie number one, she thought, "and I just couldn't keep up." Lie number two. "My boss seemed to think that I needed a break." Truth number one. "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to read through some of those and find all the mistakes." Truth number two. So far, they were evened out, and it sounded more believable.
Their talk was, thankfully in both of their minds, cut short, as they walked up the small set of stairs to the porch of Brooklyn's cabin. Chris opened the door, and pushed off his boots and jacket, leaving them on the ground before Brooklyn's voice filled the air. "Christopher, if you know what's good for you, you'll hang those up," she yelled from the kitchen. "Sorry about that. Go on," she said more quietly, her voice still reaching them.
"Yes, Mom," he shouted back sarcastically, hanging up his coat beside Alex's, and started to walk to the living room, leaving her alone in the foyer.
"Asshole," she muttered under her breath before walking into the kitchen to see Brooklyn on the phone, nodding her head. She lifted her head and waved Alex in. "Thanks, Cowboy. I'll call you in a few days to see how everything's shaping up. Uh huh, I'll remember. Bye." She hung up the phone and grinned. "Sorry about that, my brother decided to make his weekly check up call to me. I swear, even though he's married and officially not living in my house, he can be do annoying," she finished, rolling her eyes. "Chris didn't manhandle you or anything, did he?" she asked curiously.
Alex shook her head. "Of course not," she said politely, forcing a smile onto her face. "I just wanted to ask if you needed any help."
JC threw down the knife he was holding and sighed happily. "Oh, thank God. Does that mean that I get to leave domestic hell and go watch the hockey game?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend.
"What, you need permission from me now? Do I look like your keeper? If Alex wouldn't mind helping me a little, then I'm sure that you could go and watch your precious game. Just keep me up on the score, okay?" she asked, turning her head to catch his kiss before he walked by. He stopped and grinned devilishly at Brooklyn before bending his head to plant a quick kiss on Alex's cheek.
"You're officially my new best friend," he told her, chuckling when Brooklyn threw a piece of carrot at him. He caught it and chewed it with a laugh as he walked out, practically shouting to find out what the score was. He relayed it to Brooklyn, who groaned.
"I could hear Justin, and I'm sure that so could Japan. Thank you." She shook her head. "Welcome to my personal hell, also known as my four closest friends and my boyfriend. Please check your sanity at the door, as it's not needed in here. If you wouldn't mind finishing Josh's WONDERFUL JOB ON THE POTATOES, I would be much obliged," she said with a smile, pushing a piece of carrot into her own mouth.
Walking in further, Alex dropped the smile when Brooklyn had turned around. She already had Chris touching her, now his friend was kissing her? She was glad that she never had friends like that. "No problem, Brooke. I'd be glad to." She walked up to the counter and picked up the knife, starting on the half finished job. "You know, I can't remember if you told me where you're from or not," Alex said curiously, though she damned well knew the answer.
Brooklyn turned her head slightly to look at her. "Oh, it's a small town called Belleview. Cute little place, but boring as hell."
"I wouldn't call Bellevue boring, persay," she said slowly, keeping her attention on the potatoes.
"You've been there? Wow, that's surprising." She shook her head and turned back to look towards the living room. "Are those groans good or bad for me?" she asked loudly.
"Islanders just scored. Looks like you're going to owe me ten bucks, Brooke," Justin shouted back, his voice filled with glee.
Her eyes rolled. "Just a suggestion. If Justin EVER asks you to make a bet on something, turn him down. Don't even bother thinking about pride, because you'll have none left when the game is over. He has to be the luckiest bastard in the world. He wins every bet he makes. Sometimes I think that he should buy me a lottery ticket, just so that the luck could rub off on me. So, you said that you've been to Belleview?"
Alex nodded to herself, trying to hide her smile. "Well, yes. I go there quite often, actually. It's not far from Seattle, where I'm from."
For a moment, Brooklyn was dumbfounded, before she began to laugh. "Oh, you were talking about THAT Bellevue. I was talking about Belleview, Tennessee. It's right outside of Nashville. I thought that it was weird when you said that you had been there before. I don't think the town even makes it onto any maps, other than road maps."
When Alex was finished, and Brooklyn had set everything onto the stove, she gestured for her to follow her into the living room. The author took a seat on the arm chair that no one had been occupying as Brooklyn went over to her purse, in the corner. She pulled out two ten dollar bills and dropped one in Justin's lap. "I'm a glutton for punishment. I know that there's another game on after this one. I've got my money on Colorado, if you want to take Pittsburgh. I think I have a better chance with this one."
"You know that I love nothing more than taking your money, Brooke. Anyone else up for a little bet with me?"
The room was filled with silence before Alex dug into her pocket. "I got twenty bucks on Colorado. That is, if you're not too chicken to take the bet...Justin, isn't it? I usually don't take money from kids, but what the hell. Everyone has to make an exception once in awhile."
Only Chris knew that the sarcasm in her voice was faked. Justin, on the other hand, didn't. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, placing a ten dollar bill ontop of Brooklyn's and a twenty dollar bill on the table, nodding towards it. "That would be me," he said, before putting his wallet back. "You know, if I were you, I wouldn't even bother. The Avalanche lost their last two games. The one they won against Detroit was just a fluke."
"We can read the sports pages. I'm not illiterate, and I'm sure that Brooke isn't either," Alex said evenly, reaching forward to put her money on the table. "You know that you're asking for it, kid. Just like you, I haven't lost a bet that I've made in my entire life. It looks like your streak is about to be broken."
"And I would be ever thankful for that," Brooklyn said, rolling her eyes as she pushed her way to a seat on the couch beside JC. "Not to sound cocky or anything, but damn, I'm going to enjoy taking your money."
He smirked, leaning back as he changed the channel, where the pregame show was just ending. "You know, I'm going to feel bad taking a woman's money."
"You never said that whenever you took my money," the country singer complained from beside him.
"I said woman, Brooke. NOT bi-"
Her hand slammed down over his mouth. "If you want to have children one day, you won't finish that sentence. Hell, you won't finish that thought. Remember, Justin, don't bite the hand that feeds you, and I'm the one that's making dinner."
"Yes, ma'am."
Dinner, if you wanted the truth, was strained at best. Strained between Chris and Alex, who seemed to be doing their best at annoying each other. Justin came in a close second, sulking over the fact that his streak had finally been broken...by two women. The thought that he had been beaten was bad enough, but his slightly sexist side came out to play and complained about the fact that it was because of women that he had lost his touch.
And the questions. My Lord. Alex was beginning to wonder if they were reporters in disguise or something. All those questions about who she was, where she grew up, what she did...was that information really of any concern of them? She remembered Brooklyn saying that they needed to know everyone, but did they have to know every thing about every one?
So she had returned the favor. She asked about them, about their familiar, and she noticed something that made her wonder about who they all really were. Every time they were stuck for an answer, every time that they needed an answer, they looked towards Brooklyn. And she would come out with some smooth line, usually followed by a question of her own, no matter how harmless those questions seemed. Yet she was never really told anything about then. Oh, she knew their names...first names, anyway...but besides that, there was nothing that she couldn’t figure out herself.
She could tell which ones had been the older child in the family, or the youngest, or the only child. She could tell what they were really like, even if they were on their “best behavior” like a mother had scolded them to be. Which, in fact, Mommy Brooke, as Alex had started to call her in her mind, was acting like sometimes. She obviously didn’t put up with any fussing from any of them. Even her own boyfriend took a few shots. And everything was funny. Everything she said came out with a teasing tone, like there was some sort of inside joke between her and someone else.
Lord knows that she tried to escape what she considered to be the depths of hell as soon as possible. She stayed for a decent amount of time, but used an early phone call as an excuse to get out of the cabin, and out of the friendly atmosphere. As she was putting on her coat, she looked at the necklace around Brooklyn’s neck. “That’s adorable. Is it from Josh?”
She felt for it and smiled. “Yeah, he gave it to me last Christmas...or was it the Christmas before? It’s hard to remember now. But I do know that it was for one Christmas.”
“Does New York have any special meaning for you two?” She made her voice sound curious, forcing herself to smile as she dug in her pockets for some gloves.
“Yes, it does, actually. We met there, when we were working on the same track together. I fell for him that day, even though I had a boyfriend.”
Alex opened the door and took a deep breath. “It’s very beautiful. And thank you, for the wonderful dinner. I appreciate it. It was nice to meet everyone.” Oh, she was lying though her teeth again. Wonderful dinner, her ass. She had gotten very little information about Chris that would help her at all. He was...TOO nice, and it had distracted her from hearing his actual answers.
“No problem. Have a good night.” The door closed behind her, and Alex started down the steps, muttering to herself. “Ever again. Never again will I do something like that. I cannot STAND to sit across from him and pretend that I like him. UGH.”
A week had passed. A week that held no more contact between Alex and Chris, to Brooklyn's dismay. No contact meant that there was no time for the two of them to work through their differences, and maybe see something more than just sparring partners...or so she thought. But the end of that week held many important events, all of them culminating from a constant stream of phone calls between Alex and her editor. Calls that had to do with the non-fiction book that she had been so dead-set against writing.
And the end of that week...that was when it was announced to the world. That was also the day that the grocery shopping had been done for 1924 Fir Drive.
Amid the crackling of bags, one very conspicuous item was held everyone's attention (or at least, everyone in the kitchen) somehow. "Catch, Brooke," Joey called, tossing a pink grapefruit through the air. She caught it with a smile and put it on the cutting board, pushing a knife through the middle of it. Reaching up, she picked out a bowl and placed half of it in there, loosing all the different pieces with her knife before she took a spoon out of the drawer, carrying it to the table. "I also managed to remember to get a USA Today," he said, pulling the newspaper out.
Brooklyn was in the middle of digging out a piece of grapefruit as she put her hand up. "Entertainment, please," she said at the same time as Chris. "Fine, give me the sports and I'll trade off with you when you're done," she conceded when she saw his look and took the stack of folded newspaper before spreading it out in beside her.
"Where's everyone else?" Joey asked, taking the World News section and sitting down at the table.
Her thumb pointed towards the door that led to the backyard. "Three way snowball fight. Justin started it when he shoved a snowball down JC's pants, who in turn got his own snowball and ended up hitting Lance with it. I kicked them all outside to play." She chewed slowly. "Cool. The Avalanche won last night."
"Who were they playing?" Chris asked as he turned the page, his hand reaching for his coffee.
"Toronto. Shut them out, three nothing. I wouldn't be surprised if they're in the run for Lord Stanley's Cup again." Both of the men looked at her curiously. "What, I'm not allowed to keep up on sports stuff but I’m allowed to bet on it? I happen to be a big college football fan, and hockey isn't too bad. At least I don't make everyone watch figure skating."
Chris rolled his eyes and continued to read before his mouth dropped open. "Uh oh. I think Brooke is going to start burning her Colwell books. You better read this," he said, handing over his section of the paper.
"Hold on, I have to go and get my glasses," she said as she stood up, putting the section of the paper down ontop of the sports section. She ran into the living room before she returned with her reading glasses case. Joey looked at her curiously. "You could read the Avalanche score with no problem, but you need your glasses now?"
Her eyes rolled. "Look at the sports section. All the scores are printed in this huge text that even a blind man could see. This is all smaller, so I need my glasses. Unless you'd rather that I didn't read this," she teased Chris as she slipped on the clear lenses, picking up the paper. "Besides, I would never burn my Colwell books."
His eyebrows shot up as he watched her skim the headline that accompanied the article. Instantly, her eyes widened. "Are you sure about that? Want to re-think that answer?"
"You have to be kidding me," she whispered, now scanning the article quickly. The back door opened and the three missing men walked in, still laughing and brushing the snow off of them. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes moved rapidly from line to line.
“What’s with the ‘my dog was just shot’ look, or is it more of a ‘Austin just went through my underwear drawer and tacked every piece to the front door’ sort of look?” JC asked, reaching for the sharp edged spoon, digging a piece of pink grapefruit out of the rind for himself and chewing slowly.
Chris cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t steal Brooke’s breakfast, if I were you. At least, not this morning. This is beyond a Sam morning. She’ll kill anyone who looks at her the wrong way, I think.”
Her head shook slowly as the shock wore off. “Listen to this,” she said, reaching up to touch his sleeve.
“Fiancé’s Story Coming To Bookshelves
Everyone remembers the story that enveloped the nation into silence and disbelief for awhile. And it’s not even been a year since Brooklyn Turner’s publicist took the stage and announced that the country singer had been brutally attacked and almost killed by her then fiancé, Timothy Croft. About two months later, Turner came clean with her story on Oprah, making it one of the highest viewed interviews in the show’s history.
Now, Croft had decided to make his voice heard, and has contracted none other than Alex M. Colwell to write his story, and his side of what happened, according to an unnamed source. ‘Colwell will be in constant contact with Mr. Croft, and will be arranging interviews, notes, and little bits of information into book form towards the end of the month,’ the source said. ‘Colwell was against the idea at first. Then Mr. Croft’s name came up. There is no doubt that Alex M. Colwell will write this book.’
Colwell has enjoyed success from his two fictional novels about Cort Demers. The book, like ‘Mind’s Eye’ and ‘Broken Window’, will be published by Dell, and should be on bookstore shelves around this time next year. This will be the first non-fiction novel that Colwell has written.”
She stopped reading and looked up. “It’s like the bastard is still after me. I told the truth, so he’s going to tell his version of the truth and make it sound more believable. And he has a writer on his side. A writer that writes FICTION. Oh, this is great,” she complained, putting the paper back down. “I can’t believe him. This is...he’s up to his usual tricks. I can only imagine what this book is going to be like.”
JC shrugged and sat down in the chair beside her to dig another piece of grapefruit out. “You don’t sound THAT upset over it. A couple months ago, you would have been throwing things at my head, I suppose,” he said ruefully, managing to get that piece into his mouth as well without her noticing.
“I was expecting it, to tell the truth. I figured that as soon as I had done my interview, he would have wanted to do one of his own, to make up for it or something. It’s taken a long time for him to actually decide to do this. I guess he was just trying to find someone to write it.” She shrugged and picked up her spoon, playing with it for a moment. “I can’t wait until it comes out. I’m sure that it’s worth a laugh or two.”
They were all shocked beyond belief when she said those words. Chris was the only one that voiced the question that everyone had been thinking. “Wait, you mean you’re actually going to READ the damned book? I thought that you would have been out there with a big sign on a stick, telling people not to buy it, because he’s evil.”
Her eyes rolled and she swallowed her grapefruit. “Are you talking about Colwell or Tim?” When he told her both, she started to laugh. “Oh, I think he’s crazy, beyond a shadow of doubt, but Colwell...this is big money for him, and he hasn’t come out with a Demers book in awhile. It’s just like singing. If you don’t have a CD planned for marketing in awhile, you guest spot on someone’s CD just to get your name out there again. I don’t blame him whatsoever, but I do think that Tim is going to use every possible lie. And some that we’ve never thought before. It’ll be good reading material that will turn into a good fire starter.”
JC shook his head. “And here, I was worried that you were going to be pissed off about this. At least she’s not going to take this out of me.”
The spoon was just about to slide into her mouth when she raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I will. Trust me on that. I’ll take it out on you.” The spoon slipped in, and she smiled around it. “Later tonight, that is,” she mumbled around her mouthful and chuckled.
“Okay, that would be our cue to leave. Can I take the paper with me?” Chris asked, holding out his hand. She handed over both sections that she had, and grinned as everyone walked out of the kitchen, grumbling and complaining good naturedly about the couple. “Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me, Brooke.”
She shook her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Twice on the pipes if the answer is no,” she told him, completing the song quote. “You can bet that those sink pipes are going to be knocked on every ten seconds.” She looked over at JC and smiled. “Want to know the truth? I’d love to write Colwell a nasty letter, but I just don’t have it in me. I know that he has to do what he has to do. I just wish that it didn’t have to involve me.”
“Not everything goes your way, New York,” he told her, leaning forward to kiss her quickly. “Mm, you taste like grapefruit. I’m starting to like that more and more.”
A dazed smile overtook her face. “Yeah, you do, too.” Her eyes cleared and she stared at him for a minute. “Wait a minute...” she said slowly as he got up and started out of the kitchen. “That’s the last time that you eat my breakfast. Get your grapefruit stealing, pop singing, gorgeous butt back here!”
Chapter Seven
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