Chapter Ten
The eyes. That was what she had the problem with. Those damned eyes that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They were beautiful, almost too beautiful, and the color alone was just amazing. She had light brown eyes, eyes that never changed color, eyes that she hated. But those eyes were a dark brown most of the time, a sparkle that couldn’t be described hidden in them. The sparkle meant everything. Sometimes it was humor, sometimes intelligence. She’d even seen modesty and fear in them. A fierce playfulness, a strong passion for life.
They were eyes that were perfect in every way. The dark brown seemed to haunt her, but it was the color change that intrigued her. How easily they could go to a caramel color, and how that color depended on his mood. She had already learned that it was that passion for life that made them change. Maybe not just life, but any passion of his. When he described his friendship with Brooklyn, the change occurred, and she was breathless for a moment. They were...perfect.
Eyes that you could stare into for hours. Sometimes the type that you had to turn away from, if you didn’t want to see the truth. They held secrets, undiscovered talents and passion, and things that she would never be able to comprehend.
She hated the sound of romance. And the language used in romance novels...forget about it. It was complete drivel to her. She didn’t have a romantic bone in her body, let alone her fingers, that she could use to write with. His eyes, though, the most wonderful feature that Chris had...they brought forth that romantic language that she had never wanted to write with before. The one that she couldn’t write with, let alone being to think of. She was thinking of it now, though.
And the eyes were just a little piece of the full package that he seemed to be. She wondered how a person could be so damned perfect, and yet so...so...NOT perfect at the same time. He had his rough edges, his sharp points, and yet he was well-rounded, the kind of guy that most women dream of. Supportive to his friends, caring...sometimes even loving, kind, generous. He was everything and nothing all at once.
Sighing, Alex ran one hand through her hair as her mind began to work double time. He had a fire inside of him that she wanted to know about. A fire that she wanted to touch. Fire burns, she knew that, but it might be worth it.
Still, he was Chris. The same ignorant, almost repulsive man that she didn’t care all that much for. So why was she spending so much time with him? Why did she invite him over whenever he wanted to come, talk to him whenever he wanted to talk, sit across from him and stare into those damned eyes.
Maybe she was lonely and just wanted some kind of contact. Maybe there was something more between them, and they had just gotten off on the wrong foot. Maybe...no, she thought, shaking her head. There couldn’t be more there. For there to be more there would be like her as a child, wishing on a star for her mom to finally understand her and love her for who she was. Something that just wasn’t possible.
But what if there was. The thought ran through her head before she could stop it. There COULD be something else there, she just didn’t know what. And if there was, what would life be like then? Would either of them make a move or just leave it where it was. Would her life be better if someone made that move. Would her life be worse off. It was impossible to tell.
Her mind snapped back to present time, to what was actually happening. As usual, her CD player was going, playing her favorite mix CD, that she had made from the Internet and burned herself. The words at the end of the song playing had never meant anything to her now.
I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life
I know you’ll be a star
In somebody else’s sky, but why
Why, why can’t it be, why can’t it be mine
What if it was that simple. What if he was her star, her guiding light...and she just never knew it, never noticed it before.
God, now she was going off the deep end. She was turning into one of those women that she always made fun of. She was turning into someone like Brooklyn. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman down the road had thought something similar before, in a situation like this. Maybe with JC.
She didn’t want to be like her. Alex had been raised to be strong, be independent...not give into temptation. She never smoked, like her mother. The only time she drank was Christmas and New Years. She had even ‘just said no’ to drugs, and this is where she had come in life, after all that. After all the temptations and troubles she had in life, she was right back where she started. Would the temptations ever stop coming her way?
The CD player clicked and changed songs. She forced herself to listen so that she wouldn’t be thinking so much. Forced her mind to concentrate on the music. If only it was that easy when it came to writing now. Shaking her head, she pushed every thought of anything even REMOTELY associated with Chris, and just listened to the music.
She lies and says she’s in love with him
Can’t find a better man
She dreams in colors, she dreams in red
Can’t find a better man
With a groan, she dropped her head into her hands. Damn it, even music, her own salvation besides writing, was making her think of him. But the song brought another thought to mind, a new idea. Maybe that’s all she was doing. Catching the first lifeline that was tossed to her, not waiting for a closer one, or the one that would help her the most. It was like being put in front of a box of chocolates and being asked to pick between the chocolate covered cherry and the plain milk chocolate. There was no way that she would be able to choose.
So was he just someone that she was going to take because no one else wanted a part in her life, or was he something more than that?
And why was she even THINKING something like that? She had made it through her life just fine alone. Se had made it further than most would, without a physical relationship, or even an emotional one. All she needed in life was her computer, her fingers, and her mind. She didn’t need a man, or some sort of emotional attachment that would turn out to be fruitless, anyway. All she needed were Cort Demers, her contract, and her editor...though she could probably do without Kevin, too. She didn’t need Chris Kirkpatrick in her life.
A pop singer of all things! She was falling (maybe) for a boyband member? Someone who got on stage and jumped around, looking and sounding like an idiot, in her opinion. He did have a clear, beautiful voice, she reminded herself, remembering the one time she had heard him sing...but that wasn’t the damned point. The truth of the matter, the heart of the matter, was that she couldn’t get involved with someone like that. Not only did she hate to have her picture taken, but unless SHE decided to come out with the announcement of who Alex M. Colwell really was, she couldn’t let anything come out about her in the papers or on television. It would be too easy to link Alexandra Marie Colwell to the name of the famous novelist.
Rolling her eyes, she reached for the remote control to change the song. She needed something that wouldn’t make her think. Something that she could just listen to, and something that wouldn’t bring forth all these damned thought that were making her head spin worse than usual.
If only I could breathe
What you breathe
If only I could see what you see
Damn it!, her mind screamed. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to know what he thought, did she? Or maybe she did, now that she thought about it. If she knew the truth, then maybe it would be easier to deal with. Then she could make a decision...but she couldn’t just come right out and ask him. Of course not. Not only would it be too easy, and Alex never did anything the easy way, but it would be too obvious. Then he would know what was going through her mind.
And what if that turned him off. What if he didn’t think the same way that she did. Then, everything would be for nothing, and she most certainly wouldn’t have her secret weapon for writer’s block. Which she needed more than anything.
Shaking her head, she changed the song again, breathing a sigh of relief when Econoline Crush started to play, a song that didn’t affect her whatsoever. Something that wouldn’t make her mind run around in circles, only to come to the same conclusion.
I don’t know.
What a horrible thought, but it was a true thought. She didn’t know what was going to happen, she didn’t know IF anything was going to happen. For the first time, she wished that she had a crystal ball, something that could tell her what was to come in the future, because this wasn’t turning out too well. Sitting there, thinking about him, thinking about what may come or what may not...it was making her crazy. She was going to end up in a padded room after awhile.
The safest explanation, the safest decision was for her to just go back to her bitchy ways. To go back to her usual attitude. Nothing could hurt her. Nothing could affect her if she did that.
So why didn’t she want to?
She was plain, in a way, but she was beautiful. Plain, in his mind, because she wasn’t someone famous, and she wasn’t someone who really cared what she looked like. It seemed like her normal attire was a sweater and a pair of jeans, something that normally wouldn’t catch attention, but on her...everything caught his attention. He couldn’t help it if he always remembered little details and noticed things that most people wouldn’t.
She wasn’t like Brooklyn, who was what most people would call a stunning beauty. Someone who caught everyone’s eye when she walked by. A heart breaker without meaning to be one, not even noticing that it happened. Brooklyn was someone who could make a gunny sack look like the most beautiful dress in the world if she wore it. She was a trend setter. If she started using Tupperware as a purse, it would catch instantly. She was a role model for young girls, someone to admire for older women, and she definitely had the sex appeal for every male from teenagers to old men.
And Alex was different from Mia, as well. The exotic beauty that he had gotten to know slightly. She spent so much money on having her hair done, getting manicures, buying expensive, designer clothes so that people WOULD pay attention to her. She had to do everything big, everything different. She craved attention. For being someone that you normally wouldn’t know, someone who was supposed to be in the background, she was as well known as Brooklyn, and had even done her own interviews and been featured in magazines.
No, the woman down the road, Alex, was completely different. She seemed to shy away from attention, yet she tried to cause a commotion, tried to ruffle everyone’s feathers. She had plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, was a normal height and weight, dressed in mainly dark clothes...yet there was something about her. Something that seemed to scream at him.
Her attitude? That was definitely different and refreshing. Brooklyn was sarcastic to the point where you never knew if she was serious or not. Mia was purposely funny, like he used to be, years ago. Alex was purposely hateful, bitchy, sardonic...but when it got down to it, and actually got to know her, she didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. She didn’t strive to be funny, she didn’t strive to be anything but herself, which some people would find boring. He found it amazingly simple and gorgeous.
But did he really know her. There seemed to be so many different layers to her. Brooklyn had said that herself. She was the type of person that you probably never got to know. And if you did, you were damned lucky. She heavily guarded herself, like she had some deep dark secret that no one could know. He was sure, the moment that he found out what that secret was...if he ever did...his world would turn upside down and never be the same again. But she made sure that no one would get to know the REAL Alex unless she allowed it. Maybe she was letting him get to know the real person, the one that hid behind the mask of true bitchiness.
Then again, he could be completely off base. That was easy, and probably the only answer. He wasn’t a master at figuring things out. He was nowhere close to Sherlock Holmes or any other famous detective. He was a pop singer, not a private investigator. But he could put together different clues to make the picture seem a little more clear.
What he had put together so far hadn’t made sense, and he liked that. Maybe what his best friend had told him was the truth. He was in it for the mysteries, for the games. That made a sad, lonely existence, but it was something to occupy his mind. Then again...
There were a lot of ‘then again’s. Too many to count, but if he could work his way through them, maybe...just maybe, he could find an answer. The question was, if he found the answer, would it all be over, or would it be the start of something new. He was beginning to think that he had gotten into the wrong line of work. Maybe he should have been an archeologist, or like that television show, that he readily admitted to watching for the lead character and her beauty, a “relic hunter”. One and the same, yet so different.
He wasn’t plagued by her thoughts, like she was (though he didn’t know). He rather enjoyed staring off into space, lost in his thoughts. It was a comfort to him, knowing that it was one place he could always go, one thing that he could always do, where no one could hurt him or offend him. His thoughts were a part of him, more than a lot of people could understand. They were something that he could rely on, something that would always be there for him.
Did he want her in his life or not. That was a question that he had asked himself for the longest time, but he didn’t realize that it was too late to get an answer for that. She was already in his life, more than she could imagine. That’s the way he was. Once you caught his attention, managed to worm your way into his heart, you stayed exactly where you were. Very few people had actually lost their place in his life, and those who did had to do something major, something that completely pissed him off to the point of where murder would run through his head, and THAT was damned near impossible to do.
No, she was already in his life. But was he going to let her get in any further? It would be easy to stop her from getting any further. He had done it before, he could do it again. But maybe he WANTED her to be closer. Wanted her to be a substantial part of his life. If he did, he was going to have to start soon. Christmas was fast approaching, and he was heading back home. He didn’t know when he was coming back to the cabin, or how long Alex was going to be out here. If he remembered correctly, she was from Seattle, Washington. She lived in the northwest, he lived in the southeast. Too far away from each other.
It was definitely time to start. Start what...he didn’t know. But whatever it was, the wheels were in motion, and damned if he was just going to sit by and watch. That was the whole reason of why he got off his bed, left the wonderful silence and peace of his bedroom to walk down the stairs, rounding into the living room. There was always someone down there, and the television was almost always on. They rarely got the chance to sit down and watch one of their favorite shows. Whenever vacation rolled around, all six of them were usually glued to it, taking in everything they could, whether they liked the show or not.
“No, you’re completely wrong,” he heard Brooklyn say, sounding almost defensive. “JT is really Issac, and Issac is really JT. Therefore, Lexi has Hope’s kid, whose father is John. Hope has Lexi and Abe’s kid, who’s actually Marlowe and Glen’s kid. To top it all off, Belle and Shawn are dating. Belle is John’s daughter, Shawn is Hope’s son. So, they’re going out AND they have a half brother between them. Now, was that so hard and confusing? No.”
He rolled his eyes and came up behind them. “But how are Belle and Brady related then, and why is his first name the same as Bo’s last name?”
“Justin...okay, fine, I’m only explaining this ONE MORE TIME. Belle and Brady are half brother and sister. Brady’s mom is Isabella, who’s dead, but his dad is John. Belle, who’s named after Isabella, is Marlena and John’s kid. As for Brady’s name...he was born when John thought that he was Roman Brady, who is Bo’s brother, or half brother, or something like that, Marlena’s first husband, and so they named their kid Brady, after his last name. And before you ask, Sami is Isabella’s and John’s kid, as is Carrie.”
“Wait...who the hell is Carrie? I’ve never heard about her before!”
Chris laughed from behind, listening to JC and Brooklyn try and explain the complicated soap opera to him. Crossing his arms, he rested against the back of the couch. “Wait until they start in on who Greta and Chloe’s father is.”
“Both of their father’s are Stefano.”
JC turned his girlfriend. “So not true. Stefano is Chloe’s dad, but JOHN is Greta’s father. Don’t even start in on that stupid idea. Chloe and Greta aren’t half sisters. There’s no possible way.”
“Then how do you explain John being the father of half of Salem?” she shot back, scowling at him.
Shaking his head, Chris groaned. “If ONE thing can set the two of you off, it’s this damned show. Anyway, I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”
Justin looked up at him. “As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with this, I’ll be happy. I don’t know how they can keep this all straight.”
“Obsession, boredom, and the Internet,” he answered for the couple. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Justin, or Days of Our Lives. I just wanted to know if you two are going out for dinner again this weekend. In Aspen,” he added, when he saw their confused looks.
With a smile, Brooklyn turned down the television when a new commercial started and looked up at him. “I think we are, but we haven’t made reservations yet. Are you asking to come along, or did you just want to know when you could have your ritual sacrifice to the God of Pop Music. Planning on offing a few teenies?”
With a nod, he grinned. “I thought I’d save us all a few headaches from their screams, and get on His good side,” he said sarcastically. “Of course I wanted to come with you. Why else would I ask? Like I want to be involved in your lives. It’s bad enough to hear you two talk about sex and break off in the middle of the conversation so that you don’t offend anyone, or let us find out any kinky details, although JC tells us whatever we need to know.”
She shot him a nasty look. “Oh, you do, do you?”
“He’s kidding. I swear it, New York. I never said a word about ANYTHING. Really, I didn’t.”
Chris grinned evily from behind him. “Deny it too many times, and you sound guilty,” he sang, with a gleeful laugh before looking at Brooklyn. “So, are you going to make the reservations?”
She nodded before turning away from JC with a huff. “Yeah. Two hotel rooms and three for dinner. No problem. Now, go away. If you’re going to make fun of my show, I don’t want you near me. Go back up to your room and read your latest Playboy magazine.”
He started away, and then stopped suddenly. “No, Brooke. THREE rooms, and FOUR for dinner. I need to bring someone with me so that the two of you don’t kill me.” He walked away before he could see her reaction. Which, he didn’t know, was more shocked than he would have liked. In fact, she didn’t like the idea at all, but how was he to know that? He was too wrapped up in his life and what he was going to do about Alex to know what she knew. Or what she thought she knew, which was wrong slightly.
But just slightly.
A sense of dread no longer filled her as she walked towards the cabin towards the end of the road. Now, Alex didn’t mind going there at all. Maybe it had something to do with Chris, and what she had been thinking recently, maybe it had something to do with the fact that she tolerated Brooklyn now...but only to a degree. Too much exposure to a happy-go-lucky woman like that would make her head explode.
She didn’t even bother to knock on the door anymore. When Chris had called, he told her to just walk in. They were used to people just walking into their houses now, he had explained, that it didn’t bother them anymore. It didn’t bother them to come home and see someone in their house, either. According to him, they all had keys to everyone else’s house, just in case. Maybe one day, she thought, she would have a key to his place.
That made her blush and want to smack herself. Did she care whether or not there was an open invitation to his house...wherever it may be. Orlando, wasn’t it, she asked herself. Like it mattered. Taking a deep breath, she let the flush drain from her face, leaving her with her usual light skin before she rounded the corner from the foyer into the kitchen, where she heard voices.
“As much as I love you, Josh...you owe me fifty bucks. Pay up, sucker,” she heard Brooklyn say, before she giggled in delight. Frowning, Alex wondered what kind of bet they had made before she looked closer and saw a Monopoly board open on the table, all of them around the table. It seemed like only Brooklyn, JC, Joey, and Lance were playing. Both Chris and Justin had obviously opted not to play, but they were watching, for what reason, she couldn’t figure out. That was, until Joey picked up the dice and rolled, moving his piece until he landed on Free Parking. They played by different rules, their own rules, she discovered, as he picked up all the money in the center of the board to add to his pile, and Justin, playing the role of the banker, put another five hundred dollar bill where the money had been.
Brooklyn was the closest and punched him hard enough on the arm to make even Alex wince at the sight of it. “What was that for?” he asked innocently, even though everyone could tell that he was trying hard not to laugh as he rubbed his arm.
“You bastard. I’m going to kick your ass.” Her eyes narrowed as she picked up the dice, rolling quickly. Her head moved when she noticed Alex standing there, and gave her a wave, although, if she paid closer attention, she would have noticed that it was half-hearted. “Hey, come on in. Don’t mind us, we got a little bored.” She gestured to the board to finish off her words.
She nodded. “So I noticed. The hard-core version of Monopoly. Scary thought.”
“There’s no love in war, cards, and board games. We don’t take anything seriously, but we love to cause a few bruises, isn’t that right, LANCE, who managed to kick me in the same place, three times, and cause one mother of a bruise when we played Uno a couple weeks ago? Which, by the way, I’m still going to get you back.”
Chris rolled his eyes and looked up at her. “Hey. Did you want something to drink? They have no manners when they play board games. All they care about is causing bodily harm on each other.”
“I’m guessing that’s the reason that you opted not to play,” she said with a slight smile, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She didn’t like to be around so many people at once and try to remember what lies they had heard, and if someone heard something different. “A soda would be fine. Don’t bother getting up, though. I can get one.”
Ignoring her words, and the exclamations over someone landing on someone’s property that had houses on it, he got up and went to the fridge to get two cans of pop. She noticed, with a faint smile, that they had bought generic soda instead of brand names. It was cheaper, but she knew, without a doubt, that all of them had money to burn and then some. “Justin, take over for me. I’m getting out of here before they start throwing chairs and tables.”
Motioning with his head, he silently told Alex to follow him as he left the kitchen and went up the stairs. She had been all over the bottom floor the night that she had come for dinner, but she had never been upstairs and seen those rooms. She knew that they were nothing but bedrooms and bathrooms, but she was curious to see if they had been decorated like hers were, or if Brooklyn had decorated them herself, with her favorite colors and patterns.
He opened the door to one of the bedrooms and allowed her to go in. Looking around, she knew that it had to be his room. It practically screamed Chris. The sweater that was laying on the floor beside the closet was his, she had seen him wear it before. The little things, books and magazines, all seemed to be his favorites, what he liked to read. The CDs were ones that he liked to listen to. The only thing that didn’t look right was the fact that the bed was made. “Brooke forced me to make my bed today. I have no idea why, but I guess it was a good thing that I did.”
She took the can of soda from him, only after he opened it, and took a small sip. “This room definitely looks cooler than mine. The color scheme doesn’t seem to suit you, but it still looks good.”
“Brooke’s sister-in-law decorated this place for her. This room ad the master bedroom was done in blue, since it’s her favorite color. Uh, Brooke’s, not her sister-in-law’s.” He had no clue what was going on with the incessant chatter, the babble that was coming from his mouth. It just didn’t make sense, even to him, and if it would make sense to one person, it should have been the person that was speaking all the crap. And that’s what it was. Crap. Coming out of his mouth. God, if there was ever a time to slap himself in the head and curse the day he was born, this was it.
And why the hell was he feeling so damned nervous? It wasn’t like he was proposing marriage or anything like that. Not even close. It was a simple question, for a simple task. Was that why he could feel his hands start to sweat? And he hated that feeling. It was like he was being transported back to high school. It was time to ask out that pretty junior again, when he was a freshman.
And damn, if he remembered, he was shot down and laughed at.
“Chris? Are you okay?” Alex asked softly, trying to catch his attention, even though she felt bad for breaking him out of his thoughts. She could tell that he was thinking about something. He had that faraway look on his face, the same one that she got all the time when she was writing. That was one look that she would be able to recognize instantly.
Even the smile on his face seemed a little far off. Like it didn’t belong in the world, but somewhere else. The smile of an angel, the smile of someone who seemed heavenly. “Sorry, I don’t...never mind. I’m sure you don’t want to know.” He started to move finally, towards the over stuffed arm chair in the corner, the same dark blue that matched the bedding and curtains of the room. He picked up a book from the arm, and looked at it curiously before folding over the corner of the page he had been reading, and threw it towards the bed, making it land beside Alex. “Sorry, I just don’t want to forget where I put it. I was hoping to finish it tonight.”
Her eyes went towards the books and her eyes widened when she saw it. Dear Lord, that was HER book. The one that she had wrote, the one that she had spent many sleepless nights at the computer over. The one that had put her name in literary history for at least the next ten years, if not life. The first Cort Demers she had ever written, and the cover...he hoped to hell that he didn’t notice. Not the name on the cover, because that was all right. The actual cover, the picture on the cover...because that would be the dead giveaway. He would know everything then. Why the hell could he have had the hard cover version of the book, the one that didn’t have THAT particular cover.
He had seen her eyes grow larger, she knew that. She could feel his eyes on her, and she had to cover up the slip somehow. She couldn’t leave it hanging like that. That would be like breaking off in the middle of a joke and never telling the punch line. He would keep pushing until he got his answer. Isn’t that what people always did? “I...didn’t know that you were a fan of his. Or did you tell me before.” Did he? She couldn’t remember.
“Actually, I’m not too sure,” he said. That easy going smile, the one that he usually wore, was the one on his face now. Not the one that had made him seem like he was in another country, another land...on another planet. “I might have. Why, do you read his stuff, too?”
If he only knew. “Who doesn’t read Colwell, as far as I’m concerned.” That was conceit, plain and simple, but he would never know, because he would never know who she is. “It’s a... great book, huh? What did you think of it?” That was a trick that she pulled constantly if she found out that someone had read her books. It was always good for a little ego boost, and no one had said anything unflattering as of yet. Her record was still perfect, and she was sure that he was going to keep that record for her.
“It was great. I mean, when you compare it to the second book, it doesn’t seem like anything special, but I guess everyone needs to start somewhere. If you could have heard some of the tracks that I sa...played on, you’d probably wonder what kind of drug I was on.” He ended flatly, and he stuttered in the center of the sentence. Chris wondered why he couldn’t be as good as Brooklyn at lying, the queen of lying in his opinion. Maybe that was a good thing, that he couldn’t compare to her. He didn’t want to. He always abhorred lying, and now he was the one that was spreading them. He had no choice, though. They had started playing the game, and they couldn’t just quit half way through, even if they were losing or not. You had to see it through to the end. “Are you okay? You look like someone just shot your dog.”
Smiling faintly, she looked down at her soda can, licking the sugar off of her lips. It took all the restraint in his body not to just stare at her as she did that, stare like some creepy old man staring at a Penthouse magazine. “I don’t have a dog, but thanks for the concern,” she said lightly. It didn’t match the look in her eyes, the look on her face. “I’m just surprised. I never heard anything but praise for his work before, so it’s strange to hear someone say something like that.”
With a shrug, Chris leaned back in the chair and brought up his feet, curling into it. Being swallowed by the cushions, he looked almost like a little child, waiting for his mom or dad to walk over there, kiss him on the head, and tell him that they loved him. It was adorable in her eyes, and it was just another little piece of the complicated puzzle of Chris Kirkpatrick. “I didn’t say it wasn’t good, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that if you asked me to pick between the first book and the second one, I’d pick Broken Window over Mind’s Eye any day.” With a pause, he looked at her and narrowed his eyes. The feeling that he was going to mention the cover of the book, that DAMNED cover that she hated, and ask her the question that she had been dreading ever since the paperback version came out. “Let me guess, you’re a strong believer of Mind’s Eye over Broken Window.”
With a happy laugh, one of relief that he hadn’t mentioned it, she nodded. “Without a doubt. Nothing can ever compare to the first book, really. There’s nothing wrong with the second one, but that first one made the author who he is today.”
“Whoever he may be,” he added with a chuckle. “That’s why everyone and their brother got hooked on the books. The whole mystery within the mystery. I’ll even admit to that’s the reason that I picked up the first book. It’s not really the type of stuff that I like to read, but it’s great. Hooked me almost instantly.”
Damn it, did he have to sing her praises, she thought to herself. It was cool to know that he liked the books, but if was going to go on and on like this, it just wasn’t going to work. Flattery was all right, but an over abundance over it...it practically sickened her. She wasn’t THAT vain to believe every word she heard about her talent, but sometimes, people went over the top. Like he was doing. The whole “number one fan” syndrome. That was disgusting. “
“Mind if I put on a CD?” she asked, completely changing the rhythm that they had started for the conversation. He gestured to the stacks of discs that he had put on the top of the desk in the corner, only their titles showing on the sides of the cases. She walked over to them and started to pursue the titles. Her eyebrows raised slightly before she turned to look at him. “Brooklyn Turner? Isn’t that country music?” she asked.
Chris could tell from her voice that she knew full well who she was. The only thing that she didn’t know was that the very woman was sitting downstairs, most likely trying to bribe Joey out of Park Place so that she would finally have a monopoly. “Yeah. It’s the only country music that I’ll actually listen to. Josh is a big fan of it now, and he kind of got me into her.” Holy hell, his mind screamed at him, He was actually telling the truth for once. JC HAD been the one to get him into Brooklyn’s music. Telling the truth had been a first for most of the conversation.
Luckily, she just nodded and finally slipped a disc out of the rest of them. He held his breath, hoping that it wasn’t Brooklyn’s CD, or worse, one of theirs, which he also had in his collection, like any other recording artist would. Instead, he saw the familiar Limp Bizkit cover and sighed lightly, as she put the disc in his player and turned it on, skipping past the intro until she came to the first song. “So, anyway, you said that you wanted to ask me a question. Not that you couldn’t over the phone.”
He waved his hand. “I hate the phone. It’s so impersonal. Believe me, when you’re on the road as much as I am, traveling with a band or something, the phone is the only way to connect you to the people that you love the most, and it’s just not the same as talking face to face. I try not to do anything other the phone, if I can.”
Half of her wanted to say that she knew he was part of NSYNC, and that the reason that he was on the road wasn’t to play the guitar in a back up band, but rather to be center stage and jump around like he had a stick shoved up his ass. The other half of her told her to shut up, and amazingly, that was the side that won the battle. “I understand. But you’re staying away from the subject, you know.”
“No, I’m not. I just wanted to know if you could do me a favor.” He was asking her to do him a favor? That sounded ridiculous, but she listened anyway, motioning for him to go on. “Josh and Brooke asked me to go into town with them next weekend. They usually got out for dinner on the weekends, and spend the night in one of the hotels, so that they don’t have to drive back at night. I said yes, and then I realized that if I did go, I’d be stuck with them the whole time. It’s the whole third wheel thing, I think. Anyway, I figured that if you came with us, I wouldn’t have to worry about that. I’d also have an excuse to ditch them, too,” he added with a laugh.
Eyeing him suspiciously, she tried to make heads or tails of the situation. He wanted her to go out to dinner with them, wanted her to spend the night in Aspen, when she could work (but if he wasn’t around, then she couldn’t get him mad enough to aggravate him, so that she COULD work). She also needed to start work on the autobiography, the “true story as told to” book on Tim Croft soon, before her editor would throw a hissy fit. If she went into town, then she couldn’t do that. She had to say no.
“Sure. Just tell me when and where.”
The first portion of a song used was the end of Black by Pearl Jam. The second little piece of song was Better Man by Pearl Jam (are you seeing a trend? It’s my new/old favorite band). The third part of a song was Breathe by Moist, and there was a mention of Econoline Crush, a Canadian rock/alternative band. Oh, and I own no part of Monopoly. That’s all Parker Bros., not me.
Chapter Eleven
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