Escorting the Actress by Leigh James
Kyle
"You wanna dosomething different today?"
"Like what?" she asked, peering at me over her coffee mug.
This was one of my favorite times of day. We were in her kitchen, having coffee, so her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She was adorable, and it was becoming a real problem.
"Something… fun," I said, grinning. "The most fun. That doubles as a great photo opportunity."
She grinned back, even though I felt certain it was in spite of herself. "How can I say no to that?"
"You can't. So go get dressed. Wear something casual, with sneakers. I'll meet you at the front door in ten."
Ten minutes later, she came out in a tank top, baseball hat, and denim shorts, her long legs tanned and gleaming. I just stared.
"What?" she said, blushing underneath the brim of her hat.
"You're sort of cute," I admitted.
"Well, thank you. Sort of." She smiled and grabbed my hand; it had almost become automatic for us. "Where are we going?"
"Not telling." We went through the door and greeted the throng of photographers.
"Are we headed to the gym? The usual?" one of the photographers asked, scratching his head and yawning.
"Nope," I answered. "We're mixing it up today."
"Where are you going?"
I beamed as I hustled her to the car. "I can't tell you—I'm surprising Lowell. But so we don't lose you and end up causing an accident with some sort of high-speed chase, I will tell you that we're headed to Anaheim."
They perked up a little.
"Are you going to you-know-where?" one of them asked.
I grinned. "Exactly."
"Cool!"
"Awesome!"
"See ya there!"
I got into the car, and Lowell was scowling at me.
"Where the heck is you-know-where?" she asked. "And why does everybody besides me know where that is?"
"'Cause you don't get out much." I threw the car into drive.
"No way!" Lo exclaimed as we turned down Disneyland Drive. "No, sir!"
"Yes way. Yes, sir." I looked at her face as I got in line to pull into the quickly filling lot. She looked excited, looking up at the Tower of Terror in the distance. "Do you… like Disneyland?"
"I've never been here," she said breathlessly. She looked like a young girl again, all full of hope and unrealized potential.
"Never?"
She shook her head. I would have been surprised, but I couldn't really picture Caroline Barton on a roller coaster, getting her hair messed up, or waiting in line with a bunch of tourists. That was surely beneath her.
"It's fun," I said. "We used to fly down here sometimes for the weekend when I was younger. My mom loved it." I felt Lo watching my face.
"What was she like?"
I parked and looked at her before tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "She was awesome." I smiled from just thinking about my mother. "She would be happy I'm here. I hadn't even thought of coming back, but it popped into my head this morning."
I grabbed Lo's hand, lacing our fingers, after we got out of the car and headed for the tram to take us into the park.
"Hey, Kyle, wait for us!" called Alex, one of the photographers.
I looked back at him, momentarily caught off guard. I'd been so excited about surprising Lo, I'd completely forgotten about them on the ride over here.
And yet, I'd already been holding her hand.
It wasn't just for show anymore, and I knew in my gut that spelled trouble for me. Big trouble. Still, I smiled at the photographers easily, then I decided to forget about them for the rest of the day. Today was about me and Lo.
For better or for worse.
We wenton all the rides.
"Can we do it again?" she asked when we got off Space Mountain.
I grinned at her. "You liked that?"
She grinned back. "I loved it."
So we went again. And again. We stayed until the sky was dark. I kept my arm around her the whole day, and neither of us stopped smiling. In the back of my mind, I knew the paparazzi were taking pictures of us, but I didn't care. We posed with Goofy, and I took a selfie.
Because I wanted it. For me. For later, when I was alone again.
We watched the fireworks from a gondola on Mickey's Fun Wheel.
"The Ferris wheel kinda reminds me of my career," Lowell joked when we reached the top. "It goes up, up, up, then it goes down, down, down." She laughed.
"I don't think that's just your career—I think that's life in general." I pulled her to me and nestled her against my shoulder.
"No one's in here with us," she whispered. "Even if they have a zoom lens, they probably can't see us up here."
"So?" I asked.
"So"—she sat up and away from me—"we don't have to sit that close together."
I pulled her back, feeling hot and needy and confused. "Just because we don't have to doesn't mean that we shouldn't. Or that we can't."
She leaned into me and looked up at me, making my heart stop. "But we shouldn't. And we can't." She smiled sadly.
I kissed the top of her head and just held her. The jumble of feelings was replaced by a dull ache. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I had a bad feeling I was about to find out.
Later, I walked Lo formally to her bedroom door.
"G'night," I said.
She smiled, but it was a tired smile. "Good night, Kyle. Thank you for today. It was awesome."
"It was awesome." I stood over her, wanting to put my arms around her, wishing the press was in here so I had an excuse to touch her. To kiss her.
She held my gaze. Just once, I wanted to run my hands down her whole body. Take her clothes off and press my face against her naked skin. Feel what it was like to see her light up underneath me. Make her moan in pleasure.
"Well, good night," she said again, seeming flustered. "See ya in the morning." She pushed past me and closed the door immediately.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Or not. Sighing, I headed back to my room, where I could at least jerk off and find some release.
But I knew that wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't be nearly enough.
Ugh,I thought, collapsing on my bed. This is what having feelings is like.
Frustrated, I padded back to Lo's room. She had to be feeling what I was feeling—at least some of it. When I got there, I promptly lost my nerve. I just stood outside her door, wanting to knock.
For an hour.
I had to respect her boundaries, even as I wanted to crash through them to take her in my arms. I gave up and went back to bed, not even bothering to masturbate. I wanted to feel her next to me. Nothing else would satisfy me.
I fell into a fitful sleep, cursing my attempts at being a responsible adult. Being a responsible adult was exhausting and lonely.
I was starting to lose hope, and that dull ache was back. If Disneyland wasn't going to work on her, what the hell was?
The next morning, we were allbusiness.Gym, Jamba, lunch. Neither of us spoke about the day before.
Lo wasn't looking at me, and I was too ashamed to look at her. It was as if we'd crossed some sort of line, and although there was no going back, there was no going forward, either.
After lunch, we set up camp in her living room. She was checking email, and I was catching up on the XYZ site when my phone buzzed. It was a text from my father.
I want you to come up and meet with me,he wrote. I have an offer for you.
I can't,I wrote back.
Find a way to make it work. Charge the tickets to my account. I'll see you tomorrow,he wrote. He texted me his credit card numbers, which was an act so out of character that I sat there, stunned. I hadn't seen him in so long. I felt as though this was an offer I couldn't refuse. Sighing, I looked up to find Lo watching my face.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
I held up my phone. "My father wants to talk to me. In person. Tomorrow. In Boston."
She blew out a deep breath, looking worried. "What does he want?"
"He says he has an offer for me. I think I should hear him out, but I don't know how that's gonna work right now…"
"I'll go with you," Lowell said. "I mean, if that's okay."
I smiled at her. "Of course it's okay." I didn't want to be away from her for a minute.
"We can make it look like a sexy getaway. Which hopefully won't push your father over the edge."
I grinned, trying to make light of the heaviness between us. "You had me at sexy."
"Stop," she said, looking back at her screen. "I'll have Tori take care of the tickets and the hotel. How many nights should we go for?"
"Three?" I asked. "I've never been to Boston."
"Me either."
"Then let's be tourists while we're there. The photographers probably won't follow us, so we'll have to take a ton of selfies to keep everybody happy."
"I'll let Lucas and Shirley know what's going on," Lowell said.
I nodded. "And I think we should go out tonight. Yesterday was a huge success. If we're gonna be out of town for a couple of days, we need to leave them with plenty of material."
"You mean go to dinner?"
"I mean go to dinner then go out. Get all dressed up and go to a nightclub."
Lowell wrinkled her nose at me. "I don't go to nightclubs."
"I know. Which is why we should."
Lowell shook her head. "I don't want to project a party-girl image after what I did."
"That makes sense, but I think the press needs to see you out at night, looking hot." I watched her face. "You can be a good role model by enjoying yourself responsibly."
She looked as though she was struggling with the idea of the club, but then she nodded. "While people still care."
Not caring about her seemed impossible.
"Works for me," I said and started counting the minutes until I could hold her tight little body on the dance floor.
She came out in a short, skin-tight black dress and black booties. I almost passed out.
"Is this okay? Or is it too slutty?" she asked.
"It's perfect."
She looked tentatively pleased. "Really? You'd tell me, right? I'm used to having my stylist do all this. Okay, my stylist is Tori, but still."
"Skype her," I said, pointing at her laptop. "She'll approve, I swear it."
Lowell went over to her computer and fired it up. After clicking away for a few seconds, she smiled at the screen. "Tori? How are you? I miss you!"
In spite of my protests, Lowell hadn't allowed a single person from her inner circle to meet me. Not Tori, not Shirley, and I hadn't even glimpsed that Gigi with the long legs again. Lowell had been working with them all from her laptop at home. She was protecting me like Fort Knox. I wasn't sure if she was keeping me away from everyone because she wanted to shield me, or because she was embarrassed by me, or because she thought somehow one of them would be able to tell that I used to be her stepbrother—just by looking at me in person.
But Tori knew who I was. And yet Lowell still wouldn't let me meet her.
"Oh my fucking God, Lo!" A voice that must have belonged to Tori screamed from the computer. "I saw the pictures from Disneyland—that was so cute—and Kyle is so hot! I can't believe he's your stepbrother. That sucks so hard!I swear, you two look like you were made for each other! Holy freaking—"
"Enough," Lo shrieked. "Kyle's right here!"
Hmm. Maybe this was why she'd kept us apart.
"Oh geez, I'm sorry!" Tori wailed, and I tried not to laugh as Lo adjusted her dress and tried not to die of embarrassment. "Is he still right there?"
"Yesss," Lo said through gritted teeth.
"Oops." Tori promptly stopped talking.
"Can you check my outfit before I go out for the night?" Lo asked, sounding defeated.
"Your dress looks wicked hot," Tori said, regaining her enthusiasm. "I was there when you picked that out, remember? We went shopping for slutty clothes so you could finally get over your dry spell? Well, this is it! That dress screams sex!"
Lo glared at the computer screen, her shoulders rising and falling as she tried to maintain her composure.
"He's still right there, isn't he," Tori squeaked, not bothering to make it a question. "I'm so sorry. I'm just excited!"
"Oh, I can tell you're excited. Everyone can."
"You do look wicked hot," I called from across the room.
"Is that him?" Tori squealed. "Is he always that nice? It sounds like he really likes you!"
Lo looked absolutely livid. "Tori, I'm assuming from everything you've said that you approve of my dress. As my stylist, do I have your permission to go out like this?"
"As your stylist, I absolutely approve of that dress. Go forth and have fun." It sounded as if Tori was trying to be serious.
"As my best friend, do you understand that I'm totally pissed at you and I'm going to hang up now?" Lo asked.
"As your best friend, I thoroughly understand your position."
"One more thing—Kyle and I are heading to Boston tomorrow. He has a meeting. Can you deal with the travel arrangements for me?"
"Ooooh, an east coast getaway!"
Lo glared at the computer screen, and Tori stopped.
She cleared her throat. "Of course," Tori said primly, pretending to be all business. "I can take care of that." She cleared her throat again. "But do you acknowledge that you have to call me tomorrow morning and tell me everything?"
Lo smiled indulgently. "Of course I'll call you tomorrow. You're still my BFF." She closed the computer and looked at me. "Sorry about that. Tori gets a little… excited for me sometimes."
"Someone who's rooting for you is my kind of gal. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her, but I'm looking forward to it." I grinned at her. Her face was still flushed, but she looked as though she was trying to pull herself together. "Are you ready for our fabulous evening out, princess?"
"Only if you stop calling me princess."
"Okay, boss," I said and reached for her hand.
She took a deep breath. "Oh, I don't want to do this. I really hate clubs."
"I got you." I squeezed her hand and tried to calm her. "Let's just do this tonight, and we can leave tomorrow for Boston. We'll hide out there."
"But you know what we're going to there is probably just as bad as what we're leaving."
I nodded. "Actually, my dad is definitely worse than these guys." I jerked my thumb toward the window.
Lowell grimaced and nodded. "Oh, I remember." She looked miserable. "Can't we just put on our sweats and watch a movie tonight?"
I smiled and rubbed her hand gently, trying to calm her down. "I would love to do that, but we need to strike while the iron is hot. Think about Lucas. Think about Ellie, with her little headset. She's rooting for you."
She nodded, resigned and clearly gathering her courage. "Okay. Okay."
Of course, the press went nuts when they got a look at her. "Lowell! You look gorgeous!"
"Is that dress a statement about looking great at any size?" asked Katie from XYZ, who was headed directly to the top of my "To Punch" list.
I stopped dead in my tracks. "Are you kidding me? Did you actually just say that?"
Katie managed to look a little abashed but not enough for my liking. "I thought that after what she said the other day about being a healthy role model, this dress was some sort of statement."
She looked at us expectantly. She knew full well that Lowell still couldn't afford to say no comment or, worse, have an outburst.
Lowell gave Katie a brave smile. "This dress is totally a statement piece. Guess what this statement is?"
A million flashes went off.
"I'm guessing the real statement is geared at Katie and that it's unprintable," I whispered into Lowell's ear.
"You got that right," she whispered back. "Someday, I'll tell her what I really think. Just not today." She sounded resigned.
"What's the statement, Lowell?" everyone asked.
"That being healthy and happy is being beautiful," she said.
"You are beautiful," one of the male reporters said. "And I bet you're going to get some great endorsement offers because of your awesome attitude. You go, girl!"
The other reporters looked at him as if he had three heads.
"If it's still okay to say that," he called sheepishly.
"I appreciate all your support," Lowell said. "See you at El Campo!"
"Thank you, Lowell!"
"Thank you so much!"
"I wish everyone kept us posted about their whereabouts like you two do. It makes things so much easier!"
Lowell smiled at them like a queen, then she strutted to the car with her head held high. I watched Katie, another sour look on her face, watching Lowell.
Lowell sighed, and her face relaxed into a scowl once we were safely inside the confines of the tinted windows. "This is exhausting."
"Good thing you're good at it," I offered.
"You're the one who's good at it. Thanks for sticking up for me back there."
"That Katie…"
"Oh, that Katie…" Lowell agreed.
"She'll get hers someday," I said confidently. "I'll make sure of it."
I made Lowell eather dinner, and I made her drink her wine.
"Relax," I said. "You want to project a healthy body image? Eat, for Christ's sake. Then get up and go back to the gym with me tomorrow. You burned, like, five thousand calories today."
Lo sighed and pushed the food around on her plate. "I don't want Lucas to freak out." She took a sip of wine, looking guilty.
"Fuck Lucas. He can't fire you unless you break the contract terms, right?"
She nodded warily.
"So what do the contract terms actually state?" I asked.
"That I have to be 'fit enough to undertake the action sequences in the film,'" she recited.
"What sort of action is it?"
"Running on a beach. I also have to jump into the back of a moving Jeep." She chewed and looked thoughtful. "I think I have to sprint down a bridge too. Maybe climb some rock walls. They were talking about adding in some stuff like that."
"So every day at the gym from now on, we sprint. We run, jump, and climb. You'll show Lucas exactly how dedicated you are."
"Awesome," she said, finally breaking down and eating her food. "Just awesome."
"Anything but the club," Lowell whined, dragging her heels. "I don't even know what to do in a club. I don't dance, I shouldn't be drinking hard liquor, and you and I don't know anybody."
"Even better," I said, pulling her toward the velvet rope. "C'mon. They're watching us, you know." I looked up at the handful of photographers who'd followed us. "We're taking one for the team."
"The team freaking owes me by this point." Lowell sounded weary, but she had her game face on, beaming at all the other club-goers and the photographers.
The club was packed, but the hostess magically produced a table for us anyway.
"I can only do this for fifteen minutes," Lo said, looking at all the undulating bodies on the dance floor and the beautiful people dancing on tables. "This is silly."
"Do you think the photographers can get in here?" I asked, looking around.
She wrinkled her nose. "No. Gigi said the shots of us coming and going were the most important. Since they already have one of us coming, do you think we can get that 'going' picture now?"
"We don't have to stay long. But any one of these people could take our picture." I motioned with my chin to the crowd around us. "So… do you wanna dance? Just once?" I already knew the answer.
"Absolutely not. I already told you that."
I put my hand on her wrist and pulled her up. "Just once."
She looked at me miserably. "I can't dance to this type of music."
I dragged her onto the crowded dance floor and carved out a small space for us. "You don't have to do anything. Just follow my lead."
I wrapped my arms around her, swayed in time to the throbbing hip-hop beat, and moved her with me. She moved easily and elegantly.
"See?" I asked, leaning down. "You don't give yourself enough credit."
She frowned and shook her head, looking embarrassed.
I wrapped my body around hers, protecting her and moving her more urgently to the music. Heat radiated through me as I felt her body against mine. I pulled her tighter against me, where I'd been aching to have her. My body notched against hers, and she pressed back against me. Lowell's body was saying one thing, but when she looked up at me, her face looked guilty. I knew her head was saying something else entirely.
I ran my thumb across her bottom lip, stroking it. Her eyes met mine, and I leaned down and kissed her slowly.
She pulled back almost immediately. "Kyle, stop."
A yearning grew so fierce inside me that it was almost scary. But I took a deep breath and pushed the heavy feeling away. "Okay, boss." Trying to make light of it, I smiled and pulled her back to me. "But at least dance with me for the rest of the song."
She frowned, then she rested her head on my chest. I ran my hands over her, guiding her to the music and wishing desperately that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
It was honestly the first time in my life I'd ever felt this way—unsure.
We smiledfor the cameras and didn't say a word on our way home.
Later, back on her couch, I looked at the latest pictures of us together and tried to forget what it had felt like to have her body pressed against mine.
"We look so good together," I said, slurring from all the champagne I'd drank at the club after she rebuffed me.
Lowell leaned over me and looked at the pictures. "I know. It's ironic, isn't it?"
"Why's that?" I asked, facing her.
"Because we're pretending. And because we couldn't ever actually be together." She sounded as though she was forcing her voice to sound neutral and matter-of-fact. But her eyes were searching mine, as if she wondered if I agreed.
"Why not?" I asked, sitting up. I was suddenly alert, the slurring erased from my speech.
"Because we're related. That's why we shouldn't have been dancing like that. It's not okay."
"We aren't related," I said hotly, watching her face. "We weren't ever related."
"Close enough." She shrugged.
"If we actually wanted to be together, we could, you know." I felt a knot forming in my stomach as I waited to hear what she'd say.
She shook her head. "Not really. We lived together when we were kids—that makes it icky. Besides, your father hates me. And my mother hates you."
"So what? Icky is subjective. I don't think it's icky. And I don't care what either of our parents have to say." Again, I waited on edge to see what she'd say. I felt like a lovesick teenager, and I'd never even been a lovesick teenager.
You've got all the cards, Lo. Show me one.Not having the upper hand sucked balls.
She just looked at me, as if she wanted to ask me a question but wouldn't.
"What?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing. All that's bad enough—about our families. Then there's the fact that you're a male escort. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but can you imagine what the press would do if they found out?"
"No," I lied. "I can't."
I knew exactly what would happen. Her reputation would be ruined, my father would reach the emotional state beyond livid, and I would never escape the reality of the bad choices I'd made. My story would be available forever, courtesy of a little technological advance called the Internet.
I stood and noticed I was clenching my fists. Frustration and sour disappointment coursed through me. "I'm really tired. I'm going to bed." I walked out of the room before she could see my face.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Just tired," I called and slammed my door. Of everything I'm not.
I clicked open my phone and stared at the picture of the two of us, wishing it wasn't a lie. If I'd been looking for an answer from her, I'd just gotten it.
It just wasn't the one I wanted.
The following morning, I got up before Lo and called Elena at AccommoDating.
"How's it going, all-star?" she asked, picking up after the first ring and sounding slightly out of breath.
I looked at the clock, incredulous. Five thirty in the morning. "Do you ever sleep, Elena?"
"I just finished my Kundalini workout. Why're you calling me if you thought I'd be asleep?" She was quiet for a second. "Oh no, Kyle. Do not fuck with me. Not now."
"What?" I asked innocently. "I didn't even say anything!"
"Why're you calling me at five thirty in the morning, Kyle? After you were out dancing with my client until midnight?"
I made a fist and watched my knuckles turn white.
"I don't have time for this. My girls are gonna get up in twenty minutes for school. Speak," she commanded. I could just picture her short hair spiked with sweat, a pristine white workout towel draped around her neck.
"I can't do this anymore."
She sighed. "But you're doing a great job. The press loves you. I haven't received communication from the client, but she wired in another payment on top of the retainer. She must be pleased, or I would have heard something."
"I think she's happy with my services," I mumbled, watching my fist.
"You two look ah-mazing together, and everyone loves your story," she said encouragingly.
"I can't be an escort anymore. I have real-life issues."
Elena snorted. "Honey, you don't have to tell me that—everybody who works for me has real-life issues! It's almost a professional requirement."
"I mean, I have real-life issues at the moment. I have things going on. It's no longer possible for me to fulfill the requirements of my job."
"Kyle." She was silent as, I assumed, she got her anger in check. "You can't quit on me. If you walk out on that girl right now, it'll ruin everything. For her and for my company."
"You can keep all the money Lowell's given you. I don't want it. Then we'll be even, right? If you don't have to pay me, it'll be as if you got paid in full. Even if I quit right now."
"Why are you going to do that to this poor girl?"
"I'm not doing it to her. I'm doing it for her."
Elena sighed. "I'm not giving you a dime of this money."
"Good," I said. "Then maybe it'll be like this never happened."
