Indiscreet by Nicole French

2

“What. The hell. Are you doing here?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, instead attempting to slam the door in his face like the last time I’d seen him. Will’s broad palm anticipated the move with a harsh slap on the wood.

“I don’t think so,” he said as he shoved his way in, followed by a shorter, Latino-looking man with close-cut hair and a navy skinny suit that was accented with a pink-striped tie and matching polka-dotted pocket square. The two of them made a bit of an odd couple. With the exception of his beard, which had been trimmed to mostly stubble, Will looked his same, scruffy self in a plain pair of jeans, an old Nirvana t-shirt with more than one hole in the cotton, and his hair piled on top of his head in a messy knot. His beard had grown out some in the last two weeks, but not to the point where it obscured his face. After all, his cover was blown. There would have been no point.

He looked delectable. Every cell in my body wanted to jump him. But I hated him all the more for it.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Callie strode out of the bathroom with a broad grin directed at Mr. Suit, who immediately grinned back. He crossed to her and delivered kisses to both of Callie’s cheeks.

“How you doin’, Calliope?” He looked her up and down. “Damn, girl. You look better every time I see you.”

“Cut the shit, Benny. I already told you, she’s not going to do that interview.”

I frowned at Calliope. “I thought you said you hadn’t spoken to him.”

Callie shrugged. “No, I inferred that I’d love another chance to chat him up. This guy’s a riot.”

“A riot, huh? How did I get such a rave?” Benny asked while I shrank against the wall.

“Interview?” Will glanced at his friend. “What the fuck, Benny? I also told you I’m not doing anything with the goddamn press. Neither of us are.”

Benny, whom I guessed was Benny Amaya, the notorious agent and name on the one piece of mail I’d ever seen Will receive, just laughed. It was kind of funny. Two years ago, I would have given about anything to stand in the same room as this guy. He was one of those people who held the keys to almost every door in the entertainment industry, whose good word could make a career within a five-minute conversation.

Back then, I would have been falling all over myself to meet him. Now I couldn’t care less.

“You don’t know what I want,” I snapped at Will. “You don’t get to speak for me. Especially when I don’t know who you even are.”

“Maggie—” he started.

I ignored the frustrated, helpless look on his face. “Don’t bother.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Benny inserted himself between us. “Let’s cool it a little, huh? First things first.” He extended a hand to me. “Benjamin Amaya. I represent Wi—I mean, Fitz, in well, all sorts of matters.”

“Benny, she doesn’t know who the fuck Fitz Baker is.” Will’s deep voice cut sharply through the niceties.

I shook Benny’s hand limply. He ignored Will and looked me over with mild recognition. “You look familiar, sweetheart. Where do I know you from?”

“Probably the papers right now,” I mumbled as I sat back down on the couch. Will followed. I glared at him and got back up, crossing the room to cower next to Calliope. Will had brought a second. Well, I had mine too.

“No, that’s not it…” Benny snapped his fingers. “That’s it! You were Theo del Conte’s girl, weren’t you?”

As soon as the name was out, the room, already somewhat icy, became a tundra. Will’s face turned black, and Callie shook her head. I swallowed. It was one more indicator that no matter what, I’d always be defined by someone else’s shadow. Ellie Sharp’s daughter. Theo del Conte’s girl. There was a part of me that was starting to wonder if I’d ever be known for just being me.

This time, Benny didn’t seem impervious to the room as he shifted uncomfortably on his wingtips. “Right. Damn. Yeah. I, uh, heard about all of that. You really pissed off an entire empire with that one, didn’t you, honey?”

He cocked his head—I didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. Everyone in this city knew about my high-profile court battle with the del Conte family, in which I’d pressed charges of rape against Theo, and after a year-long battle, won a small piece of justice when he was sentences to six months behind bars (though he served only a few).

“Which means you’ll want to keep it to yourself that she’s here,” Callie broke in. “For her own safety.”

“Why are you here, Lil?”

I turned to Will, whose penetrating green gaze—that same, unwavering stare that had appeared, night after night, as soon as I drifted to sleep—wouldn’t let me go. “Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“Like Will?”

“Like mine.”

My mouth dropped. “Are you here to claim me? Because I am not your fucking possession, Baker!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Benny cut in. “Maggie, Will and I came over to make sure you were all right. That’s all. No one is claiming anyone right now, isn’t that right, F?”

Will grunted. “Li—Maggie. I just want to talk.” His voice was curt, but the look in his eyes choked back the next retort I had. “It’s been two goddamn weeks. I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”

We stared at each other for what felt like several minutes, and the tension in the room flowered. Will’s eyes, deep, dark green pools, drowned me with their complexity, all the emotions that his taciturn self could never say.

“Please, Lil,” he said, and his voice cracked slightly on the last word. “I’m dying over here.”

“Oh, Maggie.” Calliope sighed under her breath. Benny shook his head ruefully.

I couldn’t speak at all. Finally, after I concentrated on taking at least three full breaths to keep myself from running to him, I tore my gaze away and grabbed my purse off the counter behind me.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” I announced. “I need to not be here right now.”

All three other people in the room objected at once.

“Maggie, maybe you should wait—”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that, honey—”

“Lil, no—”

I whirled around at the door. “Listen, all of you. I’ve been cooped up in this goddamn apartment for two weeks, waiting until my face wasn’t splattered across every tabloid in the country as the pathetic chick Fitz Baker took for a ride. I can’t take it anymore. Goodbye.”

“Maggie!”

The door shut on Will’s cry, and before anyone else could answer, I had already dashed down the hall and four floors down the service stairwell to the entrance of Calliope’s walk-up. I strode out onto Christopher Street walking so fast I was practically jogging.

The movement felt good. After training intensely for a triathlon for over a month, I hadn’t done anything except yoga in Calliope’s small living room. My heart rate was up, pounding away in my chest, and the movement helped clear that excess energy.

I was so intent on escaping that it took me a solid few blocks to realize people were clearing out of my way. The normally bustling Christopher Street emptied as pedestrians crossed the street or ducked down back alleys. A half a block later, I stopped and turned around. The sidewalk was now totally empty with the exception of three massive bodyguards, all of them forming a broad, triangular formation around the person who was doggedly following me: Will.

I rolled my eyes. “What part of ‘goodbye’ don’t you understand, Baker?”

He didn’t speak until he’d reached me. “You didn’t really think I was going to let you walk out, did you? I’ve been trying to find you for two goddamn weeks, Lil.”

I shrugged. His betrayal was humming through me at this point. I was in no mood to be generous. “I’ve been around.”

“Have you?” He spoke through his teeth, like he was trying not to bite my head off. “Your mother said you left as soon as I did. ‘New York’ was all she would tell me. I’m not even sure she actually knows more than that, but it was the only clue I had. Why else do you think I’d be in this fucking fishbowl if not to find you?”

“Nobody forced you to leave my house before.”

“What was I supposed to do after you slammed the door in my face? Go home to the hundreds of photographers waiting for me? Give myself up to the hunt?”

I shrugged again, but I couldn’t connect with his eyes.

Will sighed. “Why didn’t you tell your mother where you went?”

I pressed my lips together. “You know as well as I do that Mama couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.”

“Lucas doesn’t know either. Linda. Barb. None of them have any clue.”

“No one does.”

“Why?”

And there was the question. I’d screamed out of Newman Lake and left a trail of my heart’s blood from one coast to the other. All calls and texts from Lucas and Mama had gone unanswered other than to let them know I needed to take care of some things in the city and that I was safe. My official reason for returning to New York was to report that Theo, my ex-boyfriend, had violated his restraining order. But the cops quickly informed me that the man had a rock-solid alibi, and that unless I filed for a no-contact clause in the order, Theo wasn’t prohibited from phone calls or texts. My lawyer had done just that, but it would be another week before a hearing.

But I didn’t strictly have to be here for the hearing, of course. Callie was right. I needed to find a job. Get off her couch. Figure out what the hell I was doing in New York City if not playing music.

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found,” was all I said.

Will glowered. “I guess I wanted to find you more.”

“I think you’re overestimating how much I want to see you.”

“You’re underestimating how much more stubborn I am than you.”

“Well, that’s the truth,” I started, right as a young woman’s voice broke through our little detente with an unusual amount of joy.

“Oh my God. Oh. My. God. You’re—you’re Fitz Baker, aren’t you?”

We both turned around to find a girl about my age, maybe a little younger, staring at Will with shocked eyes and a dropped jaw. She clutched her purse like she was going to rip it apart.

“Oh my God!” she kept saying again and again. “I’m such a big fan! I cried when I thought you were dead. I’m not even kidding!”

“Fuck off,” Will snarled as he set a hand between my shoulder blades and started guiding me around the girl, whose face immediately fell.

I shook his hand off and dug my heels into the concrete, not even caring that the girl was already pulling out her phone.

“Miss, please.” One of the bodyguards was already stepping forward to block the girl. “Mr. Baker is not taking photos at this time.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Don’t be an asshole, Mr. Baker,” I snapped at Will. “One of your adoring fans wants to say hello.” I turned back to the girl, who was still ogling both of us openly as she fumbled with her screen. “I’m sorry for him.”

She shook her head, her eyes a bundle of stars. I could understand, for the first time, why they called it “starstruck.” She really did look like she had been blinded.

“I am an asshole, Lily,” he growled, low enough that only I could hear it. “I told you that a long time ago.”

“People can change,” I hissed.

“Can they?”

“I don’t know, Fitz. Can they?”

We glared at each other all over again like we didn’t have an audience, both of us trying and failing miserably to mask the anger and frustration vibrating out of our bodies. Will’s eyes flickered to my lips, and I hated myself for imagining, momentarily, shoving him down a side street and kissing him until I had scratched up his shoulders and given him a fat lip.

“Talk about sexual tension.”

At the sound of the girl’s voice, Will ripped himself away and plastered the biggest, fakest smile I had ever seen. And yet, I recognized it. It was the same smile on every single one of the pictures I’d browsed over the last two weeks. Beautiful, blinding. Miserable.

It physically hurt to see it.

“Did you want a picture?” he asked through his teeth.

The girl, flabbergasted all over again, practically fell over herself as she stumbled forward with her phone. “OmigodomigodomigodYES!” she squealed, shoving her face as close to his as possible while they posed for a selfie, glee practically oozing out of her pores.

I stood politely off to the side with crossed arms, rolling my eyes at one of the bodyguards. The stoic face did not move.

“Thank you!” the girl said again and again as she put her phone away and begged an autograph from Will. Or Fitz, apparently, since that’s what he scribbled on the wrinkled receipt she procured from her purse.

“No problem,” he said as he handed it back. “Have a good one.”

He watched as one of the bodyguards ushered the girl down the sidewalk, listening to her blather about what a great guy Fitz was. It was only when she’d crossed the street, and we stood on the block, alone except for his security, that Will turned back to me. The smile disappeared; now he had a face like thunder.

“I hope you’re happy. In about ten minutes, this entire fucking block is going to be jammed with a hundred more like her. I guarantee you that photo is already on Twatter or Instashit or whatever bullshit time suck people use to invade other people’s fucking privacy. It’ll be all over the tabloids within the hour.”

He looked around, like he expected another hoard of photographers to jump out of the fire escapes or the bushes at a nearby park. I couldn’t see them yet, but it was almost like you could feel the energy growing in the air. The trio of security was clearly nervous, their heads now on constant swivels.

I looked at Will. “This is how it’s going to be now, isn’t it? We’ll never be able to do something like take a walk by ourselves again, will we?”

Will softened a little at the word “we.” He opened his mouth, but said nothing, just grabbed the back of his neck and frowned.

I sighed, feeling defeated. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s…”

I almost suggested we go back to Calliope’s, but she and Benny would be there. I could see on Will’s face that he meant what he said––there was no way I was going to get away from him without at least a conversation. And I wasn’t really interested in doing that with any kind of audience.

“Do you know somewhere we can go?”

Will looked up, surprised. “Really?”

I huffed. “Yeah. You said we have to talk. So, let’s talk. In private, if that’s possible anymore.”

He blinked, like he wasn’t sure I’d actually agreed to what he wanted. Then, abruptly, he turned to one of the bodyguards, the one who seemed like he was in charge. “Garrett, call the car. We need to get out of here.”