One Hot Secret by Sarah J. Brooks

Chapter 10

Grace

“Oh wow,” is all I can say as I climb off the bike and remove the helmet. “We must be on top of the world.” The view from the top of the canyon is magnificent. Below us, the city lights sparkle like a thousand stars. LA is spread below us, so close yet so far.

“Come, there’s a nice spot with some boulders where we can sit,” Jack says and takes my hand.

We follow a path that leads to the other side, and just as Jack said, there are comfortable boulders jutting from the earth. He helps me up and then sits down beside me.

“This reminds me of a spot in Newtown where we used to go as teenagers,” I tell him, memories of my youth coming over me.

“A make-out spot,” Jack says.

I laugh. “More or less.”

“Did you let some ugly pimply boy grope you?” Jack says.

“Ha ha, very funny. I went once. I never got invited again.” My chest constricts as if my painful teenage years were happening all over again.

“Why?” Jack asks softly.

I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with two options. To jump and trust that everything will work out as it should and I’ll find my footing, or to retreat and keep myself safe. I inhale deeply.

“Everyone found out who my real parents were, and they treated me differently after that.” My voice is calm, hiding the avalanche of emotions whirling inside my chest.

Jack’s voice cuts through the memories. “I don’t understand,” he says softly.

I swallow hard. A wave of dizziness comes over me, and my legs feel as if they are made of jelly. Am I really going to tell Jack my deepest secret? My mouth starts to move of its own volition.

“My biological parents were famous musicians two decades ago. You might have heard of them.” I haven’t said their names in so long that it takes a few seconds before I can gather the courage to say it out aloud.

“Who were they?” Jack says.

“Ricky and Ivy Ross. My father was—”

“One of the greatest rock stars of our time, and your mother was an awesome singer too,” Jack says.

“Yes.” I turn to face him, and what I see in his eyes is not shock or disgust but understanding. “So now you know my deep dark secret.” I smile, but it comes out like a grimace, I’m sure.

He frowns. “How did you come to be adopted by Nora and John? I remember reading the news of your mother’s death. And your father’s.”

“Suicide, you mean. My father drank himself to death a few years later, but by then, Aunt Nora had taken me to live with her and my uncle. She was my father’s older sister.”

“That explains the resemblance between you and Nora,” Jack says.

I smile at that. I like that I resemble Mom. I wish I were her and my uncle’s biological daughter. I wouldn’t have the secret of my parents’ past hanging over me and wouldn’t have to lie to my friends that I didn’t know who my parents were.

“My parents were all over the newspapers and tabloids and when I came along, so was I. Poor love child, what chance does she have?” By the time I was eight years old, I’d seen the newspaper articles and knew that I was an object of pity.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” Jack says. “That’s the very ugly side of fame.”

“My parents were wild, and they had no business having a child. I was always left in the care of nannies, and those were the good times, to be honest. When my parents were together, they fueled each other with drugs, alcohol, and endless parties.”

“I’ve read about them,” Jack says. “They fought a lot too, right?”

“I still remember them screaming and throwing stuff at each other. Then when they were apart, my mother lost her mind when she saw pictures of my dad with other women. She had stopped performing by then. She spent her days reading everything she could about him when he was away.”

My body trembles uncontrollably, and Jack quickly moves closer to me and pulls me close to him. He drapes a hand protectively around me, and the trembling stops.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” he says.

The tears come then, and I sob as if my heart is breaking. That’s how I feel. I cry for the little rich girl who belonged to no one. I cry for the teenager who was humiliated when her friends found out that her parents were the most self-destructive musicians the world had ever seen. I cry for the little girl who more than once woke up in the middle of the night and found a bunch of strangers in the house, only to find out they were policemen.

“I remember the night my mother took her life,” I continue. “My dad was in those magazines she read every day, but this time, instead of different women, he got pictured with the same red-haired woman. It was driving my mother crazy. She called him constantly until the hotel blocked her number.” It seems like someone else’s childhood now when I think about it.

“Eventually, she got it into her head that he was going to leave her. That’s when she took an overdose. By the time the maid found her, it was morning, and she was long gone.”

Jack squeezes me so hard he almost breaks me. It makes me feel safe.

“Why were they allowed to keep you?” Jack asks harshly.

I know the anger is not directed at me. It’s for two people who should not have been allowed to raise a child. “Their publicist did everything they could to make sure that word of how I was growing up never got out. Any pictures taken of me, I was in the care of a nanny. What the public and authorities did not know, however, was that sometimes I would stay for months without a nanny. No one wanted to work for them.” I’d kept these feelings hidden away for so long that talking about it felt like I was coming apart.

“It’s sickening,” Jack says. “You shouldn’t bring a child into this world if you can’t take care of him or her.”

“Very true.” I look up at him. “I can’t believe I told you all that. I’ve never told anyone, not even my closest friends. I think I sort of believed if I didn’t talk about it, it would disappear. Stupid, huh?”

“Not at all. I think you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met. You put all that ugliness behind you and made a life for yourself,” Jack says.

“I can’t take credit for that. My parents did that. They normalized my life and taught me that home was a safe place.”

“Come on, let’s go home,” Jack says and pulls me up to my feet.

We follow the path down to the motorbike. Jack puts the helmet on me and then puts on his own, and we’re off.

I’d always debated with myself if I’d ever tell anyone about my past. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Jack. He understood all of it, including my need to forge another life and put the past behind me. He drives fast, and in minutes, we’re pulling up to my apartment. To my surprise, my car is parked in its usual parking space.

“How did you do that?” I ask him. “Can you be in two places at one time?”

He chuckles. “No, I got a friend to drop it off for me.”

Jack holds me close in the elevator, and I rest my head on his chest. He massages my back softly. His cock presses against my belly. Evidence of his arousal gets me going too, and by the time we enter my apartment, I’m panting for him.

He backs me up against the wall and slants his mouth over mine. We press our bodies together as our tongues tease each other. Pretty soon, we are panting with desire.

Jack pulls away and lifts me up easily as if he’s been doing it forever.

“I want to make love to you on the bed,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

His words make my heart melt. So many firsts with Jack. I’ve never had a man want to make love to me. It’s always sex. I stare at him lovingly as he carries me down the hallway to my bedroom.

He lays me gently on the bed and then undresses me slowly. I growl with frustration and try to help. He playfully slaps my hand away. “You’re a gift, and I want to enjoy unwrapping the package.”

Tears unexpectedly fill my eyes. Just weeks ago, I would not have believed that I would meet a man who would openly adore me as Jack does. I don’t care that there’s a lot about him I don’t know. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t taken me to his place. What matters is how he treats me and this special thing growing between us. With time, everything will fall into place. That’s what my mom likes to say.