Читать книгу Red Carpet Arrangement - Vicki Essex - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

“SOMETHING WRONG WITH your sole?”

Kat looked up from the fish filet in lemon sauce Riley’s sister Kaylee had prepared for her. She’d been trying to choke it down without gagging for the past half hour. “It’s fine. Delicious.”

Riley’s “baby” sister—a whole four years older than Kat’s twenty-six years—beamed, showing long, white teeth against her tanned face. She was a wiry woman, pretty, but tautly held, as if her skin might snap if she smiled too hard. “I got the recipe from a woman in my drumming circle,” she said, and flipped her sun-streaked hair. “It goes against my vegan beliefs, but I know the baby shouldn’t go without meat. Still—” her shoulders locked into a shrug “—fish are the only animals I’m willing to kill.”

So she’d been saying all week. Every piece of food Kat had put in her mouth had gone down with Riley’s sister pushing her own strict diet of nuts and seeds and organic this and that. She’d been using that supercilious tone with Kat from the moment they met, peppering her with questions about her diet and exercise regime, and what she was doing for the baby’s “spiritual welfare.”

Trying not to strangle you had been Kat’s first thought. She put another mouthful of the slimy, too-lemony fish into her mouth, holding her breath as she chewed and swallowed. She normally liked fish, but the pregnancy had turned her off the texture and flavor. She hadn’t said anything, though. How could she? She was living off Riley’s family. She wasn’t going to turn away food that Kaylee the vegan had made especially for her. No, she’d eat it, feel wretched for a while, then go back to the guesthouse and make herself a peanut-butter sandwich.

“Still no sign of Freddie?” Riley’s second sister, Mia, asked casually. Unlike Kaylee, the taciturn Mia never said much, having little to no opinion on her sister’s food or, well, anything. She was tall and fit, her tan complexion and the light sprinkling of freckles across her strong bone structure trophies of her career as a golfing instructor and semipro player. Despite Riley’s enormous house, she lived on her own and apparently only came around occasionally for dinner. Her words seemed to be as carefully measured and economical as her golf game.

Winnie shook her head. “He’s still on deadline.” She gave Kat an apologetic look. “He goes into the zone when he’s under pressure. He’ll come over soon, I’m sure.”

Riley’s brother, Freddie, was a comic-book artist who lived in his own apartment closer to the downtown area and only visited now and then to do laundry, eat or help his mother with a chore that required heavy lifting. Some of his framed sketches decorated the house. One of Kat’s favorites was a caricature drawing of the four Jacobsen siblings. Riley posed like an Oscar statue, a golf ball struck by Mia bouncing off his head. Kaylee, drawn with pigtails, hula-hooped with a menagerie of big-eyed cartoon animals frolicking around her, and Freddie, bearded and paunchy, sat sketching them all.

“I’m looking forward to meeting him.” She put her fork down and patted her belly. “Wow, I’m stuffed. Thanks so much for dinner, Kaylee.”

“It was nothing.” Her tone suggested otherwise. She glanced down at Kat’s half-full plate. “You should take that with you, in case you need a midnight snack.”

“Thanks, I will.” She’d throw it all out as soon as she got back to her room. She couldn’t even look at the stuff without feeling queasy.

She felt Mia’s eyes on her as she scraped her leftovers into a Tupperware container. Kat understood that her shortness didn’t stem from hostility, but rather thoughtfulness. She could tell Mia hadn’t entirely made up her mind about her. Kaylee, meanwhile, didn’t seem to have an internal filter, and said whatever she thought, no matter how rude or critical it came across. She wondered what Freddie was like, and how Riley, as the eldest, interacted with the three of them.

They’re family now, she reminded herself with a sigh. Sweetpea was certainly going to have some interesting relatives.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” Winnie asked. “I’m free to drive you anywhere you need to go.”

“Thanks, but I’m thinking of sleeping in and taking it easy.”

“You’ve been feeling all right, though? I could take you to the ob-gyn if you need—”

“It’s nothing. I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Are you warm enough at night? Or too hot? I can get you more pillows, or different ones—”

“I’m fine. Really. It’s just the baby.” And being in a new, unfamiliar place. She was grateful for the plush guesthouse she’d been installed in, but nothing about her situation made her feel at home. “I just need—” space. To be alone. To do something on my own without being criticized or questioned “—to rest.”

“You know it’s absolutely no trouble at all for me to drive you around,” Winnie reiterated. “I only work part-time at the bank these days, and I can get time off. Or Kaylee can drive you, if you need.”

She caught Kaylee’s scowl, but didn’t react to it. “Thank you.”

She’d only ask either of them if it were absolutely necessary to go out. The truth was, as restless and bored as she was alone in the guesthouse, it was almost preferable to spending all her time with Winnie. Riley’s mother was sweet, but her hovering was getting on Kat’s nerves.

Not to mention that she got the feeling Kaylee was jealous of all the attention that her mother lavished on Kat and her unborn grandchild. It would explain her attitude.

But, more than her own space or anything else, Kat wanted some of her independence back. The guesthouse gave her some privacy, but it wasn’t enough. Being around the Jacobsens all the time was beginning to stifle her. She felt trapped by kindness—asking Winnie to borrow her car would only get her chauffeured around, while asking to arrange a rental car felt greedy, somehow, even ungrateful.

Maybe she was. Maybe she had to be, for the baby’s sake if no one else’s. If she didn’t get out on her own soon, she’d go stir-crazy.

Back at the guesthouse, she opened her laptop and discovered yet another email from Jamie. It was the eighth one in four days, asking where she was, how she was doing, whether she could take pictures of where she was to reassure her she wasn’t in a rat-infested gulag. Her requests for photos were getting progressively more demanding. The latest message had been telling.

At least let me know you’re not dead. I’m your friend—can’t you even spare me a minute to say hi?

Jamie was not happy with her. But her demands smacked of something more than curiosity, as if she knew something.

As much as it pained her to turn away from her friend, she deleted the email without replying.

The guesthouse landline phone rang. She picked it up swiftly, hoping it was her mother.

“It’s me.” Riley’s voice was stiff, and tired, too. A thrill went through her, followed by a tumbling in her belly. She hadn’t thought she’d missed him, but she had. “I wanted to call and check up on you.”

He could’ve phoned four days ago when she’d first moved in, but he hadn’t. Of course, he was busy. She calmed down and told herself it was a courtesy call, nothing more. “Things are fine. The guesthouse is lovely and your family’s been very kind. I haven’t met your brother yet, though.”

“Has Kaylee been...cooking?”

She stifled a rueful laugh. “She has.”

Riley muttered an oath. “I’m okay with her fruity hippie-dippy crap most of the time, but she doesn’t have a lot of sense when it comes to other people’s nutritional needs. One time she put a pile of wilted spinach topped with raw almonds in front of each of us and told us it was ‘a paleo dinner.’” She could almost picture his shudder. “Tell me honestly, is she feeding you okay?”

“She cooks a lot of fish for me. For the baby. I mean, it’s not the shrimp feast we had in Hawaii—”

Riley groaned. “Oh, man. Wish you hadn’t mentioned those—I haven’t eaten yet today. Those kebabs were the best I’ve ever had. I haven’t found their equal, like, anywhere.”

She smiled as warmth flowed through her. The night they’d met she’d taken him to a roadside stand because nothing on the tiki bar’s menu had struck her as particularly good or authentically Hawaiian. “You’re lucky I knew the owner of that food truck. Those kebabs aren’t on his regular menu. He made them especially for us.”

The brief trip down memory lane was followed by stilted silence. The ease with which they’d slid back to that night was almost unsettling.

“Kaylee’s cooking is fine, really,” Kat continued, clearing her throat. She needed to veer away from those happy memories—they felt dangerous. And she also didn’t want to be the cause of strife in the family. She wouldn’t gripe to him about free food and shelter. Riley, however, seemed to pick up on her underlying discontent.

“I’ll talk to Mom. She only lets Kaylee cook so she feels relevant.”

Ouch. Was that how siblings usually talked about each other?

She said carefully, “You don’t have to. I’m really easy to please.”

God, that sounded wishy-washy. But she’d rather choke down more lemony fish than have someone tell the already querulous Kaylee that Kat didn’t like her cooking.

“This isn’t about you,” Riley said. “It’s about the baby.”

Right. The baby. Never mind the woman carrying her. She stuffed down her resentment and asked him pleasantly, “How are things on your end? You sound stressed.”

“Busy. I’ve barely had a moment to breathe.”

“Not a good busy?”

“Hrmmph.”

He’d made that exact sound the first time they met and she’d asked him if everything was all right. The sound somehow conveyed the cheerlessness of gritty sand blowing across a gravel beach on an overcast day. She supposed it matched the glower he so often sported on movie posters.

“There’s something you need to know,” he admitted reluctantly.

He told her about the press junket and the questions surrounding her identity. Then he told her about the reporter, Charlie Durst. “Sam’s doing her best to turn people away from the story, but you need to watch out for Durst. He’s sneaky. He’s been known to go around in disguise and crash celebrity weddings and parties.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for guys in trench coats with big fake mustaches and rubber noses.”

He chuckled. She was glad she could still make him laugh.

“You sound like you need a Shirley Temple.” She couldn’t seem to keep away from the memories, no matter how dangerous.

Riley’s soft laughter eased the tension strung over the phone line. “You might’ve made me a fan for life if you hadn’t told me what it was.”

“What’s in a name? A mocktail by any other name would be just as fruity.”

“You could’ve lied.”

“It was a pink drink with a cherry and an umbrella in it. Your ego didn’t dent when I set it down, and no one else knew it was virgin. Anyhow, it helped, didn’t it?”

“I think we both know the drink wasn’t what helped me get through that night.”

Warmth blossomed in her belly. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the easy way they’d flirted their first—and only—night together.

“So have you been out? Seen anything of my hometown?” Riley asked.

“Not much. Your mom’s driven me to the grocery store and the ob-gyn’s office to make an appointment, but...” She hesitated. “I was wondering...if it’s not too much trouble...if I could get a rental car.”

Silence on the other end of the line. “Why do you need a car?” he asked slowly.

It wasn’t a straight-out no, but his probing tone made her defensive. “Your mother’s been great, but I don’t want her taking time off work to chauffeur me around all the time.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you driving yourself around,” Riley said.

“I’m fully licensed in five states, including California. My driving record is clean. Not a single parking or speeding ticket.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know this city very well. The roads can be tricky and the freeways are nuts.”

“Riley, I’ve driven through all kinds of weather conditions all over the place. I even have a truck license.”

“Still. I’m not sure you should be driving around.”

“Why? Because I’m pregnant?”

Silence. She chewed her lip. Maybe he wanted to control her movements and ensure she didn’t simply drive away, or go to meet some journalists or something. He should’ve known by now she wouldn’t do that—why would she jeopardize her meal ticket?

“I don’t need anything fancy,” she added, in case it seemed as if she was asking him to buy her a Mercedes. “Just something to get me from point A to B. There’ll be a lot of appointments...”

“All right,” he said, sighing. “I’ll call and have someone drop something off tomorrow.”

She pursed her lips. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Kat...” he began tentatively.

Her breath stalled in her lungs—she didn’t know what she was waiting for, what she was hoping to hear. She didn’t even know if there was something she wanted to hear from him. “Yes, Riley?”

“Take care of yourself. I’ll be back in Modesto on Sunday.”

Disappointment filtered through her. She nodded stiffly. “Okay.”

He hung up without saying goodbye.