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Mom hugged me a little tighter before letting go. She glanced down and frowned. "You look a little tired."
"I just woke from a nap."
"Ah, okay. Just be sure you're using under eye cream. It's never too early to start. A little concealer for the dark circles too. Yes?"
I nodded, a faint smile on my lips. "Of course."
She patted my shoulder, pleased with my response. Like I was going to worry about under eye cream at my age. I had enough things to carry on my shoulders as it was.
"Your father and I have something we'd like to speak to you about. Do you have a minute?"
I nodded and followed behind. Stepping into my dad's office, I was met with the most gorgeous sunset that bloomed through the large window that overlooked the rich, green lawn. Warm rays of blood orange and rosy hues filled the room. I inhaled as if I could breathe in the colors. I wished I was outside. I missed the beach. It smelled like old leather and comfort in here, just as I remembered. As a kid, I used to just sit on the floor and play with my Barbies for hours while he worked. Mom used to try and shoo me out. Even though I never uttered a word and didn't dare bother him, she'd said I was a hassle and that he needed silence to concentrate, but he'd always told her to leave me be. One day when I walked in, I found my Barbie dollhouse in his office. Dad had moved it in there along with a trunk of dolls and their dress up clothes. That was the last time she tried to pry me away.
Dad glanced up and a huge smile spread across his face the moment he spotted me. I ran and gave him a hug.
"Dad!"
"My little princess," he said, pulling back. "I'm so happy to see your beautiful face!"
I'd been a daddy's girl from the moment I was born. And he loved it.
Before I could speak a word, Mom cut in. "Frank, do you have a moment to go over what we spoke about?"
Dad glanced back at me, this time gravity weighed on his features. He nodded and gestured toward his cherry colored leather chairs. I took a seat and Mom took one next to me. She was poised with a Stepford Wife face that could cut glass. A nagging, worrying feeling settled in my belly. Silence cloaked us. I shot a look at Dad, who had reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folded newspaper. He opened it, gave it a firm shake so it would flatten, then stood tall. His face contorted, and my stomach sank.
Lowering the newspaper, he flattened his lips and glanced away, sliding the paper toward me with a heavy exhale to follow.
Before I peered down at the paper, I glanced at my mom, thinking it might have been for her, but it wasn't. She gestured elegantly with her hand out and palm up for me to take it. Hesitantly, I reached forward and viewed what had made my parents’ tune change so quickly.
I paled. My jaw dropped. My eyes widened. My stomach, and heart, plummeted to the floor. I blinked long. And I blinked long again, not believing the words written in bold black, purposely printed to catch everyone's attention. A deafening sound filled the room as I sat stone-still in my dad's office rereading the front page over and over, a newspaper strictly printed for the residents of Palm Beach.
'PALM BEACH PRINCESS GETTING AWFULLY COZY WITH HER COACH.'
Beneath the headline in italics, it read…
'Caught in the act, teen socialite Adrianna Rossi seduces renowned gymnastics coach.'
Next to the headline were pictures of me at my meets. Me hugging Kova with his back to the camera. Another photo zoomed in on my face as I gave Kova a megawatt smile, again his back was to the camera. The next showed him squatted in front of me, his hands on my hips and fingertips pressed to my butt over my leotard. His ball cap was pulled low over his face, only the stubble on his chin was visible.
None of them were offensive or distasteful in my eyes. All gymnasts and coaches were close and very hands on. It came with the sport. But the one photo that held my attention the most, the one that took up the most space and center stage, was the one taken somewhere outside of my complex.
Someone had hidden in the bushes.
Kova had me cradled to his chest, my face buried in his neck with one arm draped over his shoulder, as he entered my building.
Now this looked like the definition of intimate. The sun had set, and I wore very little, next to nothing clothing. My duffle bag was on his shoulder and it looked like I had fallen asleep. The angle of the photo hid his face and made it seem like Kova was pressing a kiss to my cheek.
Fuck. I swallowed hard, trying to figure out how the hell I would get out of this. Kova hadn't kissed me outside, we’d always been careful in public. I knew at once I had to play it off as nothing unusual, when in truth, this particular photo wasn’t good. It looked bad, really bad, especially next to the others where I basically had throbbing hearts in my eyes while I gazed upon him like a lovesick teenager.
The other photos from the meets were common but completely taken out of context, and that's what I was going to go with. If this paparazzi had done their homework, then they would've seen that it was nothing out of the ordinary. But of course, why do that when they can spin it to make money. Especially when the family was well-known and lived on the prestigious Palm Beach Island. Fame. Money. Privilege.
I sighed inwardly and schooled my features. Placing the newspaper down, I looked up at Dad, then to Mom.
I feigned confusion, my voice piqued. "What? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Mom retorted, her voice much higher than mine. She leaned forward and grabbed the paper and held it up for me to see again. She shook it, the sound of the papers thrashed together. "You don't see what the issue is?"
Straight-faced, I shot another quick look at the newspaper and then back to her. Of course I did, but I had to play dumb.
