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Prologue: Last Scene from Book Two
The day after I materialized on one of the largest screens in the world, cheering from the owner’s box for the opposing team’s quarterback, I called Olga, and she agreed to meet me at her new studio after hours so I could work out. She knew I was a wreck and went through the Pilates session, asking me no questions.
“Don’t you want to know what the hell I was doing or ask me anything about what’s been playing on a continuous loop on TVs across Texas, hell, the country?” I said, straining to talk through the quiver in my voice, on the verge of breaking down as I followed her instructions.
She considered me as I moved my legs in a circular motion. “No, I actually don’t. I don’t care about why you were there or what you were thinking, only about you. So if you want to talk about it, we will, but otherwise, it’s your business,” she said, her deep tone laced with a clipped accent.
“No, I really don’t want to talk about it because I don’t know why or what I was thinking. I keep running it through my head, wishing I could go back in time, not have jumped up like an idiot cheering for the other team's quarterback…damn, I should not have done that.”
“Have you talked to him, the one you were cheering for?” Olga asked.
That made me laugh. Being from Poland and never getting caught up in American pastimes, Olga probably would have considered it a waste of time to watch football. She had no idea who Jake was when he took her class, or she would have said something to me. She probably viewed him as just an overpaid meathead.
“No,” I said with a sigh. “Not sure what to say. I mean, when you do something like that, it’s hard to say, ‘Well, I’m crazy about you, but I don’t know what that means.’”
I snuck out the back door of Olga’s new private Pilates studio after the session. I wore my new uniform/disguise so no one would recognize me—my hair tucked into a baseball cap and sunglasses so big I looked like a fly—and I quickly ran into the local organic grocery store. I needed a quiet night in, pigging out, burying this whole thing for one,just onenight—wine, rich food, and a movie.
I was going to force myself to put my phone in a drawer and not look at it, but after listening to my mom’s message yesterday, I erased it and threw my phone on the couch. “Rae, this is your Mother,” as if I didn’t know who that voice belonged to. “Your news has reached across the Pacific Ocean to our small part of the world, I suppose a part you have forgotten, dear. I told you the key was losing weight, and now it appears that you may have snagged the interest of someone with money. Good for you, Rae. Good for you.” Nothing like the backhanded bite of a mother veiled as a compliment to make you feel worthless. No way was I calling her back or turning on the computer or the TV. There was no screen I could look at that wasn’t going to highlight and dissect my impulsive move. I was done seeing my face everywhere, sick of all the speculation about who I was. Every online/social media outlet and news station was jeering, guessing, or making crazy assumptions about who I was and why I did it.
“How did she know Jake?”TMZspeculated. “One of his many conquests, making herself seen?”
AndJocks on the Street(JTS: known for interviewing pro athletes in bars and getting them to answer ridiculous questions, mostly about their love lives), playing an old interview withJake, especially a segment where he says he likes “freaky girls” …then laughter. “Better be freaky if she wants to land Skyler.”
“Do you think she did that on purpose as a publicity stunt? An unknown model’s way to gain instant fame or notoriety?” a news reporter mused.
“Is she just that ditzy? How could she not know that wasn’t going to go over well with her date and his family?” another sportscaster speculated.
My phone buzzed, then rang as I jumped in the car to head home. “Jonathon,” I burst out…not hiding my grateful desperation from hearing his voice.
“Kells…are you doing okay?” Jonathon’s voice took on a caressing quality. I knew Matt was frustrated. God, I had literally obliterated my life with that five-second cheer. “We’re worried about you. I know Matt seemed frustrated last night, but we talked and, well—he’s more concerned than upset.”
A rush of stale air left my lungs. “I knew he wasn’t happy when he called. I can always tell when Matt talks in that overly strained voice, like he’s working to contain what he really wants to say to me. It would be easier if he just screamed, ‘You’re a fucking idiot, Kells.’” I let out a half-chuckle on a breath.
Jonathon laughed. “It’s irritating how well he controls himself, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, looks like I missed the lesson on self-control,” I muttered.
“Hey, Princess,” Matt spoke into the phone. “Matt here…”
“Matt, of course I know that,” I blurted out.
“Okay, honestly, I’m not upset. Actually, there’s something sort of comical about it. My sisters have been buzzing with questions. They think the whole thing is something right out of the movies…especially Mabel-June…she’s giddy about it. She keeps sending me new clips. I am pleading the fifth, butbe prepared for my dad’s questions. He’s concerned….” Matt lowered his voice. “In his words: ‘I hope Rakell is not messed up with that Austin boy. He’s not good enough for her.’”
“Mmmm…well, I’m not, and I…but I… Matt, there’s a part of me that wants to be messed up with him. I mean…” I sigh-laughed. “I guess I mean, I must like him, and I am near the end, and I suppose it’s fairly obvious, but I am drawn to him.”
Matt cleared his throat. “Then decide if it’s just physical or if there is really something there. Then you need to talk to Jake.”
“I know, you’re right. I’m home now, and I have to make my stealth move into the building with groceries.”
“Go, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
With two bags full of food and wine in hand, I scooted past the front desk, not looking at who was working, before ascending the stairs leading to my tenth-story apartment. I’d started the habit of taking the stairs to save some time at the gym. Breathing hard, mostly because of the added weight of the bags, head down, I climbed briskly, forcing myself to finish this part of the workout. I knew I’d have to steer clear of the gym for a while until the story blew over. Would it blow over?
I had resigned myself to being a prisoner of sorts in my own home for a while. Matt was right—I needed to reach out to Jake, but I wasn’t sure what to say yet. I kept telling myselfafter the Super Bowl…reach out to him.Don’t make things murky until you get yourself together. I hit the ninth floor. Only one more to go. My nervous system jolted, alerting my body to the shadow above me, just as that familiar deep voice murmured, “Hey you.”
Chapter One
Lost in her thoughts, Rakell’s head snapped up, her eyes registering Jake standing with two bottles of champagne by his feet.What?Her foot instinctively jolted backward, and she teetered on the edge of tripping as one of the bags slid out of her arms. He lunged forward and in one deft motion managed to grab the bag, saving the wine.
