Girl Trouble (9 page)

She leaned into the front seat. “Can I bum a cigarette?”

The driver looked guilty when he met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Smoking in the cab is against the rules.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

He shrugged then handed her a cigarette and a lighter. She lit up and returned the lighter. An instant later, he cracked the windows and lit up, too.

“Thanks.” Bonita inhaled, letting the smoke punish her.
Was
she an emotional masochist? She didn’t think so. She didn’t get off on wanting Kat and not being able to have her, yet there was truth somewhere in Kat’s words. She could feel it. Kat had offered her everything, and she had run like hell. Why? Because she wanted to protect Kat’s career? Even Kat wasn’t protecting her career anymore. Why wouldn’t Bonita want to be with her if she was given the chance?

Bonita took another drag of smoke, enjoying it this time. One wouldn’t kill her, and breaking the rule was kind of exhilarating. Not something she would do every day, but a definite rush. She tossed the cigarette out the window, shocked by the thrill it gave her. She was in sorry shape if littering was fun.

She couldn’t make heads or tails of her emotions or the jumbled thoughts colliding in her head, so she focused on breathing, clearing the smoke from her lungs and the thoughts from her head.

She stared out the window trying not to think of Kat, but every passing bus held an advertisement for
Proprietors
. It felt as if Kat were following her, watching her flee from bus-stop benches, shelters and sleek signs affixed to ornamental light posts. Bonita winced as she saw Kat, larger than life, plastered across the side of an entire building. She closed her eyes to block everything out and didn’t open them again until the taxi rolled to a stop.

The driver pointed down the sidewalk. “Venice Beach dead ahead.”

“Thanks.” She paid with her credit card and got out of the taxi.

The street was lined with shops. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of a café, so she headed toward it. When she stepped inside, the rich, heady scent of coffee reminded her of the cup she’d left in Kat’s sink. She nearly bolted out the door, but a broken heart wasn’t going to make her give up coffee. She perused the pastry case, torn between the hazelnut croissant and the Comte sage bialy. She got both, not trusting herself to make the right decision.
All or nothing.
It was easy to choose all when it came to pastries, but not so simple when lives were involved.

The barista presented her cappuccino with a flourish.

“Lovely,” Bonita croaked, staring down at the triple-layered swirl of foam hearts.

She sat at a small table in the back and methodically worked her way through the savory bialy, peeling the bubbly bits of brown cheese from the top and eating them first. Even though her own heart ached, she couldn’t bring herself to drag her finger through the foam and destroy the barista’s creation, but as she sipped, the hearts disappeared, bit by bit, until there was only the merest suggestion of a curve in the bottom of the cup. When the bialy had been reduced to cornmeal and crumbs, she started in on the hazelnut croissant, hoping if she stuffed herself, she wouldn’t feel so empty, so full of…nothing.

She’d known it was a mistake the minute she’d arrived at Kat’s door, but it had been too late to stop. The match had been lit, and it burned. Now everything was ruined, demolished by Kat’s reckless ultimatum, and all they had left were ashes. The sweet treat turned bitter in her mouth. How could Kat be so selfish?

She stood and gathered her dishes, leaving them in a bus tub and dumping her trash in the can. She stepped out the door and began walking. The sun was higher in the sky, but the air felt cool and damp, thick with the scent of salt and living things. She paused to admire some white flowers growing on a chain-link fence. A second too late, she identified the blossoms and swayed, clutching the fence for balance, sucker-punched by the scent of jasmine. There was no escaping Kat.

A couple of guys carrying surfboards passed her on the sidewalk, and she trailed after them, discovering a boardwalk lined with more shops, street vendors, henna tattoo artists, skaters and people of all kinds. Music blared, changing every ten feet, as she moved along the boardwalk. The chaos matched the tumult in her heart, and she kept pace with the crowd, uncertain of her purpose. If she had wanted to leave Kat, she’d be at the airport by now. Why wasn’t she?

After walking the length of the boardwalk and all the way back, she was no closer to an answer. She ducked out of the crowd and trudged across the sand, although she doubted the ocean would have any answers for her, either. She felt lost, adrift, and she’d left her anchor flattened against the wall. The memory of Kat’s devastated expression made her cringe, suddenly desperate for confirmation that she’d done the right thing.

There was one person she knew who always told the truth. Bonita dialed before she could lose her nerve.

Crystal answered immediately. “Come Again is fine. No worries here, boss.”

“I had no doubt.” Bonita forced a laugh. “I wish I was calling about business.”

“If it isn’t business, I assume it’s pleasure. How goes the Hollywood hookup? I saw a picture of you and a certain goddess of the silver screen in the entertainment section of the paper this morning. It didn’t take an empath to feel the vibe you two were putting out. Way to go, but you’re going to have your hands full with that one.”

Bonita imagined Crystal winding her long, black hair up into a loose knot on top of her head, letting it fall, finger-combing the dense, black waves and looking smug.

“You have no idea.” Relief poured through her. Of course Crystal would understand. “Did Destiny tell you she and Johnny gave Kat topping lessons?”

“Lucky bitch.” Crystal chuckled. “No, but Destiny’s been impossible ever since you left. She’s probably afraid you’re going to fire her.”

“She deserves it,” Bonita said darkly.

“Are you sure she doesn’t deserve a raise?” Crystal’s voice rippled with amusement.

Bonita ignored the question. “Can I ask you something?”

“Fire away.”

“Do you think I’m an emotional masochist?”

Sudden noise arose in the background. “I have customers. Hang on a sec.”

Bonita identified laughter, the crinkle of paper and the distinctive tinkle of the bell on the front door of Come Again. While she waited, she slipped off her sandals and made her way through the families on the beach until she reached the ocean. After dipping a toe in the cold water, she meandered along the shore, avoiding seaweed, sharp bits of glass and pointy shells.

After a few minutes, Crystal came back on the line. “I wouldn’t say you’re an emotional masochist. More like your average, everyday control freak.”

“What? I am not.”

“See? You even want to control the way I see you. Remember when I tried to read your emotions at Alisa’s wedding and couldn’t even slip in through a crack?”

Bonita’s cheeks heated at the memory of their fake make-out session when Crystal had used her as a decoy date. For a split second, Crystal, with her long, dark hair and bad-girl persona, had reminded her of Kat, and her emotions had snapped out of control. She’d put a lid on them—fast—which had given Crystal a clue to how tightly she controlled her feelings the rest of the time.

Bonita sighed. “Does that explain why I said no when Kat offered to come out of the closet for me?”

“Seriously? You said no? That picture in the paper looked like yes to me.”

“I can’t do it, Crystal. It would ruin her career.”

“Nothing could touch that juggernaut. Women want her as much as men do.”

Bonita shook her head. “So says the bisexual psychic. Forgive me, but you don’t exactly have the same viewpoint as mainstream America.”

“But I’m the one you called for advice,” Crystal said cheerfully. “Suck it up, Buttercup. If you’re going to kick Wesley to the curb, you better come up with a good reason.”

Bonita snorted. “
Princess Bride
analogies—really?”

“Again…you called me. I’m assuming it’s because you want me to tell you to quit fucking around and be honest with yourself.”

Even without using her empathic abilities, Crystal knew how to get to the heart of the matter, leaving Bonita no choice but to do the same. “She left me, Crystal. When Kat turned eighteen, she left for Hollywood, and now she says she made a mistake. Twelve years apart, and now she’s like
‘Oh, let’s be together.’
I can’t do it. It hurt so much when she left. Her career was more important than me. I’ve understood that for years, and now she’s changed her mind. What if she changes it back?”

It would kill her. That was the power Kat held over her, the ability to break her. If she had asked Kat to stay in Norton and Kat had said no… If she had joined Kat in Hollywood when she turned eighteen, and Kat hadn’t wanted her there… If she stayed with Kat now and Kat didn’t want her forever…it would break her. Wasn’t it better not to take the risk?

Sudden understanding made her shiver, and it had nothing to do with the brisk wind. She walked to dry sand and sank down, defeated. “I’m a control freak.”

“But you’re a really great control freak, sweetie. You have a successful, well-run business. Your filing system is truly inspired. You’re perfectly put together at all times, never a hair out of place, makeup always immaculate. Nobody messes with you because you’ll crack their gonads and hand them back in perfect pieces. When the pressure to perform gets too much, you go to Johnny’s club and relinquish control for a little while—under very controlled circumstances, of course, just like every good control freak should.”

Her words, so similar to Kat’s resentful complaint, stung like salt in a wound. “Hey, I already admitted you were right. Why are you rubbing it in?”

“Because half of an epiphany isn’t going to do you much good. Keep digging… You like control, so what? Why did you say no to Kat?”

Bonita held very still and let the truth rise to the surface, unimpeded by fear or desire. “I can’t control Kat. She’s a wild card…reckless…impulsive. I never know what she’s going to do. Being with her is a risk, and I hate taking risks. As long as I get to decide when we see each other, I have some control over her.”

“Good girl.” Crystal’s voice was laced with laughter and deliberate irony.

“Oh, shut up. If you tell me I fit the submissive profile, I’m going to fire
you
,” Bonita grumbled.

“Are you sure about that? Because ever since you left, my rich boyfriend has been filling my head with all kinds of ways to improve business at Come Again. I was kind of hoping you’d offer to sell me the business so you could move to Hollywood and permanently hook up with the hottest movie star on the planet.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Trust me, I know how you feel. Uncertainty sucks. Rejection sucks. Being told no sucks—”

“I hate being told no,” Bonita broke in as another truth hit home. Kat was right about her parents, too. “I heard that word so often growing up I quit asking.”

“What’s the alternative to asking for what you want?”

Living a lie, coloring between the lines, never having the one thing she wanted more than anything else…

All or nothing.

“Tell Ryan to make me an offer.”

Exhilaration soared through her, the rush of endorphins making her dizzy.

“Atta girl,” Crystal cheered. “How did that feel?”

“Like freedom.” Bonita felt sweat trickle down her side. The fear was still there, but she wasn’t going to let it control her anymore. “Kat might not want me back…but I won’t know unless I ask.” Risk,as she had recently learned, had its own reward, at least in the best-possible-case scenario. In the worst-possible-case scenarios, she’d be living without Kat either way.

“I think Kat sounds perfect for you. She’s wild in all the ways you’re restrained, but I bet she needs your stability every bit as much as you need her to push you out of your comfort zone. Do you trust her? Really trust her? With your heart, your life, with everything?” There was no laughter in Crystal’s voice now. “Her coming out of the closet would be a big deal, so don’t tease her unless you are dead certain it’s what you want too. She’ll be counting on you.”

“I trust her.” With a sense of wonderment, she realized it was true. Kat’s ultimatum had scared the hell out of her. Kat never said anything she didn’t mean. She might be moody, hotheaded and stubborn, but she was also clear-sighted, intuitive and honest. If she said she was coming out of the closet, she meant it.
Oh God.

“I’ve got to go,” Bonita gasped.

“Go get her, sweetie.” Crystal blew a kiss and hung up.

Tucking her phone in her pocket, Bonita turned and raced back toward the street.

Chapter Six

When Herb barreled through her front door, Kat was lying on her back in the hall. She hadn’t moved since Bonita left except to call the guards to tell them to let Herb through the gates. She looked up at him, too tired to be anything but honest. “I get that this is way out of your realm, Herbie, and I don’t expect you to give a shit. But I was happy. Really happy. And those fake pictures fucked it up for me. Bonita left.”

“Kat, you told me to spin it. I did the best I could.”