Hate Me (16 page)

He’s an asshole.

We’ve had this conversation before, Vincey.

“Vincey?
Does my mom not see the parallels between this movie and life?”

“I think
this
explains why she was planning to leave Tommy,” Cooper states. “But she’s looking at it from her perspective. I’d say your Brooklyn is in more danger than Tommy.”

“Shit.” I knead my forehead. “I hope Vincent shows up and thinks I’m back. I need to keep B safe. And I’m so grateful my grandpa is handling the takeover.”

“Are you in love with Aiden or Brooklyn?” Cooper randomly asks.

I frown at his question.
 

“I’m not trying to interfere in your love life, but . . .”

“Anyone I love will be in danger.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to be at Eastbrooke while we did this.”

Have you made a decision?

Yes. I’m not going. I’m sorry. I know you’ll have an amazing time without me.

Vince’s eyes smolder as he says,
Just answer me this. If he wasn’t in the picture, you’d go, right?

Tears gather in her eyes.
Yeah, probably.

Vince takes the candles out of her hands, sets them on the table, and pulls her into a hug.

She gives him a sad little smile and then says,
I better get back out there.

*
 
Not long after this, Still-Bikini-Clad Lacy screams again as Dead Partier #4 is found. It’s the girl who was upset earlier. Apparently, she and Lacy were close, because Lacy starts crying and Matt pulls her into a hug. After dead body #4 is found, the four remaining partiers finally sober up.
 

This is getting creepy,
Still-Alive Party Girl #5 says.
 

“I agree,” Cooper says.

I’m starting to think these weren’t accidents,
Matt deduces brilliantly.

I think you’re right,
Lacy agrees. She takes a band from her wrist and pulls her hair up into a high, tight ponytail.
 

I pause the movie and stare at the screen, feeling like I’m looking in a mirror.
 

The captain announces our decent and asks us to buckle up.
 

“We’ll watch the rest on the way back,” I tell Cooper, shutting off my laptop and stowing it.
 

We fly into Van Nuys Airport, which is closest to Malibu, easy to get in and out of, and one of the only airports in the Los Angeles area that has no hourly restrictions regarding when flights can take off. We don’t have the time to airport-hop, so I did something else to shield our identity. I opened a fractional ownership under Cooper’s name and bought a chunk of hours. I figure Cooper Steele kind of sounds like an actor, and he kind of looks like he could be one, too. With my darker hair and our comfortable relationship, we’ll easily pass as brother and sister.
 

Our pre-arranged driver picks us up and shuttles us to Malibu, dropping us off at the Malibu Lumberyard.
 

“We have time for some fish tacos,” I say, suddenly craving them.
 

“As long as you keep the wig on, I’m fine with it. I’m hungry. Besides, we need to go over your plan for tonight in detail.”

The restaurant is crowed, so we sit at the bar. Cooper picks a spot close to the doors to the kitchen. I notice he chooses a seat with his back to the wall, facing the crowd. I sit down next to him.
 

I look at the tables around us and spy someone I know. “Sand—” I start to blurt out loudly, but Cooper quickly covers my mouth with his hand.

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I forgot for a second.”

“You’re also wearing a wig.”

“Shit,” I say, glancing down at my brown curls. I close my eyes and think. “It might be a good idea for me to be seen here. As me.”

“If the goal is for Vincent to think you’re back in Malibu, I would agree. But we need a plan.”

After a brief discussion, I walk out of the restaurant with my head down and go into a nearby restroom, emerging as myself. I quickly go into one of the stores, buy a new outfit with cash, and then wear it back into the restaurant. As I make my way back to Cooper, I purposefully walk by Sander.
 

“Sweetheart?” he says. I smile, remembering his adorable nickname for me.
 

“Sander!!” I squeal, throwing my arms around him and causing a bit of a scene. “How are you? How’s
Grease
?”

“In the can. Big Memorial weekend release,” he says proudly, kissing me on the cheek.

“That’s awesome!”

He pushes me out and takes a hard look at me. “You look amazing. Where the hell have you been hiding? I come back and Cush is gone, and you’re nowhere to be found.” Then he whispers in my ear, “Rehab?”

I laugh. “More like an all-girls school in the middle of nowhere. You heard what happened with Cush, right?”

“Yeah. It’s a shame. That boy hit the jackpot when he dated you.”

“That’s why I love you. You feed my ego.” I give him another big hug.
 

“Join us for a drink?”

“Us?”
 

With his arm still draped across my shoulder, he turns me toward his group. “Keatyn, this is Danny Woodyard, the choreographer of
Grease
, Dylan George, one of the T-Birds, and Donnie Van Zandt, one of the dancers. Everyone, this is Keatyn Douglas.
Abby Johnston’s
daughter.”

The boys all ooh and aah over my mom and her acting brilliance.
 

Gay men love her.
 

“Can’t wait to see her new movie! It’s going to be just scrumptious.”

“So what’s your next movie?” I ask Sander, changing the subject.
 

“Not sure. I want to choose the right project. My agent called me yesterday wanting me to do a screen test for that remake of your mom’s old movie. Hey, we could star in it together. They want me to play the boyfriend. How easy would that be?”

Shit. I need Sander to stay far away from Vincent.

I grab the fruity martini they ordered me, take a big drink, and look toward Cooper. “Oh, wow. I didn’t even see him over there.”

“Who?” Donnie says, swiveling his head quickly, probably hoping to spot someone more famous than Sander.
 

“Cooper Steele,” I say, drawing his name out. “I’ll go get him. I feel bad making him sit over there and wait for me.”

“Girl, you should always play a little hard to get,” Dylan tells me.
 

I saunter over to Cooper. “You’re going to have to pretend to be really into me, okay?”

“Got it,” he says, all business as I grab his hand and lead him back to the boys. But as soon as I introduce him to everyone, he becomes a cad, stealing my martini, drinking half of it, and placing his hand firmly on my ass.

“So, Cooper Steele, where did you get all those muscles?” Donnie asks.

Cooper shrugs like he was just born this way.
 

“The Steele Building Workout,” I say discreetly.
 

“Sexy name for a workout,” Dylan says. “I dance too much. Can’t seem to put on any bulk.”

“Eat more protein and lift weights,” Cooper says. “You need to balance out all the aerobic activity.”

“Are you a personal trainer?” Sander asks, sizing Cooper up and noting his hand placement.
 

Cooper, who doesn’t miss anything, keeps his hand firmly in place, but starts caressing my ass with his thumb.
 

I give a cute little shiver and kiss him on the neck. “Cooper is one of Tommy’s stunt men. So, thanks for the drink. It was great seeing you, Sander, and meeting you all. We’re going to head out. I’m taking him dancing tonight.”

“We were thinking of hitting Plague. Where are you going?”
 

“To a place that doesn’t have a name,” I laugh.

“I’ve heard rumors about that place,” Danny says in awe. “Can we join you? Can you get us in?”

I glance at Cooper. He gives my butt a single tap of his finger. “Sure, why not? Can we meet up at your house, Sander?” I look down at my clothes. “Obviously, I need to change.”

“Sounds good. Ten o’clock? We can get there before the crowds.”

“Sander,” I tease. “I’m not going to let you drink with the crowds. We’ll be in the VIP section.”

Danny claps his hands together and grins. “Even better.”

Cooper puts his arm around me as we stroll out of the bar.
 

“That went surprisingly well,” he states.

“Hopefully, breaking into my house will go equally well.”

“Breaking in?”

“Not breaking in, exactly, but we don’t have a car for a reason. Come on.”

I take my shoes off and drag him across the street, down the beach, and through the fence delineating the start of the Malibu Colony properties.

“Are we going to get in trouble for trespassing?” Cooper asks after reading the warning signs.
 

“I live here,” I say, then I take off running, feeling free for the first time in a while.
 

I stop two houses before mine and point. “That one is ours.”

“It’s pretty here. I can see why you like it.”

I nod, looking out at the ocean. “You can sightsee later. We have work to do. No one’s around, so let’s go.”

I take off running again and don’t stop until we’re standing on the side of my house that’s hidden behind the fence. I sneak to the front, push one of Tommy’s codes into the keypad, and slip into the garage.

Cooper tries to open the door into the house. “Shit, it’s locked.”

“I know. Hang on.” I walk around Tommy’s Ferrari to a shelving unit where he keeps all the car cleaning supplies, pop open a cigar box hidden under a stack of diapers, pull out a key, and let us in.

The house security alarm beeps, wanting me to enter my code. I press in one of Tommy’s instead, quickly stopping the beeping.

“Whew,” I blow out a breath. “I wasn’t sure if they changed all the codes or not.”

“Why would they change your code?”
 

“I didn’t enter
my
code. We don’t exactly want to broadcast to Garrett that we’re here.”

“Won’t they know Tommy isn’t here?”

“I used the code he gave to the guy who details his cars. He has to come inside to get the keys,” I say, stepping into the kitchen.
 

I thought that when I got here I would be able to see all the good times I’ve had here.
 

But I don’t.
 

Instead, I’m reliving that night.
The photos dropping out of a manila envelope onto the kitchen island.
 

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and move toward Tommy’s closet, sticking to the mission at hand. “We need to find you something to wear.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing, it’s just not club appropriate. Hmm, Tommy’s a little taller than you.”

I open Tommy’s closet and step in.
 

“Whoa,” Cooper says. “This is like a store.”

“Tommy loves clothes.” I move to a section of long-sleeved shirts, pulling out a bright blue one with the kind of sheen you only get from fine cotton. “Try this on.”
 

Cooper strips off his long-sleeved t-shirt and, well, I can’t help but enjoy the view. Specifically, the sexy tattoo running across his abs.
 

He buttons up the shirt and tucks it into his cargo shorts. “Whatcha think?”

“Hmm. The sleeves are just a little long.” I unbutton his sleeves and roll them up. “Yeah, that will work. Okay, now we need pants. What size is your waist?”

“Thirty-four.”

I move to the wall of pants, find a black pair with a subtle blue pinstripe, and check the label, quickly translating the European size to an American one. “Let’s try these.”

“Dress pants? Can’t I wear jeans?”

“That depends. What size shoe do you wear?”

“Eleven.”

I smile. “Yes, if you’ll wear a great pair of shoes, I’ll let you wear jeans.”

“I can live with that.”

I throw him a pair of dark jeans and even though I’d like to turn around and watch, I give him privacy and focus on choosing a pair of shoes. One pair immediately catches my eye. I pull the black Pradas off the rack and study the pattern of perforations and the blue undertones, remembering Aiden in the same shoe at Homecoming.
 

Luck, I think.
 

Or maybe fate.
 

Either way, it couldn’t hurt to have a little of each on my side tonight.
 

I look at Cooper. “Hmm, something is missing . . . I know.” I grab a large, expensive watch, strap it on Cooper’s thick wrist, and nod. “Perfect.”