Kiss the Sky (9 page)

I laid out the pros and cons in a spreadsheet, outlining all
the reasons why I should be in the show. Mostly for Cobalt Inc.’s benefit.
Exposure. Putting a face to our brand. It’s something that my mother wants but
has never been able to do.

 
The only risk is bad
press. Fizzle and Hale Co. stocks dropped considerably after Lily’s sex
addiction was publicized. I was distanced enough from Rose’s sister that Cobalt
Inc. didn’t suffer, but I’m edging myself closer to the
Calloways
.
My mother has voiced her mild disapproval. She doesn’t like taking risks or
getting her hands dirty. But that’s why she has me.

“Where are the cameras?” she asks, diving right in.

“There are only three cameramen,” I explain again. “They
won’t follow me if I’m not with someone else. So if you’re worried about them
coming into this building—”

“I’m not.” She pulls out her smart phone and simultaneously
types an email while she speaks to me. “I’m worried that this girl is going to
ruin you.”

“Her name is Rose, and she’s not going to
ruin
me.” She’s never met her, but
they’ve both been pressuring me about letting them have coffee together or
brunch. I just don’t see what good will come of it. And so I make excuses about
my mother never having time to see Rose. And Rose never having time to see my
mother. It’s a shit thing to do, but I’m certain they’ll hate each other. I
also believe Katarina will try to run Rose out of my life, and I want her
firmly by my side.

My mother pockets her phone and her eyes darken with
displeasure. “She’s a powerful girl who started her own business as a teenager.
She’s driven, independent, and passionate.”

All the things I admire, and yet, I know she’s about to turn
every quality into something sinister and wrong.

“Working women don’t have men. We can’t keep relationships.
We are married to our careers.” She announces each sentence like a nail in a
coffin, pounding down the reality around me. “The children we do have are sent
to boarding schools or are raised by nannies. It’s the life I wanted, even at
the sacrifice of my husband and my child. You don’t want to walk into that,
Connor. You’re smarter than that.”

I refuse to stare at the table, to look away from her dark
blue eyes. I meet her powerful gaze with one of my own. Her words may affect me
to some degree, but I won’t ever show it.

I don’t talk to my mother about my relationships very often,
and any mention of Rose usually accompanies some sort of disparaging snort and
blasé brush off. When I told her that I was moving in with Rose, she wouldn’t
speak to me for weeks. She’d prefer that my girlfriend moved in with
me
. Not the other way around. I was
willing to uproot my life for Rose, and according to Katarina Cobalt, other girls
would have gladly walked into my home. In her eyes, I chose a path that doesn’t
benefit me.

I had to use Steve Balm as an intermediary just to talk to
her during that time.

Our communication reopened only after I explained the
reality show and how it can help Cobalt Inc. if I take the right steps.

“You need to set your sights on a girl like Caroline
Haverford,” she tells me. I internally grimace, but I don’t let on that her
name sends knives into my spine. I dated Caroline. I fucked Caroline. But it was
business. Like my relationship with my mother. Like my life.

Is it so bad to want something real?

“I’m with Rose,” I say sternly. “That’s not going to
change.”

Her nails rap on the table, frustrated. Katarina Cobalt
always gets what she wants, and this is the first time I’ve put on the brakes,
unwilling to give in to her requests.

“Caroline will be there for you. She’ll have time for you.
Rose won’t. You’ll grow resentful and bitter of each other. And as years pass,
you’ll realize you’re sleeping next to a stranger.”

“Are we still talking about
my
relationship?” I ask her with an arched brow.

Her lips press in a tight line. “Do you love her?”
 

“Love is an irrational feeling,” I say. I hate that I
actually believe these words. “It makes smart people do stupid things. My
relationship with Rose is…stimulating.” I think I’m a sociopath.
Fuck.
I need to see Frederick.

“Good,” my mother says with a nod. “No need to make this
into some tragic Shakespearean tale. At least she hasn’t corrupted your mind
yet.”

My mother rises from her chair and straightens her pencil
skirt.

“I’d like to meet her,” she tells me for the thousandth
time. “Schedule an appointment with Marci, and if you don’t, I’ll call Rose
myself. We don’t need you to lie for us anymore.”

Her heels click away, leaving me to picture the impending
meeting of Katarina Cobalt and Rose Calloway.

There will be screaming. Yelling. Possible bloodshed.

Though she’s resilient, I’m not so sure Rose will come out
victorious this time.
 

My cellphone chimes and I see the name flash across the
screen.
Scott Van Wright.
Wonderful.
 

When I answer the phone, I make sure I have the first words.
“Scott, how sweet of you to call, I was beginning to suspect you didn’t like me
very much.”

“Why would you get that idea?”
You want to fuck my girlfriend.

“You like Rose better.” I throw out the bait, testing his
response.

“I do like her better,” he tells me. “She’s prettier.” I
wait for him to add something crude like “and she has a pussy” but he doesn’t.
Either I’ve been hanging around vulgar people for too long or he’s censoring
himself.

“Many men would disagree,” I say casually. “So why the
sudden call?”

“I’m picking up food from the grocery store. I thought I’d
get some of Rose’s favorite things. What does she like?”

“Me.”

He lets out a laugh. “This phone call is being filmed, you
know. I have you on speaker.” He says it like he caught me in a spider’s web.

“She also loves my cock, my hair, my brain, my body—”

“Yeah, she loves you so much that she’s
still
a virgin.” He must have discovered that from an interview. Or
maybe footage of someone mentioning it. Rose isn’t ashamed of being a virgin at
all, so I could see her admitting it to the cameras.

“And you’re her ex-boyfriend,” I say blankly. “She has
intimacy issues, and it’s not a far reach to conclude it’s from your impotence.”
None of it is true, but I hope he airs this.

Doubtful
.

He snorts.

“Oh, and she loves dark chocolate,” I say.

“I’ll just grab the condoms. How’s that?”

I clutch the phone tighter. “You’re asking for my permission
to have sex? That’s kind. And the answer is no. I’m already taken.”

He laughs dryly. “You’re a fucking prick.”

“I’ve been called worse,” I say, my voice casual still. “But
I’m the prick with the girl. And she’s not inflatable.”

“I’ll see you at the townhouse,” he says, ignoring my
comment. “You’ll be back really late, right? You’ve got work, college. All that
shit. Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll keep the girls company.”

He hangs up, and I replay the conversation in my head. He
unnerves me more than any other human being, and the fact that I don’t have to
impress him makes my lips unnaturally loose.

He called me. To fuck with me.

It’s working.
 

[ 7 ]

ROSE CALLOWAY

“You’re not supposed to look at the cameras,” I
remind Lily for the umpteenth time. She’s trying to ignore Ben and Brett as
they film us from two different angles, but I can tell they make her uneasy.

At least without Loren around.

Her boyfriend seems to take her mind off of everything else,
melting her nerves to a placated pool.

Lily tags along by my side as I bustle around the kitchen
and make a Cobb salad to bring with me to the Calloway Couture offices. I try
not to overanalyze why she’s become glued to my hip.

She leans in to whisper, “What if I have a booger or
something in my nose?” Her eyes flit anxiously to the lens again. “Or what if I
get sauce or cheese or peanut butter all over my face? I’m a messy eater. Are
they going to use the footage?”

I set the carrots on the counter and when I turn around, I
almost bump into her again. She steps back and I place my hands on her
shoulders.

 
“I don’t have any
control over editing,” I tell her for
another
umpteenth
time. I also want to tell
her that she doesn’t have to do this. That if she wants out of the show, I’ll
be okay. I’ll be happy.

But that’s not the complete truth.

The success of Calloway Couture relies on this show, and the
success of the show relies on Lily and Loren.

“I’m going to get over it,” she tells me, reading my
expression well. “It’s just new. New things are always kind of scary, you know?
Well, you probably don’t know.” She laughs nervously. “You’re not scared of
anything.”

That’s not true either
.
I was scared not long ago. Terrified. Someone—who I will not name—put his thumb
in my mouth. And I think I liked it.

My phone buzzes on the counter, and I wipe my hands on a
towel before I swipe the screen. I have two new texts.

The first:
5 months
and 20 days until the wedding
– Mom

I’m not even surprised at this point. I receive a daily
countdown from her, reminding me that I’ve taken responsibility of planning
Lily’s wedding.

I open the second text to distract me from all the things I
still have to do.

Prince Charming, Robin
Hood, Beast –
Connor

Really? I texted him three brilliant female authors and he
gives me Disney characters to choose from? Oh, he’s starting a war.

I type quickly, not even having to think twice about my
choices.
Kill. Marry. Fuck.

Less than a minute after I hit send, I receive another
message.

You would fuck the
Beast over Robin Hood? Explain.

You’re not even going
to mention me killing Prince Charming?
Deflection in a text is my
specialty.

Not surprising. I
would kill Prince Charming as well. Always believing every girl needs to be
rescued from a tower. He’s an
asshat
.

I smile, my stomach fluttering at his words.

“Is that Connor?” Lily asks, eyeing my smile suspiciously.

My lips level and she peers over my shoulder to try and read
the text. I hold it close to my chest, and her eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Are you texting naughty things?” she asks with glee.

Should I be?
What
couple texts about killing off Prince Charming? If I seriously evaluate my
relationship with Connor, it will rank somewhere closer to strange than normal.

My phone buzzes again, but I don’t pull it away from the
security of my blouse. “What do you and Lo text about?”

Her face wrinkles in thought. “Well,
I
text him things I’d like to do. And he usually replies with a
generic
okay
even if at times he’s a
big fat liar and we don’t do it anyway.” She shrugs. “He’s a brief
texter
.” Her smile brightens at another thought. “But
sometimes
he’ll randomly send me
messages like this…” She holds up a finger for me to wait while she opens her
flip-phone with her other hand. The old device doesn’t have internet or apps.
The less temptations for her to look at porn, the better. “This is what he
texted me last week.”

She raises the phone to my face. Brett and Ben’s cameras try
to zoom in on the screen. Lily cups her hand around it protectively.

I read the text quickly.
I
miss your pussy.
– Lo

How eloquent. Lily practically beams. “He doesn’t do
foreplay texting,” she explains. “So whenever he sends something dirty, it’s
like Christmas.”

She motions to my phone. “What does yours say?”

“Just work stuff,” I answer evasively.
 

I type back:
Robin
Hood is a
manwhore
. I’d want to join the Merry Men,
not join a notch on his bedpost. The Beast is probably a virgin.

As soon as I hit send, my stomach falls. What the fuck did I
do? I blame Lily who peers over my shoulder as I type, distracting me from
rereading the message.

I basically just admitted to wanting to have sex with a
virgin.

Connor is
not
a
virgin.

I don’t have time to think. The doorbell rings. I pad across
the kitchen and living room to answer it, leaving Lily by the refrigerator. I
glance back for a quick second to make sure she doesn’t crumble without my
presence. I relax when I see her focused on my salad, slicing cucumber.

Ben follows me with his
steadicam
contraption, and without Lily constantly eyeing the lens, I have an easier time
pretending he’s invisible.
 

When I open the door, my entire mood shifts. I hope I’m
giving off the “I’d rather murder an entire bale of sea turtles than be near
you” look. Scott Van Wright’s lips upturn into a cocky, holier-than-thou smile.

I must be doing something wrong.

“Most girls answer the door with a
hello
,” he tells me.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You are my work, Rose.”

Great.
I still
haven’t fully wrapped my head around the fact that Scott lives with us. I woke
up at five in the morning with Connor just to use the showers when no one else
(mainly Scott) was up to view the outline of my naked body. I
know
you can see shadows through the
misted glass doors. I’m not an idiot.

And now he’s here.

He will always be around, I realize. I just have to fucking
deal with it.

He holds up plastic grocery bags. “I come in peace.” His
eyes dip down to my dark blue blouse with gold buttons on the shoulders. The
cut is just slightly lower than the one I wore for the psychic party, but a
gold necklace disappears between my breasts, the chain accentuating my small C
cups more than usual.