Okay—she had no idea if he really was a playboy, but what were the chances he wasn’t? He wore a leather necklace—pretty much a playboy’s tramp stamp.
She wouldn’t be weak, and she wouldn’t let her hormones get the better of her again. So she stood up with all the hauteur in her body, not wanting to let on how much the sight of him affected her. “Hello, Will Shaw,” she said calmly, as if he wasn’t delicious.
Looking behind her, he asked, “Where’s Karma?”
“She goes by KT, and she couldn’t make it.” She walked into his office and went directly to the couch, perching on the edge instead of lying down on it. She wasn’t the patient here.
Will pulled a chair closer and sat across from her. “You could have called instead of coming all this way to tell me your sister couldn’t make it.”
“I didn’t want to stand you up on such short notice.”
“You care about that?”
“Don’t get any ideas in your head. In a former life, I’d have been all over you, but I know better now.”
An amused spark lit his face. “And why is that?”
“Are you shrinking me?” She narrowed her gaze. “I’m not the patient here, my sister is.”
“But you’re here and she’s not.”
“Don’t try to be clever.”
“Sorry.” He covered his mouth with his steepled hands.
“I still see the edges of your smile.”
“You caught me.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs, his smile in full bloom. “What would you like to talk about?”
Everything. Her stalled career. The fact that she hadn’t been able to write a song in forever. Her miserable love life. The lightness she felt when she knew she’d see Will.
And nothing. She lived out loud, but in her core she was a private person. She knew she had walls, but they were there for a reason. Look what happened with Brice—she let him scale the walls and he stabbed her in the back.
The problem was that she already trusted Will. What was up with that? She barely knew him.
Knowing he was waiting, she decided to ask him something innocuous about KT, but what came out of her mouth was, “Have you ever had your heart broken?”
“Haven’t we all?”
She pointed at him. “Don’t play the therapist card here. I want to know about you.”
He gazed at her silently. She didn’t think he was going to answer but then he said, “Fair enough. Barbie Crenshaw. I met her sophomore year of college.”
“
Barbie?
” Bijou couldn’t hold back her snicker.
“Short for Barbara.”
“Shouldn’t that have been a clue? Never date a woman named after a plastic doll.”
“She was as far from the Barbie archetype as they come.”
“But she broke your heart?”
“She was the one who got away.” A faint smile curved his lips.
She hated Barbie.
“Who was yours?” he asked.
“My what?” She batted her lashes as if she were clueless.
“Don’t play games with me, Bijou. You know what I meant.”
Exhaling, she dropped the act. “Brice Bryland.”
Will frowned. “The rock star?”
Only because of her song, the backstabbing fink. “Why do you sound so incredulous? I’m surrounded by rock stars just by virtue of who I was born.”
“Tell me about him.”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “He’s an ass.”
Will’s expression became an impartial mask. “Apparently you still have unresolved issues where he’s concerned.”
“The only unresolved issue I have is that his balls are still intact.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“I don’t understand, Bijou. You’re here, but you don’t want to discuss your past.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. “What are you trying to accomplish? You obviously have a motive.”
“I want KT to feel comfortable enough to go on stage.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“I think your motives are more personal than that.”
She laughed mirthlessly as she stood up. “It doesn’t get more personal than that because if KT doesn’t perform, I don’t either.”
He stood, too, and walked her to the door. “I don’t know about that. I have a feeling you’ll do what you set your mind to, regardless of anyone else.”
She turned around, but the words on her tongue fled when she realized how close he was. She only had to lean a little to touch her lips to his.
Which would have been crazy. She stepped back, her spine hitting the door post. “I’ll bring KT next time. Same time, same place?”
“If you want.”
“I do.” Her cheeks flushed, remembering saying those words to him in her wedding dream, but she hurried out before he could wonder about her guilty thoughts.
Chapter Seven
It took KT twice as long to find the foundation as it should have, mostly because she got turned around on Valencia once she got off the bus. By the time she arrived there, she was twenty minutes late.
She pushed open the door to the Purple Elephant, wanting to go home and forget about all this, but she couldn’t. It killed her to see the resigned look on her sister’s face, like Bijou expected her to let her down. She couldn’t let Bijou down but performing was even less an option. She’d make her plan work.
“KT?” a woman asked.
She turned to see a slight woman. She had curly hair streaked with orange pulled back into an elaborate braid-ponytail. She wore a striped top and paisley skirt in reds and purples and greens, and she somehow made the outfit look fashionable. Despite the cacophony of colors, the most striking thing about her was her bright smile.
“You look like Bijou,” the artist said, linking her arm through KT’s. “I mean, Bijou uses more war paint, but underneath you have the same look.”
“Most people don’t see it.”
Gwen shrugged. “I have an eye for detail. Do you know Lola Carmichael?”
“Should I?”
The woman chuckled. “She’s a famous romance author, but fortunately she doesn’t have much of an ego. She volunteers here, too.”
Gwen led her to one side where a beautiful blonde sat in deep conversation with a boy, both their heads bent over a notebook. They were so engrossed that they didn’t notice them until Gwen touched the blonde’s shoulder.
The romance writer looked up, brow furrowed. Then her gaze flicked to KT, and her frown cleared into a smile. “You’re Bijou’s sister. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“None of it is true.” KT pursed her lips and considered. “Except the story about me pushing Rod Stewart into the swimming pool.”
They both laughed. Gwen turned to Lola. “KT is here to teach piano.”
The laughter faded from Lola’s face. “To Ashley?”
“Yeah.”
The writer looked at her with pity. “Good luck with that.”
She looked between the two women. “What haven’t I been told here?”
“Ashley is just spirited,” Gwen said. “She has a good heart.”
“Uh-oh,” KT said under her breath.
Lola smiled ruefully at her. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Gwen showed her to a room at the back where there was a battered upright and a Goth girl leaning on the keys, looking bored.
KT stifled a groan. “Is that Ashley?”
“She’s actually a sweet girl.” Gwen wrinkled her nose. “Underneath all the black eyeliner and the dog collar.”
She nodded, not convinced. It wasn’t the nose ring or dog collar, which was kind of cool actually, or the all-black wardrobe. It was the look on her face, all teenage disdain, and the way she started sullenly jabbing A-minor over and over the moment she saw them approaching.
Next to her, Gwen sighed. Then her smile brightened determinedly and she said, “Ashley, this is your piano teacher, KT.”
The girl looked up, her scowl fierce.
KT pulled a stool alongside the piano. No way was she sitting on the bench with the little viper. Gesturing to Gwen that she had this, she waited until the woman was gone before leaning toward the girl and lowering her voice. “First of all, cut out the act. I know that tactic. I use it all the time. You’re not going to scare me away.”
The girl looked at her disdainfully and hit the key harder. “Whatev.”
She put her hand over the girl’s to stop the noise. “I can tell you don’t really want to be here so let’s just get something straight, Ashley.”
The girl lifted her elfin chin. “Call me Spike.”
KT rolled her eyes. “Fine,
Spike
. I don’t care whatever you did to land you here. I need to pretend to teach you music, and you need to pretend to learn, so suck it up and let’s get on with this.”
Ashley glared at her. “You’re not touchy-feely like the other adults here.”
“No, I’m not.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “So you want to learn how to play or not?”
“Not.” The girl mimicked her pose, sitting back and glaring.
“Fine.” KT just stared at her steadily.
She thought that Ashley would lower her gaze after a while, but she was impressed that the girl kept up the staring match. It went on the whole time they were supposed to be learning scales. At the end of the hour she watched Ashley huff off.
“Interesting teaching method,” Gwen said from the doorway with a smile on her face.
“Stay tuned for next time when I show her how to
not
read notes.”
“It’s hard sometimes at first, but she’ll come around. She wants this.”
That
she found hard to believe. “If you say so.”
Gwen laughed. “See you here on Friday.”
“Unfortunately.”
Still chuckling, the woman wandered away.
KT liked Gwen. She shouldn’t have been surprised—Bijou was a good judge of character, except for that jerk she’d dated, Brice Bryland. But he’d been a blip on the screen. KT supposed everyone, even Bijou, showed a lapse of judgment sometime.
On her way home, she checked her messages. One from Bijou trying to get her to go to a therapist and three from her mother about trying on dresses for the concert.
Like hell.
Afraid that they’d be lying in wait for her at her cottage, she had the cab driver drop her off at the Carrington-Wright’s. She let herself in through the kitchen, smiling when she saw that Celeste, their cook, had left out a plate of cookies for her. Chocolate chip, of course.
She grabbed two cookies and headed to the spare bedroom where she normally hid. It had a big, comfy bed in the sun for naps and the largest TV known to mankind with a million cable stations. Her parents didn’t believe in TV, so they didn’t have any. KT always thought about getting one, but she never got around to shopping for it.
The door to her room was closed. Strange. She shrugged and opened it, plopping on the bed straight away as she munched on a cookie. She reached for the remote on the bedside table.
Her fingers landed on a watch. A man’s watch.
Frowning, she sat up and looked around the room. The room wasn’t as tidy as usual. Men’s clothing piled on a chair and one Nike running shoe forgotten in the middle of the room.
Someone was staying in her room? The only person staying with Elise, as far as she knew, was Chance.
Belatedly, KT registered the sound of running water in the attached bathroom—and the sound of stillness with it stopped. Was Chance in there?
It took nothing for her mind to picture him naked with water running down his body. In her mind, she saw him from behind, his broad shoulders narrowing to a vee at his waist. His butt was muscled and taut.
Wait—she gave him a tattoo of a spade on his left ass cheek. Perfect.
The bathroom door rattled, startling her out of her daydream.
Eyes wide, she started to scoot off the bed.
But then the door swung open, and Chance and his pig emerged.
Everyone froze.
Her eyes fell to the towel, hanging low on his hips. He was lean and muscled, with sexy abs like David Beckham’s. She had first-hand experience with Beckham’s abs—because of her parents, of course. They hung out poolside with him and Victoria every summer.
Chance’s body was
way
sexier than Beckham’s. She should have imagined him from the front.
What was she thinking? She should stop staring.
Yeah, right. KT had to swallow a few times before she could speak. “This is my room.”
He raised his brows. “I thought you lived next door.”
“Yeah, but this is my hideout.” She frowned. “There are a million rooms in this house. Elise put you in this one?”
“I liked the bed.” He studied her, his hand holding the towel in place. “I like it better now, though.”
She flushed, her cheeks burning, as she read his thoughts. They weren’t far off from hers.
Except they weren’t really dating. But if they were …
She needed not to think about things like that. She rushed off the bed so quickly she tumbled off.
He didn’t seem to notice. He opened a drawer and pulled out underwear, the tight boxer kind in gray.
She
liked
gray.
“I, um”—she tripped over her feet—”have to go.”
He turned around. His towel slipped a little. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Because things didn’t seem very pretend at the moment, and they’d definitely stop being pretend if she stayed. “See you around.”
The pig, Ante Up, snorted as she left. To her ears, it sounded like he was laughing at her. Frankly, she couldn’t blame him.
Chapter Eight
“You had a visitor yesterday.”
Chance looked up from reading news on his phone, still surprised after the two weeks he’d been there to have someone talk to him. He and Elise had formed a late morning ritual of sorts. Since she woke up much earlier than him, she joined him for tea as he had his breakfast.
It didn’t surprise him, though, that she’d know about KT’s visit. Elise Carrington-Wright was a matriarch, and she had a finger in everything around her.
But that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for her. “What sort of visitor?”
“A female visitor.”
He recognized that Elise was testing him in some way. It wouldn’t surprise him if she were disapproving of him using KT as a decoy girlfriend. It sounded as though KT grew up in this house as much as her own.
Except KT felt like more than a decoy—he was going to remain hopeful about how much more. Until then, he was going to tread cautiously. “Oh?”