The Revolution (22 page)

I laugh. “And I still choose to work with you.”

“Why are you wearing so much makeup? That’s not like you. Special client?”

“No, just got some freebies and trying them out.”

His non-response grabs my attention. When I look at him, he asks, “What did you do to your eye?”

My hand flies up in response and I cover it and turn away. “Nicked myself with the damn flat iron. Don’t you have work to do?” I sidetrack him and walk into the closet.

“Going. Going.”

The quiet of the room signals it’s safe to exit. Lane’s gone, but he leaves a message written on the mirror in red lipstick. There’s a heart and the word “you.” Although he can’t hear me, I smile and say, “Heart you too, my friend.” And I do. Especially. On a daily basis, he provides color in my very dark world.

Today I will try to avoid everyone as much as I can. I’ll either be caught or a pro by the end of the day. Burying myself in my work will be nothing new. My team understands my passion and supports it, so I become a professional by the time six o’clock rolls around.

TWO HOURS OF
lying in bed with a raw steak on my face, three different creams promising to reduce bruising, and a day later, I’m almost ready for the awards. They’ve been working. Thank goodness. I couldn’t have a makeup artist do my makeup for the awards or they would see. So I spend the afternoon doing it myself. By the time I’m done, nothing is visible.

The strapless blue dress I choose to wear is fitted with a mermaid bottom. I wear a single strand of diamonds around my neck. Simple, but beautiful.

I dread tonight. The cameras. The attention. Mark.
The Resistance.
Kaz. I dread it all. I will go only because I have to. Sleep was replaced with thoughts whirling like a dervish last night. I know what I have to do to get the much-needed leverage back, but I also need to earn Mark’s trust back in the process.

Mark shows up on time. When I open the door, he looks me over disapprovingly. “I want you in black and something short. Go change.”

“This is a designer dress, Mark. It’s perfect for the red carpet.”

“I said go change. Make it fast or we’ll be late.”

Closing my eyes, I try to calm the anger that’s awakened inside, and take a deep breath while turning to go upstairs. To my back, he says, “Snap. Snap. Chop. Chop.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” I snap before I think. The glare I send over my shoulder is instantly reduced by the fury burning in his eyes. My knees weaken, but I reach for the railing to steady myself in front of him.

The change in him is physical, all his anger dissipating before my eyes. His shoulders ease and a small smile appears. “Please change. Black always looks good on you.”

I’m not sure how to handle him, or his mood swings. Wordlessly I go to my bedroom and walk into the closet. I have at least five little black dresses and three of them are formal enough to work for the night, so I pick the prettiest since I’ll be photographed, and slip it on. My shoes are exchanged for Louboutins, and my handbag is a black beaded clutch. I spend a few extra minutes putting concealer on my knees. It will hold for a while, hiding the damage, but I bring it with me when I hurry back out. Surprisingly, I’m greeted with a big smile. “You look beautiful, Lara.”

Ignoring him and his worthless compliments, I walk past him and out the door. When he comes out, I lock it and follow him to the car waiting to drive us. The ride is quiet. Mark plays on his phone. At one point he gets engrossed in a text conversation that I notice he purposely hides from me. A stupid grin is on his face as he reads the messages. He’s definitely still fucking someone else or plans to soon. Another reason why I’m so confused that he wants me by his side. It’s humiliating.
She
knows about me, but is happy to fuck him anyway. It’s the first time I’ve ever regretted making an effort when it came to becoming who I am. I had convinced myself otherwise, but he’s proved I’m weak. I’m practically a bull’s eye for his target practice. I can’t live like this. I won’t. He has to be stopped. Somehow. Some way. I will play along until I have enough information to bury him. One opportunity is all I need to destroy his computer and back-up Cloud.

On the red carpet, I wait in the wings while he has his photo taken over and over. Some photos are taken of us together. I have a hard time smiling when my emotions are getting the better of me, but I manage for the most part.

The fans in the stands scream loudly letting us know someone big has arrived. Mark turns to see over the crowded red carpet. I know he loves being famous and just below the surface his jealousy bubbles. He hates when others steal his thunder. When he turns back, he says, “Your little friends are here.”

I don’t have to see above the sea of bodies to know who he’s talking about. My heart races and I lift up to catch a glimpse of
The Resistance
. Even in platforms I’m not tall enough to see over everyone. Sharpness slices through my side and I grab hold with both my hands. Mark places his hand on my back. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I need to sit down. You finish here and I’ll meet you inside.”

Before he can weigh in with his thoughts, I hurry toward the hotel where the awards are being held. Once I’m inside, I frantically search for a bathroom. When I spot a restroom sign across the busy lobby, I walk fast, hoping no one notices me beelining it. The door is pushed open and I’m leaning against the sinks heaving for breath by the time I’m alone. My heart hurts so badly that I wonder if I’m experiencing the early signs of a heart attack.

The door opens again and an older woman walks in. “Are you all right?” she asks when she sees me.

I stand up, trying to appear as normal as I can. “I’m fine. I just overheated out there.”

She smiles kindly. “I hate these events and crowds, but my husband is nominated, so I come for him.”

“Congratulations to him. That’s quite an honor.”

She touches up her lipstick, then turns to me. “Thank you.” She smiles. “You’re looking much better now. You’ve got some color in your face again.”

I turn toward the mirror, something I’d been avoiding as much as I could. If it didn’t involve applying makeup, I wanted no part in seeing myself. “Yes. That’s good,” I reply, humoring her as I walk out, but stop to say, “Thank you and good luck to your husband.”

“Good luck to you,” she replies as if she sees right through me, sees the bruising on the inside.

Back in the lobby, the crowd has grown as more celebrities have made their way inside. I stand off to the side and look around. Mark is tall with broad shoulders and stands out in a crowd, but I don’t see him. He must be on the red carpet still doing interviews. I head to the bar and take a glass of champagne. I finish half before I lean against the wood bar top.

“Hi.”
That voice.
My heart begins to ache in ways it only does for one man.

I peek to my right and see Kaz’s eyes with their comforting warmth. Kaleidoscopes of chocolate make up their uniqueness, and as he looks at me, I feel his comfort, as though he’s wrapping me in his leather jacket like he did once before, warming me with his nearness.
He shouldn’t show me such gentleness, not after our phone call.
As if I hadn’t cruelly pushed him away, he reaches up and strokes his finger down my cheek. I wish I could lean into his touch, but I can’t. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I don’t deserve your kindness any more.

“The band was nominated.”

Daring to look at him though I know I’ll struggle to leave once I do, I correct myself. “I don’t mean at the event. I mean talking to me.”

His eyes narrow, so I turn away quickly. I look for Mark, making sure he doesn’t see us.

Kaz states, “I’m not scared of him.”

“I am.” I walk away, easily slipping through groups of people and escaping before I’m caught by Kaz again. I can’t have him involved in this mess.

I’m grabbed from behind and abruptly taken aback. Mark nods to the doors to the ballroom, and says, “Let’s go in.”

I nod and follow. His hand is wrapped tightly around mine until I’m at his side. He keeps his arm stiff so I can’t stray until we reach our table. Pulling my chair out for me, he’s the appearance of the perfect gentleman, but I know the monster lurking beneath. If only I’d seen the real him sooner.

Glasses of champagne are served and more drink orders placed. I don’t allow myself to look around the large room though it’s all I really want to do. I want to see him again. Breathe him in. Touch him. Be with Kaz. But there’s no use indulging in what can never be.

The lights go down just as the first course is served. The comedian should be funny, but this charade is drowning me. Mark touches my arm, and normally I would consider it gentle, but I don’t like him touching me at all so my skin crawls beneath his fingertips.

“My first award is up next. Wish me luck.”

I look at him, hating the man before me. If only the daggers I want to shoot him in my glare were lethal. “Good luck.” My reply is dry and as heartless as I can manage, the champagne letting my real emotions loose in the moment. But I calm, saving the stronger emotions for when I need the physical strength to handle him.

Over Mark’s shoulder, I see Kaz, the band, Rochelle, and Holli two tables away from ours. Kaz’s eyes are fixed on me. I want to look away. I really should, but I’m captivated by the man, entranced by the emotions he wears for me on his sleeve.

I shake my head and look away. At this point, Mark is winning his game, and until I can end this, I’m stuck.
I know too much. He could destroy me in one leak to the press
. Would Kaz be there after the fallout, after leaked tapes spread?

Mark wins his category and like a doting girlfriend, I play my part. There should really be an Oscar for this performance—showing my support while controlling my gag reflex. As soon as Mark’s on stage, I glance toward Kaz, but he’s gone from his seat. I see Rochelle instead. Her expression shows her sadness, which is understandable. In her eyes, I’ve returned to Mark. I wish I could tell her more, tell her the whole truth. I look away, not able to handle that right now. When Mark leaves the stage, I escape to the bathroom. Once inside, I stare at the reflection, staring at someone I barely recognize, someone I’m ashamed to be.

“You can’t say things like that then disappear on me.”

My eyes meet Kaz’s in the mirror. “Please go, Kaz.”

“What if I say no?”

I turn around just as he leans forward, trapping me between his arms. “I know you’re scared of him, but you don’t have to be scared of what you’re feeling for me, what I feel for you, or of us.” His lips almost touch mine, teasing me in ways I won’t be able to resist for long. “I see how you look at me. I see that same desire I feel inside for you in your eyes for me. You’re conflicted and guarded, but you don’t have to be. You can always trust me.”

“But you said—”

“Forget what I said the other day. I want you, Lara.”

“I WANT YOU
any way I can have you. I want you in my bed. I want to make love to you and then fuck you so you never forget me.”

I sigh, dropping my gaze to his chest. “I could never forget you.”

“Why are you doing this then? Why are you with him?”

“Because I have to be.”

“That makes no sense. I want you. You want me. I can tell.”