Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) (20 page)

“Fine,” she snaps. “Sit your bony ass down. I will cut it shorter, a lot shorter, but you’re not coloring your hair.”

“Fine,” I snap back, plopping back into the seat.

Ember fiddles with her phone, turning up the volume loud enough for the song
Toxic
to echo against the four walls of the small room.

Shaking my head, I laugh. “Seriously? You’re going Britney Spears on me?”

She nods, grinning. “You bet your sweet ass I am. I figured since you’re channeling your inner Britney, might as well add the soundtrack.”

“I am
not
channeling my inner Britney. This is not a psychotic break. You are not shaving my head. I just needed a change.”

She eyes me with a wry smile, holding up the scissors. “Sure. If you keep lying enough, maybe I’ll become stupid enough to start believing you.”

“Stop stalling and start chopping.” Within minutes, I’m watching strand after strand unceremoniously fall to the floor. And Ember cringes with each quiet snip of the scissors.

“Don’t be such a baby,” I tease. “It’s just hair.”

“Yeah, coming from the girl who would barely let me trim off two inches,” she mutters, eyes focused on the task at hand. “Tell me what in the hell is going on. Seriously, Brooke, I know you better than this. You’re doing this for a reason.”

The track changes to
I’m a Slave 4 U,
and I laugh. “Really, Em? Is this her Greatest Hits album?”

“Shut up. You know you love Brit just as much as I do. I have several memories of you sporting half-shirts and singing
Hit Me Baby One More Time
into your hair brush.”

“Oh my god, let’s not replay those memories,” I groan, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

She giggles. “I’m going to keep bringing up your embarrassing teenage years until you spill the beans. I’ve barely skimmed the surface with Britney. There’s still that notorious hair crimping phase you went through…”

I meet her knowing expression in the mirror. Once Ember is determined to find something out, she’ll do pretty much anything to get her way. And since I’m stuck in this chair for the time being, and I’m desperate to talk to someone besides my therapist about this, I decide to open up a little. “If I tell you this, you can’t judge me.”

She holds both hands up, scissors in one and comb in the other. “I’m your sister and I love you. I’ll never judge you.”

“Something happened in Paris.”

Ember stays silent, focusing on my hair, and knowingly avoiding eye contact so I don’t lose my backbone.

“I met this guy. He’s gorgeous and wonderful and I know you’d love him. I was
with
him. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with him.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure?”

I roll my eyes. “So, this guy…well…I kind of just left him in Paris. I left him without a good explanation. I took the coward’s way out. I was in far too deep and couldn’t face telling him goodbye. I just couldn’t. What I did, Em, it was pretty horrible.”

“Does Jamie know about this?”

“No. And that guy, well, he’s in LA now.”

Her jaw drops. “
Here?
In
LA?
Holy shit. Have you seen him?”

My head nods in two subtle movements.

“Wow. Okay, so who is he? Where is he? I mean, what in the hell is going on? Did he come here for you?”

“He didn’t exactly come here for me. He sort of signed on with a music label, and his band is working on their first album.”

Her nose scrunches up in confusion. “What label?”

“Wallace & Wright.”

“Wait. His band signed with your label?”

“Nigel and I are currently working on producing their debut album.”

Fingers stop abruptly in my hair. Her eyes blink several times as she processes the bomb I just dropped. “He’s with
Careless Cockups
? The same band that’s the sole reason your pretty face is now being filmed for a reality show?”

Nodding, I respond, “His name is Dylan Bissette, and he’s the lead singer.”

“Holy. Hell.”

“I know.”

Ember is silent for a several long minutes. The
snip, snip, snip
of her scissors is the only thing filling the too quiet room. “Brooke…I don’t even know what to say. Are you okay? I mean, this is insane. How hasn’t Jamie found out about this? How are you working with this guy every day?”

I don’t know why, but tears fill my eyes. My lids blink against the drops of emotion, pushing it past my cheeks. “I have no idea how Jamie hasn’t found out. I have no idea why Dylan is staying so quiet about it. Well, at least when it comes to everyone else he’s quiet about it. He’s made the way he feels pretty clear to me in private.” I inhale a shaky breath. “God, I don’t know why he didn’t out me the first day he saw me in that conference room, and Alistair introduced me as Jamie’s fiancée. This is a mess, Em. A giant, fucked up mess.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“I think only the guys in the band. One of whom is his brother. I actually hung out with Jesse and Alex in Paris. I didn’t meet Zach until they came to LA.”

“Jesse Bissette? The hot drummer?”

I groan, laughing despite myself. “Oh my God, not you too.”

She laughs, smirking at me. “What? He’s fuckhot. I won’t deny that I stalk his Instagram. And I’ve seen pictures of Dylan, by the way. The apple does not fall far from the tree, if you know what I mean.”

Laughing, I admit, “Lindsay knows Jesse
pretty well.
They met when she surprised me in Paris.”

“That lucky bitch. I swear, she’s like my sex idol. That girl gets to bang all the good ones.”

“The perks of being a hot model,” I add, completely in agreeance. Lindsay definitely has her pick from the hot guy cookie jar. “And for the record, you could be with anyone you want, but you never let yourself.” Which is so true. Ember is gorgeous, but too focused on Teddy and the store to let herself find someone. I can’t remember the last time she went out on a date.

She waves me off. “Oh, shut up. We’re not talking about my lack of a love life right now. We’re talking about you and this crazy, convoluted, clusterfuck of a situation you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Aptly labeled.”

“What are you going to do, Brooke?”

“I have no idea.”

“How much longer do you think you can hide this from Jamie? That can’t be easy. Especially when you’ve got a seriously ticked off rock god who’s probably about ready to blow the lid off your secret rendezvous any second. Do you really think this guy is going to be able to keep it quiet much longer?”

“I don’t know, Em. I really don’t know.” I stare at her concerned reflection in the mirror. I wish I had an answer. But I don’t. I’m not sure of Dylan’s motives. A part of me wonders if he’s staying quiet about us because the man who gave his band a contract just so happens to be the father of my fiancé.

And I’m conflicted, torn between telling Jamie the truth and facing the aftermath of what it could mean for him, and hiding the truth and continuing to hurt Dylan.”

“Not only do you have to work with him on a daily basis in the studio, but now you’re in a reality show with him?” Ember questions, voice baffled.

“Yeah, it’s not a good situation. I think my therapist might need to prescribe me Xanax just to survive this.
If I survive this
.”

“Just raid Millie’s weed stash. That’ll help relax ya,” Ember teases.

I huff in disbelief. “Millie doesn’t have a weed stash.”

She laughs, nodding her head. “Oh, yes, she does. I’ve helped myself to it a time or two.”

“
What?
No, you haven’t.”

“Don’t be such a narc. I’m a single mom, running a store, and dealing with a crazy four-year-old all by myself. Believe me, I’ve had a few nights with Mary Jane. She’s wonderful, by the way. I quite enjoy her company after a long day of working and chasing after Teddy.”

“I can’t believe my baby sister is toking up after she puts my nephew to bed,” I say in mock disappointment.

She taps my head with the comb. “You wanna know where it’s hidden, don’t ya?”

I laugh. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do.”

“Kitchen pantry. The black shoebox on the top shelf.”

“Millie was hiding weed in the kitchen?”

Ember cracks up, nodding her head. “So, this definitely answers my question regarding her final letter. You obviously haven’t opened it.”

I tilt my head in confusion. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I also got a letter. And one tidbit of wisdom she left us was the coordinates of her reefer stash.” Ember smiles. She grabs the spray bottle off the shelf and dampens my hair again. Her fingers part my locks before the scissors resume their snipping.

I can’t believe my sister had the balls to read Millie’s last letter and I haven’t. Actually, I take that back. I can believe it. Ember has always been stronger than me in that aspect. She doesn’t shy away, doesn’t waste time on avoiding things. She faces shit head on. It’s one of the things I love and admire about her.

“When are you going to get the balls to read her letter, Brooke?”

I shrug, closing my eyes as she twirls a few curls with her fingers. I’m pretty sure having someone play with your hair and massage your scalp is pretty darn close to heaven.

“You remember what tomorrow is?” she asks, voice quiet.

“Millie would have been eighty-one. Not like it matters how old she would have been, though. If she was alive she would still be telling people she’s sixty,” I reminisce, smiling at the thought. Once she reached the age of sixty, she refused to acknowledge her real age. The woman loved celebrating her birthday, her sixtieth birthday that is, over and over again.

Ember smiles at me through the mirror. “God, she was a ballbuster. I swear, if I’m half as vibrant and full of life as she was at eighty, I’ll have lived one hell of a life.”

“So true,” I agree. “God, sometimes I wish I could channel her vibrancy.”

“I think you should open the letter tomorrow. In honor of her birthday.”

I don’t respond, and Ember doesn’t prod. She knows me well enough to understand that it’s going to take some serious strength to open that letter. Strength that I’m not so sure I have right now. Losing Millie has been hard. I miss her everyday. I miss the way that woman could get me to let loose and live in the moment. Even in death, she got me to leave LA and jet set to Paris. The woman was an enigma, a one of a kind person that was truly larger than life.

I miss a lot of things,
every thing.
I miss her wise words and bubbly personality. And I miss our little traditions. Every year on her birthday, we would fly to Portland and spend a few days in the city before road tripping to Vancouver for some vintage shopping. Eventually, we’d head to our final destination, her favorite place in the States, Pacific City, Oregon.

That yearly trip had become one of the highlights of my year.

But now, I’m not sure I could do it without her.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Ember asks.

I start to shake my head, but realize I actually do have plans. Well, I think I have plans. “Yeah, I think I do. I mean, I’m supposed to work with Dylan on a song, but our last conversation didn’t exactly end on a good note. I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds an excuse to
not
work with me on writing music this weekend. Although, Nigel was pretty insistent about it…”

“What’s Jamie doing this weekend?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. His mother is in town, and I know he had plans for lunch on Saturday, but other than that, I haven’t a clue. He’s been crazy busy at the label. I think Alistair is secretly working him to death just to see how much bullshit he’ll handle. And you know how Jamie is when it comes to his father…”

Ember lets out a knowing sigh. “I know our parents aren’t anything to write home about, but sometimes I think I’d rather tolerate their negligence than having to deal with Alistair Wallace’s wrath on a daily basis.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, sis. And I couldn’t agree more.”

A few quiet moments pass between us. Ember focused on my hair and I got lost in my thoughts. “So, tell me the truth. Do you love him?” Her question pulls me back to the present.

I inhale a sharp breath, holding it in my chest until my lungs sting; forcing me to release it on an audible exhale. “Yes. I love him. I’m in love with him. I can’t help the way I feel about Dylan. I know it’s horrible, but I can’t stop loving him, wanting him,” I respond without a second thought. Of course, I love him. I’m in love with Dylan. It’s why I’m tied up in knots. It’s why I can’t seem to walk away from him.

Her face turns serious. “I was actually asking about Jamie, but that’s interesting that Dylan’s the one who came to mind when I asked you about love.”

“Oh.” My eyes go wide.

Ember watches me for a moment, taking in my shocked expression. “Listen, I can tell by the panicked look on your face that you’re not ready to take this conversation any further, but I want you to think about what you just said. I want you to really think about it, Brooke. Don’t just shove it under the rug and avoid it, okay?

I nod, watching her set the scissors and comb down on the vanity.

Her fingers tousle my now, much shorter hair. “You need to search deep within yourself and decide who truly makes you happy. And you need to decide this sooner than later. You’re engaged to be married to Jamie, and soon there is going to be pressure to plan the wedding,
which don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been avoiding that topic like the plague.
You deserve happiness, and if Jamie is the one who makes you happy, then marry him, and I’ll be there watching you walk down the aisle and supporting you.”

“And if he’s not?” I whisper.

Her hand grips my shoulder. “Then I’ll still be here supporting you in whatever you decide. You don’t owe anyone anything, Brooke. Just because you said yes to Jamie doesn’t mean you have to marry him. People fall out of love. People get engaged and then call off their engagement. Sometimes, it takes a monumental leap towards marriage to help someone understand that they’re not where they’re supposed to be. And that’s okay. If that is what’s going on, it’s okay.

“You’re happiness is top priority. And your happiness is the only factor that should be taken into consideration when you decide what you really want to do. Not Jamie’s. Not Dylan’s.
But yours.
You’ve always been a bit of a martyr, constantly putting everyone else’s needs above your own. I think
now
is the time for you to do what Brooke wants. Do what makes Brooke happy.”