Brooklyn Heat (11 page)

Chapter Nine

Kenley woke up the next morning at eight o’clock, surprised to find that she was still on the couch. She’d slept soundly, not waking once during the night, something that was rare for her. Chad was next to her, breathing softly, his arms wrapped around her body. Panic swelled up inside her as she realized what had just happened. She’d slept with him. The one thing that she had promised herself she would not do, no matter what.

She couldn’t believe it. Yes, Chad he was hot. And yes, he’d been nice to her last night, taking care of her after she’d run into Jeremy. But one night of niceness shouldn’t have allowed her to let her hormones take over.

She’d practically begged him to have sex with her! Her face heated at the thought of the things she’d said last night. They hadn’t even gotten around to eating their food.

She thought of the delivery man who’d probably ended up waiting outside, finally going away when he realized no one was going to answer his knock. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing herself to be in some kind of nightmare. But when she opened them, she was still there, in Chad’s living room.

What a horrible mess. Okay, she thought, and took a deep breath. It was time to regroup. She was going home tomorrow. All she had to do was make sure she stayed detached today, make sure the press got some pictures, and then she could collect her money and go home.

She slid out from under Chad’s arm, careful not to wake him, and then headed for the shower.

***

When Chad woke up, sun was streaming through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. He squinted, then stretched out on the couch lazily, reaching his arms behind his head. From the other side of the apartment, he could here the sound of Kenley showering.

He smiled, remembering the way he’d felt last night, how amazing it was, how close he and Kenley had been. He wondered if she was going to stay longer, if she could just stay here, in his apartment, indefinitely. No, that was ridiculous. Of course he couldn’t ask her to just uproot her life and just move here. But after last night, there was no way he could let her go home tomorrow. First things first, he told himself. Shower.

Then breakfast.

He headed for the master bathroom and got into the shower, letting the hot water beat over his skin. He ignored the hardness between his legs, doing his best not to think about Kenley, how amazing it had felt to be inside her. They had all day, he realized, smiling to himself. They didn’t have to anywhere -- they could just curl up inside and be with each other.

He whistled to himself as he dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. When he got to the kitchen, Kenley was still in the shower, so he started opening cabinets, thinking about what to make for breakfast. Omelettes, he decided, and began pulling out the ingredients. He was chopping tomatoes and peppers on the cutting board when Kenley finally appeared.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, moving toward her. She was fully dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, a long black cashmere sweater, and black boots. She smelled amazing, like fresh strawberries and lilacs. He moved in to kiss her, but she immediately pushed past him toward the refrigerator.

She pulled out a carton of juice. “So what are we going to do today?” Her tone was slightly removed. Not unfriendly, but just a little bit… guarded. Clipped. Like she was in a business meeting, instead of in the kitchen of a man she’d made love to the night before.

“Whatever you want,” Chad said. He gestured around the kitchen. “I’m making omelettes.”

“Do you mind if I just take my juice into my room? I want to make a few phone calls, let my mom and my sister know I’m okay.”

He nodded, disappointment welling up inside him. He’d just assumed that she would feel the same way he did after the night they’d spent together. But obviously she didn’t. Maybe for her it was just about sex. If that were true, it would serve him right--–

over the years there had been a lot of women he’d used just for sex.

“And then after I’m done with my phone calls,” Kenley continued, pouring her juice into a glass, “we should go into Manhattan, head for all the places where there might be actual paparazzi. You know, Fifth Avenue, maybe Nobu or Balthazar or whatever other swanky restaurants famous people hang out at. You’d know better than me.”

“You sure?” Chad said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. “We could just hang out here today if you want.”

“I’m sure,” Kenley said. “I need to make it up to you for bailing last night.”

Chad nodded. “Okay,” he said finally. “Whatever you want.”

***

Kenley took her glass of juice into her room, her heart pounding in her chest. She set her drink down on her nightstand, then flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Chad’s face when she’d told him that she wanted to go into Manhattan today. He’d seemed disappointed. But why? Was it possible that maybe he felt the same way she’d been feeling after last night? That maybe he’d wanted them to spend the day together, just hanging out, getting to know each other? He
had
said they could hang out here. Of course, when she’d said no, he hadn’t fought her on it.

No, she told herself. He was just trying to be nice. There was no way last night meant anything to him other than sex. And there was no way she was going to let herself believe it was anything more than that.

She reached over and grabbed her cell, then dialed her sister. “Hi,” she said when Melissa answered. “How’s it going?”

“Mom is freaking out,” Melissa reported, not bothering with any pleasantries.

“She can’t believe you’re dating a famous baseball player, and she wants to pick you up from the airport tomorrow.”

“No,” Kenley said. “Tell her no way.” Her mom showing up at the airport would be awful. She’d be barraging Kenley with questions, asking her where she met Chad, what he was like, if it was serious. The ride would get more and more uncomfortable, until Kenley would be forced to either lie to her mother, or tell her the truth. She wasn’t sure what would be worse.

“You tell her!” Melissa said. “I’m sick of doing your dirty work.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t deal with it.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell her! So if you don’t tell her, I guess she’s just going to be there at the airport tomorrow, waiting for you.”

“Not if she doesn’t know my flight number,” Kenley said.

Melissa was silent on the other end of the line.

Kenley sat up in bed. “Melissa,” she said. “Please tell me that you did not tell Mom my flight number.”

“I had to!” Melissa whined. “And you should consider yourself lucky. She was about two seconds away from driving to New York and pulling you back to Connecticut by your hair.”

“Great,” Kenley said, and sighed.

“So how’s it going over there?” Melissa asked. “That picture of you two kissing is all over the place, it even got posted on the US Weekly website.”

Wonderful. Now Kenley would have a constant reminder of Chad. A picture of them kissing. “I have to go,” she told Melissa.

“Why?”

“Because we’re going out,” she said. “I’ll call you later.”

She hung up the phone. She could hear Chad clanging around in the kitchen as he made breakfast. She had no idea how she was going to go out there and face him, how she was going to be able to pretend that last night had meant nothing to her. She felt the prickly heat of tears starting in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It was going to be okay, she told herself. It was going to be okay because she was in complete control. She wasn’t going to let her guard down. All she had to do was get through the day, keep her cool, and make sure that the paparazzi got some pictures of her and Chad together. And then tomorrow she could leave and never look back.

Chapter Ten

“How about Gucci?” Kenley asked. “Aren’t there always tons of paparazzi at Gucci?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” Chad said. They were walking together in Manhattan, and Chad was doing his best to try and keep Kenley away from all the places he thought there might be photographers. He was afraid that once they got their picture, Kenley would decide that she wanted to go back to Brooklyn, and then once she got there she’d barricade herself in the guestroom and not emerge until he had to take her to the airport tomorrow. Keeping Kenley away from the cameras was not an easy task. She was like a woman possessed.

“I always see them hanging out there,” Kenley said, dodging a man holding a big Louis Vuitton bag. She looked at the Louis Vuitton logo, a pensive look on her face, like maybe she was considering ditching her Gucci plan and looking for paparazzi at Louis Vuitton instead.

“Where?” Chad asked.

“Near the Gucci store!” Kenley said, sounding exasperated.

“No, I mean, where do you see them?”

“On reality shows,” she said. “TMZ, that kind of thing. And when I googled, it said that you can usually see paparazzi hanging out in that area of the city. It’s supposedly where all those reality TV socialites shop.”

“Well,” Chad said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “I don’t think photographers really congregate down there unless they know there’s a celebrity in one of those stores. You know, like if they get tipped off.”

She sighed. “Can we stop walking for a second?” she asked. “My feet hurt and I’m starting to get cold.”

“Absolutely,” Chad said, brightening at the idea that she was getting deterred from her mission. “Why don’t we go sit down and grab a coffee and figure out our next step?”

She hesitated, looking around, probably trying to figure out how off track this was going to make them when it came to her master plan. “Okay,” she said finally. “But I don’t think we should waste too much time hanging out in a coffee shop. We’re definitely not going to get noticed there.”

Ten minutes later, they were tucked away in a booth in the back of a Starbucks, Chad with a black coffee and Kenley with a pumpkin spice latte. The air in the café was warm, and Chad took off his brown leather jacket and draped it over the back of his chair.

He hoped Kenley got the message that he was planning on being there for a while.

“So what should we do?” Kenley asked. She was looking at him for the answer, cupping her hands around her latte. Her nails were painted a pale pink color, and Chad resisted the urge to reach out and hold her hand.

“I don’t know,” Chad said, pretending to think about it. “I think it’s great that last night we got some fans to take pictures, but maybe the paparazzi thing just isn’t going to happen. I mean, I don’t know where else to go.” It was a lie. There were a million places her could take her, the kind of places that would definitely get them recognized, the kind of places that were crawling with paparazzi. And if he got really desperate, he could always take her out tonight to some clubs, the kind of trendy, hipster spots that those Kardashian sisters were always hanging out in. Hell, he could take her to the Kardashian store if he wanted to go that route.

“Can’t you call in a tip or something?” Kenley asked.

“A tip?”

“Yeah like when you call the paparazzi and let them know where you are? Like, on purpose? Isn’t Paris Hilton always doing things like that?”

“I wouldn’t know who to call,” Chad lied again. He took a long sip of his coffee.

Kenley narrowed her eyes at him and then sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s up with all this not wanting to get our pictures taken together?”

Realization dawned on her face. “Are you.. are you
embarrassed
of me?”

“No!” he said. “No, not at all.” The situation was starting to get away from him.

She was too smart not to be suspicious of all the stalling he was doing. Shit. He looked around the restaurant nervously, then took another sip of his coffee, trying to figure out what to say. Jesus, this woman had him on the ropes. And then he had a brilliant idea.

An amazing, wonderful, perfect idea.

“Listen,” he said, and leaned across the table. He gave her his patented grin, his Chad Parnell I-can-get-anything-I want grin. “New York isn’t really the place to be if you want to get noticed.”

“What?” She slammed her latte down on the table. “Then why the hell did you bring me here?”

Kenley’s eyes were blazing, and so Chad quickly tried to backpedal. “No, no, I mean, it was definitely good that you were here. We needed to make it seem like we were in a relationship, and so you being here, at my apartment, was necessary. And having those pictures taken by fans helped, too.”

“Okay….” she said, waiting for him to go on.

“But obviously there’s no paparazzi here,” he said. “They’re in L.A. Like,
really
in L.A. So I think that maybe what we should do is go there.”

Kenley choked on a sip of her latte. “To
Los Angeles?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding. Then he sighed, like he couldn’t believe it had come to this. But in reality, what he couldn’t believe was that he’d come up with such an amazing plan. He’d take her to California for a week, and that’s where he’d win her over. He’d make her see that he was serious about her, that he wanted to build a future with her, that he knew they hadn’t known each other that long but he had never been more sure of anything in his life. By the time they left L.A., she’d know. She’d know that he was falling in love with her. And he’d make sure she was falling in love with him.

“I can’t go to L.A.,” Kenley said. “Are you crazy?”

A couple of women in the booth next to them looked over, and Chad gave them a reassuring smile, hoping to God that they didn’t recognize him. They gave him tight smiles back, the kind of smiles you would give to a random man in Starbucks who you were afraid was about to get into a screaming fight with his girlfriend and ruin your coffee date.

“I know it sucks,” Chad said to Kenley, shaking his head sadly. “But we’ve come this far.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That was not part of the deal.”

“I’ll, um, you know, up the ante of course.” He’d pay her whatever she wanted.

Her phone rang then, and she rummaged through her bag. “Hello?” she said.

“Are you serious? Are you sure? Okay…okay… okay.” She gave him a thumbs up and then hung up her phone.

“That was my sister,” she said, sounding excited. “And she just saw on twitter that a bunch of people spotted George Clooney at some restaurant called Norma’s having brunch. If we hurry, we can get there.”

She was already moving toward the door, dumping the rest of her coffee into the trash bin. Chad sighed, and then after a minute, he followed her. So much for his brilliant idea.

***

By the time they got to Fifty-Seventh Street, Kenley was out of breath. If she’d known she was going to be running around the city, she would have started going to the gym. Or at least not worn boots with heels.

Norma’s was in a hotel called the Parker Meridien, and when the front entrance came into view, Kenley was disappointed to find that George Clooney was nowhere to be seen. But a loose tangle of paparazzi was gathered outside, and Kenley sped up when she saw them. Thank God for Melissa. For once Kenley was thankful that her sister was such a busybody.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Chad’s sleeve and dragging him along down the sidewalk. What was his problem? Why was he moving so slow? This was his chance to get their picture taken! “What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “Hurry up!”

He upped his speed, but only slightly. No matter – they were almost in front of the restaurant now. She grabbed for Chad’s hand, and his grip tightened around hers.

His fingers felt warm and strong and safe, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself one moment of pretending that she really was Chad’s girlfriend, that she was really here with him, that they were going out to brunch like a normal couple, and not just as a fake couple scrounging for a paparazzi picture.

But as soon as she had the thought, she instantly felt guilty. Forget him, she told herself. You are not going to get all crazy about some guy just because you had sex with him. It’s a funny story, that’s all, something to tell your future husband. Not that her future husband was probably going to be too amused by her agreeing to spend a few days with Chad Parnell for a hundred thousand dollars. Or by the fact that she’d ended up sleeping with him. Maybe she didn’t have to tell her future husband about the hundred thousand dollars. Of course, leaving out the money aspect didn’t necessarily make the story sound that much better. And did she really want to start her future marriage off by being dishonest? Probably not. Everyone always said that the minute you started lying to your spouse, you ---Flash! Snap!

The cameras started flashing and popping in front of her face. It was weird, she thought, as Chad pulled her close and she smiled and posed. Just a few days ago, the camera had felt like an intrusion. Now it felt like something she wanted to go after, some kind of necessary evil that was going to help her get home. She posed this way and that, even going as far as to kiss Chad on the cheek. Finally, after the paparazzi had gotten so many pictures that Kenley was being to think they might be getting bored, Chad opened the door to the restaurant and Kenley stepped inside.

“That was perfect,” she said, feeling giddy. It was over. She could go home. She clapped her hands and twirled around the lobby. Of course, going home didn’t change the fact that she’d slept with Chad. And it didn’t change the fact that if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn’t want to leave, she didn’t want to go home, she didn’t want to be away from him. And it certainly didn’t change the fact that she had no job back in Connecticut, and nothing to really look forward to when she got there. She stopped twirling.

“Yeah,” Chad said, his tone cold. “Perfect.” He was walking toward the hostess stand, his strides long and angry.

“Where are you going?” Kenley asked, rushing after him.

He turned around. “I figured we should eat,” he said. “Since we’re already here.”

“But you just had an omelette,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I’m hungry.” He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving her standing there by herself. She looked around, not sure what to do. Was she supposed to go with him? Did he want her to? She didn’t understand why he so angry all of a sudden. She’d done exactly what he’d wanted. Hell, she’d even had sex with him!

And that’s when it hit her. That was exactly the reason why he was being like this. Now that he had what he wanted from her, now that their little arrangement was over, there was no reason for him to be nice to her. Her eyes burned with tears, and she tried to blink them away, but they spilled down her cheeks. She wiped at them angrily with the back of her hand. Whatever. She didn’t need Chad Parnell. She’d go back to his apartment and bury herself in his guest room, she’d refuse to talk to him, she’d take
herself
to the airport tomorrow, and she’d never talk to him again. Well. That last one was more for her benefit than his, but still.

She thought about not taking his money, because that would really show him, but then she decided that no, she’d earned that fucking money, and she was going to have it.

She left the restaurant. The paparazzi were standing in a loose knot on the sidewalk, drinking their coffees, smoking their cigarettes, and still waiting for George Clooney.

This time, they didn’t pay any attention to Kenley.

She was in a cab before she realized that she didn’t have a way to get into Chad’s apartment. She’d never gotten a key. Shit. Why hadn’t she thought to get a key? Well, because the idea was for them to be together twenty-four seven. She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. What a fucking disaster this whole thing was turning out to be. Why the
hell
had she slept with him?

“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked, sounding bored.

She thought about it. No way she was going into that restaurant after him. She didn’t trust herself not to make a scene, and besides, she didn’t want to see him. She could always go back to his apartment anyway, but then what? Sit there in the lobby and wait for him, putting her life on hold while he ate some stupid, ridiculously overpriced breakfast? Forget it.

She’d spend the afternoon in New York doing what she wanted, and go back to the apartment later. She had a couple hundred dollars left on one of her credit cards, and she decided that she deserved to spend it. She was about to become a hundred thousand dollars richer anyway.

So she told the cabbie to take her to the one place in New York that seemed the most appropriate for her situation.

“Bloomingdale’s please.” And then she settled back into her seat and braced herself for the ride.

***

The hostess at Norma’s was taking Chad to his table when he realized what a complete ass he was being. Kenley had come to New York to help him, because he’d asked her to. And now here he was, pitching a fit because she was trying to get their picture taken together, which is what he’d brought her here to do in the first place. It was a shitty thing to do.

It was just that she’d seemed so happy just now, twirling around like that in the lobby, like she was psyched that their time together was about to be over. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much, and he certainly wasn’t used to feeling this way about a woman. But still. That didn’t give him an excuse to act like a prick.

“Excuse me,” he said to the hostess. “I’m sorry, I…I have to go.”

He ran back outside, scanning the street for Kenley. But he didn’t see her anywhere. A few of the paparazzi started snapping more pictures of him, and a couple others looked up when they saw the flashes, hoping maybe George Clooney had finally made his appearance. When they saw it was Chad, they seemed disappointed.

“Hey,” Chad said to one of them, a woman who had long blonde hair and was wearing a black baseball hat. “Did you see where my girlfriend went?”