Celeb Crush (39 page)

I don’t say that out loud, but I accidentally let out an incredulous snort.  To cover it up, I clear my throat.  She immediately copies me, and my eyes narrow.  I feel like it’s turning into a competition now.

“Luke is a pretty private person."  I smile experimentally but it doesn't feel right so I stop trying.  “He doesn’t like the media knowing his personal life.  He’d be pretty upset if he saw you on some talk show, telling everyone his business.”

Amber Lynn suddenly raises her eyes to mine.  They’re brimming with unshed tears.  “I’m his
mother
,” she says passionately.  “I’m tired of not being able to tell anyone that Luke’s my son—and feeling like I’m an embarrassment.  I know I messed up in the past—but I am trying to make up for my mistakes!  He won’t let me, though.  He won’t let me get close.  I just want another chance.”

“And you think that you’ll get it by selling him out?”  I tactfully point out.

She flushes, moving a hand to her face.  “I want people to hear my side of the story,” she defends herself.  “Look…I had it pretty rough when I was growing up.  People was always looking down on me like I’m nothing.  Maybe they were right.  But now my kid is the biggest star in the world—and I can’t tell no one about it!  It’s not fair.”

“What are you—ten?!” I snap, jumping to my feet in disgust.  “You gave Luke just about the worst childhood he could have.  You abandoned him, only to come crawling back years later for money and favors.  And now you want to publicly embarrass him—all for bragging rights?”

“Don’t you judge me!  You don’t even know me!  And maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to talk, missy.  Didn’t you used to work for him?”  Her Bambi eyes flash at me as her brow furrows.  “So tell me—were you still getting that paycheck when you were having sex with my son?”

“I quit before we got together,” I inform her.  “Sometimes, afterwards, I like for him to pay me.  But with Monopoly money.  And you should talk about me talking.  Who’s paying
your
bills, Amber Lynn?”

She stands up abruptly, two spots of bright red color blooming on her cheeks.  "Don't go acting all high and mighty, Miss Thing!  You're here for Luke?  Bull!   You're in their back pocket just as much as I am.  I'm betting my son doesn't know you're here, does he?"

"He's not my pimp; I don't have to tell him where I am every second of the day.  I came here mainly because I wanted to see what kind of woman gave birth to such a beautiful and talented, and—and freaking incredible guy like Luke.  And now I know the truth—he was adopted!   Or, possibly, switched at birth.   Actually, that's a more likely scenario because I can't imagine you being awarded custody of a potato, let alone a tiny human being."

Amber Lynn’s mouth drops open.  It looks like she's about to protest, but I am on a roll.

"I mean, Jesus, woman!  You did drugs in front of your own kid.  You neglected him, you lied to him, and disappointed him over and over again.  You broke him in ways he doesn't even know about.  Then, you left him to be raised by the one person who's an even bigger asshole than you!  And, now what?  After years of no call, no show you crawl out from under your rock and expect Luke to save you from yourself.  And he does, because he's such a decent guy!  So you're going to repay him by going on national television and divulging family secrets that could potentially hurt his career?  What's next—a tell-all book deal?!"

By now the tears are just rolling down her cheeks, and she's shaking uncontrollably.   "Get out!  Get out, you hear?!"

"You get out!"

"This is my hotel suite!"

I glare at her.  "I can't stand to be here another second, anyway.  Good day."

I stomp dramatically toward the door, but something suddenly occurs to me, making me stop in my tracks.  I feel sheepish as I turn back to her.

"Um.  Can you do me a favor?  Don't tell Luke I came to see you.  I'm really not supposed to know where you are, so if you could just—I don’t know..."

"Get out!"

I huff.  "Fine!  But I'm taking this because you don't deserve it! "

By “this” I mean the picture of Luke as a little boy.  I run out before she can stop me.  The door slams shut behind me and I hear something probably breakable crash into it.   Wow.  Now I know where Luke got his temper from.

In retrospect, I realize that I shouldn't have gone off like that.  I'm pretty sure I accomplished the exact opposite of what I went there to do.  I just got so emotional, though.  Maybe it’s the dreams.  God, I need to talk to Dr. Pawlak.  I wish I could talk to Aunt Susan.  She made me want to pretend to be a better person.  Now…

I shouldn’t have yelled at Luke’s mom like that.  It wasn’t my place.  But it was like my mouth had rabies.  It just really got away from me that time, and…I’m almost embarrassed of myself.  What a waste of time.  I did get a nice picture of Luke, though.

I’m mentally beating myself up as I walk back to my hotel, when my phone beeps from an incoming text.  It’s from Jessica.  Oh, shit.  I open it up and there in angry caps is this ominous message:  WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Oh, shit.

Chapter 33

“She’s writing a tell-all book.”

“
What?
”

White flecks of toothpaste spray out of my mouth and hit the mirror.  I choke a little as some of it goes down my throat.  Gag.  Minty death.

I turn to Luke in horror, wiping at my foamy mouth with a towel.  “When did you—what did y—uh…why?  Why would she do that?”

Luke fills the doorway of the bathroom, his forearms braced against the doorjamb next to his head.  His expression is dark and furious.  He shrugs at my garbled question.  “Fuck if I know.  I talked to her last week, and she seemed fine.  She was even talking about meeting up for lunch one day.  Now she’s threatening to do the talk show circuit and write a book about my fucked-up childhood.”

“Oh, shit,” I mumble through my toothbrush.  I fastidiously continue to brush my teeth.  I am a monster.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees with a bitter half smile.  “Shit.”

When I’m done, I wipe off the mirror with a towel before turning to Luke.  “Well, you have a team of lawyers at your disposal,” I say.  “I’m sure there’s something Brian can do to shut her up.  Or, you know, there’s always Zig and his crew…”

He flashes me a disbelieving look.  “I’m not sending those guys after my mom, Tiger.”

He turns away from me and walks into the bedroom.  I follow him out, watching as he drops down onto the edge of the bed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  I hate that distant look of hurt in his eyes as he stares straight ahead.  This is my fault, damn it.

I stand in front of him, my arms folded over my stomach.  “There are non-violent ways to stop her.  Baby, you’re the most influential person in Hollywood right now—no one will want to piss you off.  You know what I mean?  Put the word out.  Anyone who talks to her will make an enemy of you.”

Luke doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.  Then he starts to chuckle.  “You make me sound like a mafia don, or something.  Shit, Tiger, she can talk to whoever she wants.  I really don’t give a fuck.”

“Uh…what?”

“Don’t get me wrong; I like my privacy.  You know I do.  But I don’t have anything to hide.  I grew up poor trash—so what?  I’m not ashamed of that.”

“Yeah, but…she’ll probably reveal really…intimate details about your family.  Like, shocking things—for entertainment purposes.  You’ve always been so vague to the media about your past, so they won’t be surprised if you’re hiding something big.  Huge, even.”

“Yeah, that was Jess’ idea.  She created this whole mysterious image for me; she said the less everyone knew about me the better.”  Luke rubs his elbow absently.  “My mom’s looking to cash in on my name—that’s her choice.  I’m not going to stop her.”

“But…what if she says something that could hurt your career?” I hedge, trying not to wring my hands together.  “You said you don’t know much about your relatives—what if you’re great-great-grandfather was a Nazi, or something?”

“Then I’ll make a big donation to the local synagogues.  I don’t know, Tiger.  I’ll deal with it.”

“Hey.”  I take his face in the palms of my hands, and force him to look at me.  “You’re hurting.”

“No,” he says almost too quickly.  He grasps my wrists pushing them down to my sides and holding them there.  “I was waiting for her to pull something like this.  I’m just surprised that it took this long.”

I bite my lip hard.  A heavy pain settles in my chest.  So many secrets kept from him, by people with their own agenda.  And I’m one of them.  I so badly want to tell him everything, but…how?  He sees me as honest; he trusts me.  I’m a coward.  I’d have to tell him about my relatively huge part in this mess, and I don’t know how he’d react to that.  He’s so frigged up about his mom.  God, I hate that woman.

That perfect moment to come clean ends.  Luke grips my hips and abruptly draws me closer.  He buries his face in my stomach while I run my hands through his soft hair, desperately thinking of a way to get out of this mess without resorting to murder.

I can’t come up with shit.

Luke is hanging out with Nate and his L.A. crew tonight—and guess who I’m stuck with?  Miss I’m-in-love-with-your-boyfriend Kat.  I don’t know what’s with this girl lately.  She’s been up our asses since Damon’s party, constantly calling, texting, and wanting to hang out.  She’s actually being the cool chick I once thought she was, even when Luke’s not around.  She’s up to something.  To make matters worse, the press have been dogging our every move.  I don’t even want to know what they’re writing about the three of us hanging out together.

We’re having a late night snack at a super trendy sushi restaurant/bar with the most uncomfortable chairs that my butt has ever had the misfortune to be acquainted with.  The sushi, however, is supposed to be delicious.  I haven’t touched my food; my stomach is tied in knots, worrying about Luke.  He hasn’t called or texted me all night, which is not like him.  I hope he’s not doing anything crazy.

I’m exhausted.  Kat and I are having a competition to see who can be the most passive-aggressive.  I think she’s winning, but only because I’m off my game.  This is torture—for her, too, I’m sure.  But she seems determined for us to be friends.  We give up trying to look for common ground and instead start talking about the other customers in the neon blue-lit restaurant.  If we don’t recognize them (lots of famous folks eat here), then we make up shit about them for our own amusement.

“I think you’re wrong,” Kat is saying, staring hard at the glamourous blonde woman sitting a few tables away from us.  “I don’t think she’s trying to hold one in.  It’s a botched face lift.  Believe me; I’ve seen plenty of those in my time.”

“But look at the way she’s squirming in her seat,” I argue.  Then I reconsider.  “Maybe she has a wedgie.”

“Or crabs,” Kat says with a shrug.

We look at each other, and then scoot our seats a few inches away from the glamourous blonde’s table, like that would matter.

Kat glances down at her phone lying on the table next to her drink.  She keeps checking it every couple of minutes.  It’s constantly ringing, beeping, and lighting up but she only looks to see who it is before ignoring it.  I fleetingly wonder if it’s Luke trying to get ahold of her—but then quickly decide that’s a paranoid path I’d rather not venture down.

She sighs and fidgets with her hair, glancing around the restaurant.  Finally, she settles down, leaning forward in her chair and directing her piercing blue eyes on me.  “So, Lucas seemed kind of tense when I talked to him earlier.  Is everything okay with him?”

“Um, yeah.”  I take a small sip of my soda.  “It’s just…I think his back is still hurting him, and he doesn’t want to admit it.”

Kat rolls her eyes.  “I wouldn’t be surprised.  He’s so stubborn.  Once, he broke a couple of ribs doing a stunt—and he never said a word until we had wrapped for the day!  I had to practically tie him to the bed to get him to rest.”

I try hard to keep the frown off my face.  I hate when she brings up past events that remind me of her longer history with him.  She does it in a sneaky way, too.  All big-eyed innocence.  Makes me want to hurl all over my delicious sushi.

I stab a crab roll with my chopstick.  “He can’t be hurt that bad,” I say shortly.  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to do the things he does in the bedroom.”

Kat flinches just a little.  I catch actual pain in her eyes before she looks away.  Her obviously genuine feelings for Luke threaten the hell out of me.

She quickly recovers herself, and turns back to me with a smirk-y little smile.  “Oh, yeah,” she purrs.  “I know exactly what you’re talking about.  We just had that one night together, but it was…amazing!  All four times.”

That little liar!  I fake a look of horror.  “I was talking about him lifting weights.  He keeps his barbells in our room.”

She’s too worldly to let my immaturity affect her.  She just rolls her eyes.  "I thought we agreed to be friends for Lucas' sake."

I frown, trying to remember if I did agree to that.  "Look, you wanna hang out with Luke, fine.  But do it on your own time.   We don't have to be a happy threesome."