Exposing Alix (16 page)

“Mama!” the boy pleaded, “you’re in the way!”

The woman turned to look behind her just as a young man
wearing baggy jeans and a sleek black polo shirt appeared at her back. “Hector,
I thought I told you to change your jeans before supper,” she said.

“Shhh!” Hector said dramatically, hands on either side of
the woman’s shoulders. He peeked around the edge at the little boy. “I’m
hiding.”

Emilio stuck out his tongue. “I can see you,
estúpido
.”

“Emilio!” The woman stared in horror. “Get into the house.
If I hear that word again, you’ll be straight to bed, no supper.” She walked
forward, extending her hand toward Alix. “I’m so sorry about that. I’m Rosalia,
and this is my brother Hector. Thank you so much for coming. My husband,
Antonio, just ran out for another six pack. He’ll be back soon.”

She examined Alix from shoes to hair, her gaze shrewd and
unyielding. Alix felt a sudden desire to run back to the car and hide in the
nonexistent backseat. She had never liked being on display, and Rosalia’s
bottomless eyes told her that at this gathering, Alix would not be permitted to
fade into the background.

She forced her mouth to open and form words. “I’m Daisy.
Daisy Zahn. Thanks for having me.” Alix shook Rosalia’s hand and tried not to
let her shoulders bend under the intense regard.

As she’d told Ryker, Alix had been using her middle name
ever since she’d moved from Gunther’s house to her own apartment. At the time,
she’d felt a need to separate herself from her past and declare to herself and
to the world that she was no longer “Daisy.” Daisy was a girl who didn’t
control her own destiny. Daisy was a girl things happened to, instead of the
other way around. Maybe Ryker had felt the same way when he left home. What
better way to assert control over your life than to change your name?

Years later, when she left LA and bought her house in
Oregon, she struggled over what to call herself. Though she no longer felt like
Daisy, she had come to despise the assumptions and knowing smiles that
accompanied the name Alix Z. She’d reverted to Daisy but always wondered if she’d
done the right thing. Was it more important to have anonymity or to claim her
work?

Even today, she could recall the words Ryker had spoken
the first time they met:
“Frankly, I would have been more impressed if you
could have just owned up to the whole sex thing.”
Easy for him to say. He
didn’t have to deal with the smarmy looks, the conclusions everyone was so
quick to reach.

Besides, a part of her still
was
Daisy. Her mother
hadn’t given her much, but at least she’d given her a name. Daisy Alexandra
Zahn. A full name. A name that she wasn’t going to give away, even if she
wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

At any rate, the moment she shook Rosa’s hand she had
decided that the last person she wanted to be that night was Alix Z. Her heart
had nearly broken when Ryker told her how excluded and isolated he felt from
his family. Though his face had remained stony and unemotional, she could see
something dark and painful sparking in his eyes. He had enough problems with
these people. He didn’t need to add to them by bringing an erotic filmmaker to
supper.

Ryker started with shock when he heard her name but
quickly covered his surprise with a cough. The pressure on her arm increased,
and she had the feeling he would be asking questions later.

Although she didn’t appear much older than her early
twenties, Rosalia had the suspicious stare of a powerful family matriarch.
“Daisy? That’s unusual.” Her gaze swept Alix from head to toe. “Funny, my
sister Maria has the same outfit.”

At that moment, another child toddled out the front door
of the house, followed by another young woman. This child looked around a year
old. She had pigtails standing straight out from the top of her head and a
toothy grin. Her white dress was covered with multicolored stains, orange and
green around the collar and brown at the hem.

“Ry! Ry!” she called as she toddled toward the stairs.

The first genuine smile Alix had seen in a long time broke
across Ryker’s face. “Fifi!” He scooped up the tiny creature and threw her at
least three feet in the air. She squealed with delight. Rosalia frowned and
held up a hand as if to stop him, but the other woman cut her off before she
could speak.

“Rosa, they’re fine.” The voice was weary, quiet. Despite
her youth, deep lines had been etched around her mouth and eyes.

Rosalia frowned and started to respond but then visibly
restrained herself. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Isn’t that the same
skirt that you’ve got, Maria?”

Maria subjected Alix to a tired scrutiny before she spoke
again. “No. My skirt is more purple than that.”

Alix gave a grateful smile to the woman who must have been
responsible for the closet full of clothes and playpen at Ryker’s house. “I
guess we’ve got similar taste, then,” she said. “I’m Daisy.”

“Maria.” She gestured toward Ryker, who was still engaging
in acrobatics with the tiny girl. “That messy creature is my daughter Felicity.
We’re the black sheep of the family.”

Rosalia shot Maria an annoyed look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“She’s right, Maria,” Ryker called without looking at
them. “I’m the black sheep.”

More people emerged from the house. Another child, a young
man, and an older one. Rosalia took over the introductions. Alix met Ryker’s
stepfather, Emilio, and his brother Eduardo. Ryker kept Felicity tightly in his
arms as he watched the scene and waved to his stepbrothers but made little move
to join Alix or acknowledge his stepfather.

Alix tried to squash a growing panic at the sea of faces
that appeared ready to devour her. Deliberately, she imagined she was at one of
Gunther’s press parties. She planted a fake smile on her face and tried her
best to be polite but not particularly interesting. Hector and Eduardo greeted
her with boisterous smiles and then shot Ryker disbelieving looks, as if they couldn’t
imagine why he would waste his time with someone so ordinary. Emilio treated
her with a grave respect. He was a short, slight man with wavy white hair cut
short and mobile features that exposed every emotion. When he looked at Ryker,
he didn’t try to hide his impatience.

“Ricardo, are you so busy you cannot even say hello?”

Ryker acknowledged him with a short nod and then turned
back to the children. Two little boys swarmed around his legs as Felicity
crawled on his shoulders.

Emilio snorted. “Pleasant as always.”

Rosalia waved her hand. “Ignore him, Papa. It is just his
way.”

“His way of being rude, perhaps.”

Alix shifted from one foot to the other, wishing she were
anywhere else.

Rosalia gave her father a warning look. She had a
commanding presence that no one seemed able to ignore. “Daisy, tell us, what
sort of work do you do?”

“I’m a photographer,” she said. “I actually live in
Oregon. I’m just visiting LA.”

“Oregon? How did you and Ricardo meet, then?” Emilio asked

Ryker appeared at her elbow, holding a giggling Felicity
upside down on his chest. “
Daisy
is friends with Gunther Hartcourt.”

Emilio’s thick white eyebrows drew together. “So you’re in
the movie business as well?”

“And she looked so decent, didn’t she?” Ryker mocked.

“Papa, leave her be. We don’t want to scare the poor
thing.” Maria extended her hand toward Alix. “Why don’t you come in the house
with me and Rosalia. You can help us finish the tamales. Ryker, you’ll watch
Felicity, won’t you?”

Ryker flashed a tight smile. “She’s safe with me.”

Maria nodded and patted his arm. “I never doubted that for
a minute.”

Ryker watched Alix walk up to the
house with Maria and Rosalia, still stunned by the change she had somehow
wrought in herself. It was as if she was some kind of social chameleon. At the
beach, when they first met, she’d been snappy and belligerent. When she entered
the Bolvana studio, she turned into a stubborn, driven artist. At Tiger Lily’s,
she became a seductress, a woman used to wrapping men around her little finger.
And now? Now he didn’t know what he was looking at. Some kind of old-fashioned,
demure, conservative foil; a person who didn’t make waves but helped smooth
them out.

It was uncanny. She changed her name, brushed her hair,
and took off her glasses, and it was like he was looking at a different person.

“She seems lovely.” Emilio grunted as Alix disappeared
into the house. “How long have you two been dating?”

Ryker turned to Emilio. “Is it too much to ask for a
little privacy?” he said evenly.

“You brought her. It didn’t seem an unusual question to
ask.”

“Actually, she just came to town,” Ryker replied. “We’ve
only known each other for a couple of weeks.”

Emilio pursed his lips disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t lead
her on that way.”

“Why would you assume I’m leading her on?” Ryker tried to
keep a tight rein on his temper, but he could already feel himself losing
control.

“You brought her to meet your family. That’s not something
people usually do with someone they’ve just met.”

“Perhaps I’ve fallen for her,” Ryker said. “Perhaps it was
love at first sight.”

“Right. Do you think I’m blind?” Emilio waved toward the
house. “She seems like a very nice girl, but she’s hardly your type.”

“Just what is my type? Bimbos? Prostitutes?”

Emilio threw up his hands. “Of course not. I never said
that. Why must you take everything I say and turn it around?”

“Why must you always believe the worst about me?” Ryker
countered. “Al…er, Daisy, is a gorgeous woman. She’s also smart, tough, and
makes me laugh. Just because she isn’t six feet tall and doesn’t think LA is
the center of the universe doesn’t make her any less of an incredible woman.
Why shouldn’t I fall for someone like her?”

“Why indeed?” Emilio stared at Ryker, black eyes snapping.
Ryker had cursed those eyes every time Emilio guessed when he’d stolen a
cigarette, nipped a drink off the top of a bottle of scotch, or stayed out past
his curfew. Sometimes he thought those damn black eyes had the ability to see
into his very soul. “Why indeed?”

“Oh Lord. It’s a little early in the night to start with
the amateur psychology, isn’t it?”

“I just think it’s interesting, the way you chase after
those women, one after another, a different one every night. It’s as if you’re
determined to date women you know can’t possibly make you happy so you can
reject them as soon as they disappoint.”

“And you know what would make me happy?” Ryker struggled
to keep his temper in check.

“I know what doesn’t make you happy—brainless women
who think the sun rises and sets on their shoulders. If your mother could see
you—”

“Can we drop it, please?” Ryker forced the words between
his teeth. “I’d like to prove to Rosalia that I can make it through one of
these meals without taking a swing at you.”

Emilio gave a short laugh. “You wouldn’t dare. I’d lay you
flat.”

Ryker forced his shoulders to relax. “I’d like to see you
try.”

“I can’t. I promised your sister no more fistfights in her
front yard.”

A reluctant smile teased the edges of Ryker’s mouth. “Is
that so? You and I haven’t brawled since I was sixteen. Have there been other
fights I don’t know about?”

Emilio nodded. “At least one a week.”

“Must be that midlife crisis finally catching up with
you.”

Emilio chuckled. They shared a rare moment of peace.

“How’s the movie?” Emilio asked.

Ryker shrugged. “We’ve run into a few speed bumps.”

“You’ll get it in shape. You’ve never been one to let a
little speed bump get in your way. That was the first thing your mama told you
about me. He’s a good kid, she said, but stubborn as a mule.”

Ryker grunted. “Is that right?”

“Told me you were going to win an Oscar the day you got
your first part. Believed it too. Right up until the day she died, she wanted
to see you holding that little statue.” Emilio shook his head. “I guess she
thought maybe then you’d stop fighting so hard.”

Ryker ran his hands through his hair and turned away. He
exhaled slowly. It was going to be a long night.

#

Alix twisted the stem of her wineglass as she looked out
the kitchen window to Rosalia’s tiny backyard. Rosalia’s house was filled with
the same warm, vibrant colors as the quilt she’d made for Ryker. Tall glass
candleholders decorated with pictures of religious figures filled the fireplace
mantel and stood in clusters on end tables and on a wide wooden sideboard. A
large, framed picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe looked down serenely over a
sofa covered with a bright-red-and-yellow-striped throw.

Outside, Rosalia’s husband Tony flipped chicken and steak
on a shiny silver grill and chatted with Emilio. Ryker’s younger brothers,
Eduardo and Hector, laughed and joked with each other. Ryker stood a few feet
apart from the group. He nursed a beer as he stared into space, absently
raising it to his lips and then bringing it back down without even taking a
sip.

The tension between him and the other men was palpable.
The younger set seemed willing to include him in their conversation; he gave
them a few halfhearted smiles but never really joined in their banter. Tony and
Emilio made no such effort. They all but turned their backs on him, and Ryker
seemed to pay them even less attention.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Maria said quietly.

Alix spun on the tall wooden bar stool on which she’d been
perched. She’d almost forgotten Maria was there. “What do you mean?”

Rosalia buzzed back and forth in the background, setting the
dining room table and tidying up the kitchen. She seemed to enjoy her role as
hostess, never sitting down for more than a minute at a time before finding something
else to occupy her. Without a trace of modesty, she had put Maria and Alix to
work, first as part of her tamale assembly line and then chopping tomato,
onion, and cilantro for fresh salsa.