Just Like Me, Only Better (27 page)

When I got home forty minutes later, having sped the whole way, the guesthouse was empty, and the big house was dark. A piece of paper lay on the kitchen table.

Oh, crap! I picked up the phone to call him before I realized they’d all be asleep. Hank was an early-to-bed kind of guy, which meant he’d already been awoken once this evening, when Deborah called.

With Ben gone, I could have slept in the bed. Instead, I changed into pajamas and lay down on the couch.

 

 

“Hi, Hank. It’s me. Sorry about last night.”

I’d set my alarm for seven o’clock, so I could have a cup of coffee and sound reasonably alert when I called.

“Ben was really upset.” His voice was soft, his tone even.

“I know. Thanks for getting him.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s fine that you’re dating, but it shouldn’t get in the way of your time with our son.”

“It’s
fine
that I’m dating?”

“You’re free every other weekend. That should be enough time for you to do your partying.”

“I wasn’t partying!” I was having sex in a car.

“It’s tough on Ben, this business of switching houses. We need to do everything we can to make him feel secure. When you make him feel like you’re too busy to spend the evening with him—and then break your word on top of it—”

That did it.

“The only reason Ben is feeling
insecure
is because you walked out on our family! How dare you tell me when I can and can’t date? If you hadn’t fucked someone else while we were married, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!”

In my whole life, I don’t think I had ever used the word “fucked” in a literal sense. But if not now, when?

When Hank spoke again, his voice was cold. “Ben is still sleeping. Do you want me to bring him over when he wakes up?”

“Of course not. I’m happy to get him.”

 

 

My conversation with Deborah was slightly less cordial.

“I see you made it home.” She stood in her kitchen doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Deborah, I am so, so sorry. Things ran late, and I should have called. I left my cell phone in my car, which was really stupid. I didn’t even realize what time it was, and then when I saw it was after eleven—”

“You took advantage of my daughter. And of our friendship.”

“I’m so sorry.” I think I get points for not saying,
What friendship?

“Shavonne was
extremely
upset.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“You know, Veronica, when I first told Paul about your situation and we talked about renting you the guesthouse at a below-market rate, he was concerned. He said, do we want to expose our own children to the effects of divorce? But in the end we decided that offering you the house was the Christian thing to do.”

Silent, I stared, my hands trembling.

“But now you’re running around like a teenager. Bringing one man home one night, staying out late with a different man another night.”

“I never brought a man home,” I said. “He was just giving me a ride.”

“It makes me wonder, you know, if we made the right decision offering you this house.”

The threat of homelessness renewed my humility. “I’m really very sorry, Deborah. I don’t know what else to say.”

She licked her lips. “You still owe Shavonne her money. You were gone for seven hours.”

I was only gone for six, but I paid for the extra hour without complaint.

 

 

My cell phone rang in the early afternoon, after Ben and I had shared a mostly silent lunch of peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I’d tried,
I’m sorry
. I’d tried,
I love you more than anything
. I’d asked,
Did you have fun with Daddy?
and
What do you want to do today?
All with no luck.

It was Jay.

“I just got a call from Haley’s publicist.”

“Okay.”

“There are some pictures of Haley and Brady. Taken last night. They’re already online.”

An image flashed through my mind: me straddling Brady in the front seat of his car. My entire body grew cold.

Jay said, “The pictures show Haley and Brady outside the Bar DeLux . . .”

Thank God!!!

“. . . which kind of surprised me since Haley was at her house last night. With me.”

“How cozy for you both.”

“Excuse me?”

“Brady asked me out. I said yes. If the press thought I was someone else, that’s their problem.”

“You don’t go to the Bar DeLux unless you want your picture taken.”

“Where were we supposed to go? Chili’s?”

“You can’t just run around pretending to be Haley whenever you feel like it!”

“I wasn’t pretending to be anybody! Brady likes me for myself. Is that so hard to believe?”

“From Brady? Yes.”

 

 

Only a couple of obscure gossip sites ran the pictures of Brady and me outside Bar DeLux. I should have been relieved; instead I felt disappointed. There were plenty of pictures of Brady and Haley—at restaurants, at parties, at the beach. I wanted more shots of Brady and me, even if we were the only ones who knew my true identity.

The day would have been a complete loss if not for the final phone call, which came in just as I was putting a frozen pizza into the toaster oven.

“I’m on my way to the airport,” Brady said, his voice muffled by traffic sounds. “But I needed to hear your voice before I left.”

I slipped into the bedroom so Brady wouldn’t hear Ben’s cartoon.

“I had a great time last night,” Brady said.

“Me, too.” I sat on the bed and pulled a pillow onto my lap. “Jay called.”

“Yeah, I talked to him. Such a tool.”

I laughed. Brady could see right through Jay. That’s why Jay didn’t like him.

“And I talked to my publicist,” Brady said. “Told her our situation. Well, not that you’ve been working for Jay—just that I met a girl who looks a lot like Haley and that people might get the wrong idea. She said we should wait till I get back to make any kind of comment to the press.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we could even go away for a while. You know, head down to Mexico or maybe up to Santa Barbara.”

My heart raced—I mean, even more than it already was. “I’d love that!”

Of course, we’d have to plan it for a weekend when I didn’t have Ben—and I’d have to tell Brady I had a son. I should never have let things get this far without him knowing. As soon as there was a break in the conversation, I’d tell him. Would it change his feelings for me?

He sighed. “I miss you already.”

“I miss you, too.”

“And I’m not sure that my phone gets international service. So if you don’t hear from me, don’t think it means anything.”

“Okay.” I swallowed hard.

Brady said, “Oh! I also told my publicist what we talked about—you know, that you could be Haley’s registered double for parties and stuff. She can totally hook you up with the right people. When I get back, I’ll get the two of you together.”

“Great!”

“Don’t mention it to Jay, though. You know what he’s like.”

“A tool?”

He laughed. “Major.”

 

 

 

O
n Monday morning, the news was everywhere at Las Palmas Elementary: Mrs. Largent, first-grade teacher and mother of two preteens, was pregnant.

Before the bell rang, I stopped by her classroom to offer my congratulations. “You must be excited.”

If I’d followed my life plan, I would have had two kids right now. Would I ever have another child?

Mrs. Largent yawned. Black circles sat underneath her weary eyes. “I will be. When the shock wears off and I start to feel better. But it’s hard enough to balance work and kids as it is. My husband and I talked, and we agreed that I should take a few years off.”

I missed the significance.

“So you might want to talk to Dr. Fisk,” she said. “About the job.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

How ironic: there was finally an opening at Las Palmas, and I no longer wanted it.

Ken’s car was parked on the same side of the street as mine, half a house away.

“Morning, Veronica!”

“Hey, Ken.”

He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Or should I call you Haley?” He chuckled: a real laugh, not his usual
Ha!

I forced a smile. “Have you seen her lately?”

He shook his head. “Not since a week ago Sunday. But we talk every night. And Pamela’s taking the boys this weekend. I was going to go camping, but I’d rather see Haley.” He shook his head in amazement. “Never thought you’d hear me say that, did you? Well!” He bounced up and down on his feet. “Enjoy your day! It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

It was damp and gray with a heavy fog that would take hours to burn off.

“It’s a morning,” I said.

When I got home, there was a message waiting from Dr. Fisk: “Good morning, Veronica. I don’t know if you’ve heard Mrs. Largent’s happy news, but we have an opening for a first-grade teacher. I can’t promise you anything, but I urge you to apply for the position.”

I erased the message.

 

 

Jay called a few hours later, just as I was scrolling through some celebrity gossip sites, disappointed that there were no new pictures of Brady and me.

“Hi, Jay. Is this about the pictures? Because I looked online, and they’re not that big a deal.”

Jay hadn’t hired me to be Haley for almost two weeks. Was he phasing me out, or would he fire me outright? Did it matter? The celebrity double job sounded like more fun, anyway.

“There’s a video,” he said.

“Really?” I clicked back to Google and did a quick video search on “Haley Rush Brady Ellis” and “Haley Bar DeLux.” Nothing.

“What’s the URL?” I asked.

“It hasn’t been posted yet.”

“Oh. Well, I know you’re annoyed that I went out with Brady without telling you, but none of the gossip magazines have even picked up the photos, so I doubt—”

“You’re having sex.”

When I didn’t say anything, he added, “In a car.”

I said, “I didn’t think . . . I didn’t know . . .”

He exploded. “Do you understand what a sex tape will do to Haley’s career? Little girls idolize her! If this comes out, we can say good-bye to all of the licensing deals—the lunch boxes and hair accessories and Halloween costumes.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“How could you be so fucking stupid?”

“Don’t swear at me!”

“Don’t swear at you? Why? Because you’re so delicate? I just got done looking at a clip of you, buck naked, riding on top of that, that . . .” His voice broke.

My stomach clenched. “How much could you see of me?”

“Enough,” he said. “I saw enough.”

I felt nauseous. “Who showed it to you?”

“The asshole who took it sent it to Haley’s publicist—who is also an asshole, and who just spent twenty minutes telling me I was a fucking moron for letting this happen. He said he was giving Haley first dibs on buying it. For a million bucks. She said no.”

“Haley knows about it?”

“Not exactly. No. But she doesn’t have a million bucks to spare. So now he’s off to sell it to the highest bidder. It’ll hit the Internet in a day or two.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought you were different from Haley.”

“I am different!”

“True. At least she can sing.”

 

 

There was only one person I wanted to talk to—who I
needed
to talk to.

“Brady? It’s me. Veronica. I don’t know if you can even retrieve your messages from Australia, but I had to let you know what’s going on. There’s this tape. Of us. When we were in . . . the car. Jay’s really upset—you know, about what it could do to Haley’s career. And yours, too, of course. He didn’t actually say that, but I’m sure he’s concerned. I just thought you should know.”

 

 

He called back within the hour.

“Veronica?”

“Brady! You got my message?”

“Yeah, my messages came through somehow, all in a bunch. One of the cameramen let me borrow his phone to call you back. Anyway . . . wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“I feel really bad that I put you in this position.”

“Actually, I liked being in that position.” I was so, so happy that he had called me back.

It was quiet for a moment, and then he laughed. “You are so awesome.”

Suddenly, I was hardly even upset anymore. “Jay was pissed.”

“Jay’s an asshole.”

“Haley doesn’t even know yet. I feel bad for her—especially since it’s not her fault.”

“Don’t.” He sighed. “Haley’s spent the last year doing everything she can to sink her career. I think she just wants out. Seriously. So maybe this will give her the excuse she needed.”

“But she might still have feelings for you,” I said.

“She doesn’t. Trust me. What she really needs is a regular guy.”

Once again, I envisioned Haley in Ken’s little ranch house, standing over the GE range, cooking macaroni and cheese for the boys.

He said, “What really bugs me is that now people are going to think Haley and I are back together. I can’t exactly say, like, this is my new girl and me on our first date. So, we’re just going to have to lay low a little longer.”

Brady called me his girl!
His girl!

But he was right. If we took our romance public too soon, everyone would know it was me in that tape. I couldn’t do that to Ben. I couldn’t do it to myself, either. I’d never live down the embarrassment.