“I can live with that.”
There’s a pause, then Davey clears his throat. “So, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. Went out for a run, figured I’d check-in.”And tell you I’ve been shacking up with a girl that’s getting all my wires crossed.
“That all?” he asks in a dry tone, and I break out into a sardonic smile.
We couldn’t be more different, Davey and I, but we are the cliché of identical twins. We know each other in and out, and just like Davey senses I’m a big fat liar, I sense he already knows why I really called.
“I’m having a bit of a rough time,” I admit, resting an elbow on my knee and eyeing a couple swaying about in giggles.
“Any specific reason?”
This is it, time to come clean and tell him about Lauren. “Amara pulled a nasty trick. I ended up offering myself for an exclusive to cover Trista’s ass.” And once I say it out loud, I realize it’s true, and the boulder I’ve been carrying around since my meeting with Joanna is lifted off my shoulders. Because as much as things with Lauren are intense, nothing about her stresses me out. Quite to the contrary, and the thought of not having her around didn’t sit well with me.
The issue is and always has been this article. It’s prompting me to think about the past more than I usually allow myself to. And it’s casting a shadow over everything, eating at me from the inside.
"And this is the first I’m hearing about it because…?”
“Because…” I start, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut, pressing my thumb and forefinger onto my eyelids, trying to gain some control over the sudden flood of memories that are still so vividly sharp their jagged edges cut fresh wounds even eight years later.
“You’re scared they’ll dig deep enough to find out about Naomi.” The softening of Davey’s tone when he says it has me squeezing my eyes shut.
I call it a penchant for self-destruction, but the truth is I almost destroyed a lot of other people along the way. My mom, Trista, Maddie, Davey, Emily.
Which is why I need to be stronger than this stupid blimp in my life.
“Can you make sure that doesn’t happen?” I ask, knowing he can’t make any promises. But if anyone can cover my past up long enough for it to stay hidden from Garderobe, it’s Davey.
“I’ll call Effie to make sure the people who have inside info keep their mouths shut.” Davey pauses, and I can practically hear the wheels in his head turning. “Maybe also get Maddie involved.”
“Do you really think we need to go to those extremes?” Effie is a young New York socialite with a skill for making problems go away, and Maddie is a programmer by official title, but the unspoken truth is that she’s a hacker, one of the best out there. She’s pretty dodgy whenever the questions start, but there’s just so much hush-hush you can get away with in a tight-knit family like ours.
Two forces that, when combined, could make it so Naomi never existed. The blunt point of a memory shard pierces right through my heart. It’s always the same one, a flash of a vision that’s responsible for the death of that part of me that’s able to fall in love or dream of a future with a woman. A wound that never stays closed for long.
“Just until after the interview, Mikey.” His heavy sigh embodies all my exhaustion. “This isn’t just for you; her parents don’t need her name splashed all over the internet next to your photo captioned playboy of the decade.”
His words are like septal being poured over every still-raw spot inside me. “They know it isn’t true.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He hates himself for saying all these things to me. I know him like I know my own reflection, and it’s tearing him apart to be this brutally honest. But he has to. I know he does. “They deserve better. Naomi deserves better.” He pauses to let the words sink in. “Youdeserve better, Michael.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. I don’t deserve anything. I have too much karmic debt on my name to think the universe owes me some relief.
“Just let me do what needs to be done, what I’m good at,” he pleads. “No details, just give me the okay.”
“Okay.” I barely manage to whisper the word. “Thank you.”
“You can come back, you know,” he offers. “LA can wait.”
“No, I’m okay,” I hurry to assure, unwilling to leave Lauren so fast now that I know she isn’t the problem.
“Everything good with Lauren?” Davey asks, almost nonchalant. I blink a few times, not entirely sure how to answer the question I didn’t see coming, wondering if maybe hecanread my mind. “Trista called to tell me about your little welcome surprise in the loft.”Of course, she did. “And I didn’t see any hotel reservations made since you got to LA.”Because I’m a moron. “So, I figured you’re playing roomies, or is it house?”
“Well, I call her honey, and she calls me cupcake. Occasionally she cooks me dinner, but we sleep in separate rooms, and to answer your white-washed question, no, I haven’t had sex with her. So, I guess you could say we’re like an old married couple. ”
“I don’t know what couples you’ve met, but that sounds nothing like my marital life.”
I snort. “With two-year-old twins and midnight meetings at the office? I doubt you get dinnerorbooty.”