newshounds out there, a man who’d do anything to get a story. He’d done incredible real award-winning journalism stories for numerous magazines about the shadier side of the movie business, but after he’d been caught plagiarizing he’d turned his talents to digging up dirt on celebrities.
“He must’ve had a fake ID,” Bobbi went on. “Fake credentials, too.”
“You guys know he’s a freaking master of disguise.” Riley raked his fingers through his hair. He was still mad at himself for tipping his hand. Now Durst would dig even deeper into his relationship with Kat.
Bobbi apologized repeatedly. It took Riley a while to calm down before he was able to greet the next reporter with a smile.
By the end of the junket, his nerves were shot. Answering the same few questions over and over again was stultifying and exhausting, but having his private life put under a microscope was the one thing he absolutely detested.
When he returned to the hotel late that afternoon, he discovered his mother had left only an hour earlier with Kat. He regretted not seeing them off, but considering his mood, it was for the best. In the empty suite, he downed a minibottle of Scotch from the bar in one gulp, then tore into a roasted-veggies-and-goat-cheese sandwich his mom had left for him in the fridge. He could count on his mom to know what he needed after a hard day.
“Bobbi tells me you had a run-in with Charlie Durst,” Sam said when she arrived in his room an hour later. She looked as severe and fearsome as a tiny, fashionable undertaker in her black designer suit.
“It’s not Bobbi’s fault. I kind of went off on her already.” He rubbed his forehead. “How was your day with Juliette?”
“Uneventful in comparison. No tantrums or outbursts, at least.” Juliette had refused to do interviews with any of her costars. She’d wanted the spotlight on her alone. “I should’ve stayed with you.”
“I think I handled everything okay up until Durst. He’s going to be an issue, Sam.”
“He’s been known to bullshit to make people show their hands. Whatever he has may be made up.”
Riley shook his head. “No. He knew Kat’s name. He’s on to something, and you can believe he’ll shake that tree until it falls out.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and swore. “Christ, I’m beat. Any chance I can skip tonight’s party?”
“Harlan will be there, and so will Juliette. I hear some big producers and directors are coming, too.” She named them, and Riley nodded. He’d met most of them, but it was always good to reintroduce himself.
“Guess I’d better go.” Work came first, always. And yet he mentally counted the days to the end of the week, when he’d go back to Modesto, where Kat was surrounded by his family.
A slight pang went through him. No, he didn’t miss her. And he didn’t want to see her—he simply wasn’t sure how she would react to his family, or how they’d react to her. Mom would be good to her, but his siblings... Well, they were a handful.
Now that he had time to think about it, things could go very wrong.
He wasn’t sure who to feel sorrier for.
“SOMETHING WRONG WITH your sole?”
Kat looked up from the fish filet in lemon sauce Riley’s sister Kaylee had prepared for her. She’d been trying to choke it down without gagging for the past half hour. “It’s fine. Delicious.”
Riley’s “baby” sister—a whole four years older than Kat’s twenty-six years—beamed, showing long, white teeth against her tanned face. She was a wiry woman, pretty, but tautly held, as if her skin might snap if she smiled too hard. “I got the recipe from a woman in my drumming circle,” she said, and flipped her sun-streaked hair. “It goes against my vegan beliefs, but I know the baby shouldn’t go without meat. Still—” her shoulders locked into a shrug “—fish are the only animals I’m willing to kill.”
So she’d been saying all week. Every piece of food Kat had put in her mouth had gone down with Riley’s sister pushing her own strict diet of nuts and seeds and organic this and that. She’d been using that supercilious tone with Kat from the moment they met, peppering her with questions about her diet and exercise regime, and what she was doing for the baby’s “spiritual welfare.”
Trying not to strangle you had been Kat’s first thought. She put another mouthful of the slimy, too-lemony fish into her mouth, holding her breath as she chewed and swallowed. She normally liked fish, but the pregnancy had turned her off the texture and flavor. She hadn’t said anything, though. How could she? She was living off Riley’s family. She wasn’t going to turn away food that Kaylee the vegan had made especially for her. No, she’d eat it, feel wretched for a while, then go back to the guesthouse and make herself a peanut-butter sandwich.
“Still no sign of Freddie?” Riley’s second sister, Mia, asked casually. Unlike Kaylee, the taciturn Mia never said much, having little to no opinion on her sister’s food or, well, anything. She was tall and fit, her tan complexion and the light sprinkling of freckles across her strong bone structure trophies of her career as a golfing instructor and semipro player. Despite Riley’s enormous house, she lived on her own and apparently only came around occasionally for dinner. Her words seemed to be as carefully measured and economical as her golf game.
Winnie shook her head. “He’s still on deadline.” She gave Kat an apologetic look. “He goes into the zone when he’s under pressure. He’ll come over soon, I’m sure.”
Riley’s brother, Freddie, was a comic-book artist who lived in his own apartment closer to the downtown area and only visited now and then to do laundry, eat or help his mother with a chore that required heavy lifting. Some of his framed sketches decorated the house. One of Kat’s favorites was a caricature drawing of the four Jacobsen siblings. Riley posed like an Oscar statue, a golf ball struck by Mia bouncing off his head. Kaylee, drawn with pigtails, hula-hooped with a menagerie of big-eyed cartoon animals frolicking around her, and Freddie, bearded and paunchy, sat sketching them all.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him.” She put her fork down and patted her belly. “Wow, I’m stuffed. Thanks so much for dinner, Kaylee.”
“It was nothing.” Her tone suggested otherwise. She glanced down at Kat’s half-full plate. “You should take that with you, in case you need a midnight snack.”
“Thanks, I will.” She’d throw it all out as soon as she got back to her room. She couldn’t even look at the stuff without feeling queasy.
She felt Mia’s eyes on her as she scraped her leftovers into a Tupperware container. Kat understood that her shortness didn’t stem from hostility, but rather thoughtfulness. She could tell Mia hadn’t entirely made up her mind about her. Kaylee, meanwhile, didn’t seem to have an internal filter, and said whatever she thought, no matter how rude or critical it came across. She wondered what Freddie was like, and how Riley, as the eldest, interacted with the three of them.
They’re family now, she reminded herself with a sigh. Sweetpea was certainly going to have some interesting relatives.
“Do you have plans for tomorrow?” Winnie asked. “I’m free to drive you anywhere you need to go.”
“Thanks,
