“Certainly not any of those things.”
“No? Why?”
“Asher, I can look that stuff up online.” She opens her eyes and grins up at me. “In fact, I have. I already know all of that. No, I want to know what it was like to be you growing up. What was schooling on set like? What did you do on the weekends? Who was your best friend?”
I’m puzzled at her request. And now that I think about it, she never told me anything about her childhood. Only her present life.
But it’s my turn to talk about me, and no one ever asks me these kinds of questions. Not anymore, at least. Maybe back when I was a little kid these were the kinds of questions they asked. But I never told the truth. I always lied.
“My childhood sucked,” I finally say.
Her eyes fly open immediately. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t have one. It was non-stop work. I’ve been working since I was five years old. I never had a best friend, or played on the baseball team, or had to stay up late to finish homework. It was all about acting. And don’t get me wrong, my career doesn’t span twenty-seven years because I couldn’t make the sacrifices. Acting is the only thing I know. It’s the only thing I do.”
“You guys have a production company though, right?”
“Oh, yeah, we have our hand in pretty much every aspect of the showbusiness pot. But I’m an actor first. I do love my work, but all the sacrifices are adding up. The lack of privacy, the grueling schedules, the pressure, the politics—they all add up to an extraordinary life. And to be honest, Grace, I’d like a little bit more reality in my life.”
“Huh,” she says softly. “That’s funny. I’m always on the lookout for a little more fantasy, myself.”
I wait to see if she’ll expound, but she doesn’t. Just lies there, her head in my lap as I talk about everything and nothing all at the same time.
I like her, I realize once the darkness of night is breaking for the light of day. So I scoop her up and take her to her bed. I stare at her for a few moments after I place her on top of the sheets.
She’s different, I realize. She’s real.
I’m not sure what makes me think that or why it matters, but she’s real in a way I haven’t seen in a while. She’s got an innocence to her, but at the same time, she seems hardened by something. I want her. I wanted the last sub too. But I never liked the last sub. She was just a body to use, a mind to manipulate.
But Grace…
I turn on my heel and walk out of her bungalow before I ask myself any more questions. She has one more day here at the resort and then we both have to go back to our normal lives.
It’s best not to think too hard about her. I’ll probably never call her again after I fuck her wild tomorrow.
Chapter Fourteen
#PleasePullMyHair
I WAKE to Bebe and Steve in the room. Bebe is right next to me, and she’s not hiding her lackluster feelings for her boyfriend, because she’s arguing with him in a nasty tone. “What’s going on?” I ask as I roll over.
“I’m so sorry, Grace!” she exclaims. “I feel terrible for leaving you here all day yesterday and then brain case over there forgot to put gas in the boat he wanted to rent after parasailing, and we got stranded on that stupid island. We had to beg a local family to take us in. Did you know there’s like, no real services over there?”
I didn’t, but I’m thinking her question is rhetorical, so I don’t even bother answering.
“And now he”—she snarls that last word out as she points to poor Steve standing sheepishly over by the door—“is mad because I refuse to go snorkeling with him today.” She looks down at me and smiles her big Bebe smile. “I’m not leaving you again. It’s bullshit. And I’d be so pissed at you if you did this to me, so I don’t blame you one bit if you hate my guts.”
I’m thinking about Vaughn and all that happened yesterday when Bebe pops in with another question. “So who did you see that you wanted me to play the guessing game with you?”
“Um—” And in that moment I know I’m going to lie to her. Vaughn never said I had to keep quiet, but if I’m going to sign a NDA, it would be a huge girlfriend mistake to tell her half the story and not the rest. She’d never forgive me. So I lie. “Oh, I think I saw like, some guy from back home. You know that one asshole who makes our drinks at the Starbucks in LoDo?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s such a dick. What’d you say to him?”
She’s smiling a bit. Steve is forgotten and she’s all interested in my gossip.