She shrugs, and I wonder if she didn’t miss her calling as a CIA operative.
“You left your phone in her room?”
I smile. “Ingeniously wedged between sofa cushions.”
“We’ll leave when they do. As soon as you get to your room, call and convince her to bring your phone to your room. When you hang up with her, call me. I’ll be in the hallway between your rooms, and she’ll overhear my conversation. When we hang up, come out of your room and find her. Keep her faced towards you—that’s really important. Are you listening?”
Something about her superior way of giving instructions just makes me want to pay no attention. “Yeah. Ask her to bring my phone. Then call you. Then come into the hallway. Real complicated.”
Her jaw sets. “Reid, I swear to God, if you screw this up—”
“Reid Alexander!” A woman appears next to our table with a girl of twelve or thirteen, who’s staring at me with a dumbfounded expression.
“Uh, yes?”
“I’m Johanna and this is Christina Noel and may I say that we are such huge fans of yours!” She sticks out a clammy hand for me to shake, barking, “Christina Noel, shake his hand!” The girl complies, her hand trembling. “We won tickets to the premiere and this after-party shindig and traveled 1421 miles to be here!” The woman says, leaning closer to stage whisper, “This hotel costs a fortune!” Straightening, she adds, “Worth every penny—but it’s a lot of pennies!” She hoots with laughter while the girl turns bright red. “Anyhoo, we are just speechless with delight to be here!”
Speechless is not the word I would have chosen for her, though it appears fitting for her unfortunate kid.
“Oh, and look!” Staring at Brooke, she elbows the girl. “It’s Caroline.” I feel Brooke stiffen beside me at the condescending tone. “You were in that little cable series—what was it called—Life’s a Beach? We don’t let Christina Noel watch trashy stuff—no offense—so we haven’t seen it. But I’m sure it’s just peachy, for what it is.”
Oh shit. Cleanup at Table One in three, two…
“Do you have a camera?” I ask. “How about a photo of me and Christina, er, Noel.” I gesture to the girl to stand next to me, since we’re about the same height if I remain seated. She inches closer, visibly shaking. Her mother tears through her bag hunting for her camera, tossing tissues, celebrity maps, and bottles of lotion and hand sanitizer on the table, oblivious to the fact that Brooke is giving her a marked-for-death stare.
“Ah-ha!” She produces a cheap camera and turns it on, but instead of lining up the shot, she thrusts it into Brooke’s hands. “Be a dear and take our picture, will you?” She squeezes herself on the opposite side of me from her daughter, all but knocking Brooke off of her chair.
Brooke snaps one photo before giving me a piercing glare as though I had anything to do with the insulting speech. “Call me. Later.” Shoving the camera back into Johanna’s hands, she spins and strides towards MiShaun and Tadd, disaster somewhat averted.
“Well, gracious me, what bee got into her bonnet?” Johanna mutters.
Chapter 31
Brooke
My phone buzzes. When I answer, Reid says, “You’re on.”
Emma is in the corridor, about to turn the corner. My heart is thumping so hard I can barely hear her footsteps. I face the window, like it’s normal to be taking in the 3 a.m. courtyard view while talking on the phone, no big deal. Here we go.
“Graham’s supposed to call me soon, but I wanted to let you know the soon-to-be-news,” I say, listening for Emma’s footfalls. She hears Graham’s name and stops at the corner, just as I knew she would.
“So am I going to get the dirty details?” Reid says, determined to make this artificial conversation miserable, just because he can.
I concentrate on saying what I want her to hear. “You know how impatient I am. I’ll be happy when he’s taken care of this so we can be together openly. All we have are stolen moments when she’s not around.”
“Your cruelty knows no bounds, does it?” Reid says. I want to tell him to shut the hell up. He’s only on the line to know when to exit his room, the jackass.
“He doesn’t want to hurt her, but we’re meant to be.” I try to sound casual, but Reid’s comments are making my teeth grind. “My God, that night we spent—I mean, I’ve been with a lot of guys—” Reid laughs softly in my ear, the bastard “—but he was mind-blowingly hot. Better than anyone, ever.”
“If only it were true…” Reid says. I’m going to kill him.
“We should have given in to this thing between us years ago instead of putting so much effort into remaining friends only.”
“So he’s never, in four years, made a move?” Reid laughs. “Man, what that must have done to your colossal sexual ego.”
Son of a—ignore, ignore, ignore.
“I’m sure he’ll tell her soon. He knows I’m better for him—I’m even ready to be a step-mommy to Cara, and he knows Emma’s too young for that. Hey, he’s calling in—gotta go.”
I pretend to flash over. I imagine Emma around the corner, pressed to the wall, listening to every word I say. Time to step it up.
“Hey gorgeous.” My voice is a purr. “When are you going to tell her?” She’s probably leaning against that wall, stunned. I shove the guilt away. I’m right for him. “Graham, I know it seems brutal, but you’ve got to rip the bandage off. I want to be with you, out in the open.”