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Authors: Marni Bates

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Chapter 34
Dominic
 
I
had dodged a bullet with that one.
That's what I told myself as I pretended to lounge in my chair. I was damn lucky she had shot me down before I had gotten around to asking her out. Which was a damn good thing because Holly probably would have laughed in my face.
She had straight up
told
me that she was using me.
Then again, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. She had been up front about wanting fame from the very beginning. Well, now she had it . . . and the girl who had sauntered out of the lounge didn't need me anymore. Especially if she aspired to rule her high school, something that would be more easily accomplished if she could twist the male contingent around her little finger. A rock star boyfriend would just be a liability with the potential to screw up her plans. Too great a risk. She probably had a whole strategy that included overthrowing her cousins as part of her popularity campaign.
Making me the idiot who hadn't seen it coming.
And the whole time she had been playing me like a cheap guitar, the public had been convinced I was trying to take advantage of some sweet, innocent teenager.
If only they knew the real story.
Not that they would ever get it from me. I fully intended to keep my mouth shut . . . at least until she returned to the suite. Then I planned on saying a few choice sentences.
Except she never showed.
It almost made sense. She had illegally entered my room before she knew me, which meant now that I was accustomed to having her around she was nowhere to be seen.
Typical Holly Disaster move.
Except she was no longer that girl . . . and I couldn't tell if it was my fault. I was the one who had convinced her to fake a highly publicized romance in the first place. Maybe I should've realized that for Holly and Cynthia Ridgley social status was worth any price.
The only thing I felt even relatively certain about was that eventually she had to get her stuff. Something Holly must have anticipated, since she tried to sneak past me first thing the next morning. Get in and get out was practically her motto, after all.
Except this time instead of puking in my bathroom she crept over to her suitcase, still wearing the same black dress from the night before, and began stuffing all her belongings into it. I didn't want to think about where she had spent the night or how quickly she had gotten another room. Especially if the reason she wanted this breakup was so that she could officially start seeing someone else. Maybe this whole time she was actually hiding another relationship.
After last night, a lot of things seemed possible. Especially when I watched her freeze with my Hawaiian-print shirt clutched in a tight fist before shoving it in with the rest of her stuff.
“I knew you would steal it eventually.”
My weak joke was the closest to civility I was going to get talking to my . . . fake ex on a few hours of sleep.
Holly gaped at me as if she hadn't considered the possibility that I might be prepared for her attempt at early morning treachery.
“Uh . . . you're awake.”
“Rather obvious.”
Her mouth snapped shut. “Right. Sorry. I'll be out of your way in just a minute.”
Making no attempt to be quiet she continued tossing stuff into her suitcase.
“Where were you last night?”
I realized I sounded like a jealous boyfriend only after the question was already floating there between us. Which was ridiculous because I wasn't jealous of anybody. The last thing I needed was a girlfriend primarily interested in my fame and my wallet.
The last thing I wanted was her.
“Don't worry about it.”
Not an answer, but I wasn't going to press her for the truth. If Holly didn't want to stay in my suite anymore that was her decision. It didn't concern me.
Holly nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So . . . today is the last full day of the cruise.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious. Again.”
She winced and I felt like a jerk.
“Right. I was just thinking that . . . I should be spending more time with my family. And you wanted to write songs, right? So I should just . . . leave.”
I pointed at her suitcase. “Looks like you've already done that.”
“Yeah.” She zipped up the bag. “Well, my . . .
our
birthday photos should clear up your PR nightmare. And as your publicist”—she walked over to the bed and held out her hand—“I'd like to congratulate you.”
I ignored it. “Have a nice life, Holly. Now get out.”
She blinked as if taken by surprise by my abrupt dismissal. Then she straightened her spine and nodded. “Take care, Dominic.”
Strange, but I had gotten used to hearing her call me Nick.
I think it was knowing that she had already slotted me into her past like a bad haircut that made me snap at her.
“It's over, Holly. You realize that, right? I'm not faking anything from this point on.”
“Now
you're
stating the obvious.” She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. “The only time you fake anything is when you have an audience. And since this won't land you on any
People
's Most Wonderful lists or whatever . . .” She trailed off. “Forget it. Speaking of which, I forgot to give this back to you last night. Sorry. I'm sure your mom will love it. Thanks for the . . . loan.”
I watched in silence as she carefully set the velvet box down on the smooth marble counter before she left without a backward glance. Again.
Good riddance.
Now I could concentrate on my music like I had planned.
I reached for my guitar and began strumming it while I mentally searched for anything that rhymed with “fame whore.”
Chapter 35
Holly
 
M
y grandpa let me stay in his room with
almost
no questions asked.
Then again, that's what I had expected when I knocked on his door on the brink of tears the night before. Although I didn't think he would use the peephole first and then anxiously scan the hallways as if he were being stalked.
“Those crazy women aren't with you, are they?”
I had never seen my grandpa look so panicked. “Deborah and Hannah?”
He instantly shushed me. “Don't say their names! They might
appear
.”
So maybe insanity runs in my family. That would explain a lot of things, actually. Although I wasn't feeling equipped to deal with anyone else's crazy when my grandpa dragged me inside.
“Grandpa, could you do me a huge favor?”
He nodded warily, probably so he wouldn't be locked into giving permission for skydiving with Nick or something. Not a chance.
“Could I spend the night in your room? And could you not ask any questions about it? Please?”
He nodded and then pulled me into his arms. “Of course, Holly.”
Which went a long way toward making me feel like I wasn't the world's biggest loser for getting my heart stomped on by a rock star.
But when he inevitably demanded if Nick had done anything to hurt me, I lied.
Just like I lied to Nick the next morning when I claimed to have forgotten to return the necklace. I spent most of the night twisting the pearl around my fingers as I tossed and turned in the bed. The necklace was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given to me, and returning it . . . leaving it in the suite while Nick scowled at me . . . it hurt even more than I had imagined.
I felt nauseous and for the first time I
hoped
I was seasick because then having my feet on dry land would solve everything. But if it was only the motion of the ocean messing with me then I shouldn't have wanted to vomit every time I glimpsed an ugly Hawaiian shirt. Or every time my iPod shuffled to a ReadySet song.
Docking in LA wasn't going to improve anything.
I tried to distract myself by toying with my new art supplies, but when I showed up alone for dinner, Allison and Claire exchanged a knowing smirk.
“Where's your
boyfriend,
Holly?” Claire rolled her eyes to make it clear she didn't think the term had ever really applied to
Dominic Wyatt
. Not if it was also associated with me.
“He's working.”
Probably.
Allison flipped her hair so that it cascaded beautifully over her shoulders. “Oh, by the way, Holly, we sent those photos like you suggested. They're a big hit.”
Great.
So I was officially the laughingstock of my high school. That's exactly what I needed to hear to lift my spirits. Maybe if I got
really
lucky the photos would hit the newsstands at the same time word of our breakup spread. That would cement my reputation as a loser quite nicely.
I didn't say a word in response . . . and it was an odd kind of relief. There was no reason for me to come up with any retorts. Why waste the energy? So I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the night. And since that left me feeling neither better nor worse, I decided to continue with it as a kind of social experiment. The only member of my family who noticed was my grandpa and he completely overreacted and called Jen as soon as we docked in LA.
As much as my grandpa loves me, there are a few things he refuses to discuss—like my menstrual cycle. The first time
that
happened he had panicked and pawned me off on Jen. Then again, I had wanted to discuss my “changing body” with
my grandpa
about as much as he wanted to hear about it. Still, this time he definitely should have given me some advance warning before he called for backup.
Although it was nice to come home to find Jen sitting on my doorstep, reading one of her romance novels.
I needed my best friend . . . even if she couldn't stop swooning over the ex-boyfriend I had technically never dated.
Jen took one look at me and closed her book. “Tell me everything!”
“Holly, I'm going to go meet . . . uh, Mitch for coffee. I'll be back later.” Grandpa made a hasty exit, pausing only to dump his suitcase in the hallway. His absence did make it a lot easier for me to tell Jen the
real
story about my fake relationship. At least I didn't have to worry about him “accidentally” overhearing anything.
“Well, you guys
looked
like a couple.” Jen pouted, clearly annoyed that she had believed our act like the rest of America.
“That was the point, Jen.”
“But you
really
looked like a couple. Have you actually seen the photos? You were always holding hands and—”
“Jen!” I interrupted. The last thing I wanted to hear described were our convincing public displays of affection. “It wasn't
real!
Don't you get it? Dominic Wyatt does
not
care about me, just about his stupid reputation!”
“But maybe—”
I cut her off before she could finish detailing some pathetic rationale that would explain away
everything
. “But nothing! I'm not doing this. I refuse to feel sorry for myself because it turns out that some shallow rock star is—brace yourself—a
shallow rock star!
”
“But, Holly—”
“We are
not
throwing a pity party. It happened. Now I'm over it.”
Jen eyed me warily. “So . . . what do you want to talk about instead?”
“Art school.”
“Uh . . . art school?”
“Yeah, I'm going to start looking into the admissions process. I'm not sure yet where I want to go as long as it's nearby so I can regularly check up on Grandpa. Plus in-state tuition is cheaper.”
I half expected Jen to urge me to slow down but instead she nodded. “All right. We've got a lot of research ahead of us.” Then she started laying out the potential benefits of attending a smaller, specialized school instead of a larger university. . . and I couldn't help wondering what Nick was doing now that he was back in the public's good graces.
Probably arranging dates with movie stars . . . and having the time of his freaking life.
Chapter 36
Dominic
 
“I
f you don't step away from the drums, I'm going to destroy them.”
Tim and Chris both looked ready to call security and have me forcibly removed from the recording studio.
“Drums are expensive, Tim,” I pointed out.
“It'll be worth it!”
Chris nodded in agreement. “For the past four days you've been acting like someone shoved a drumstick up your ass. It ends now.”
What total bullshit.
“You guys wanted me to be more focused on work. Well, I'm focused. Now let's take it from the second verse.”
Chris glared at me. “Not all of us just returned from a cruise where we spent most of our time frolicking in the goddamn surf like you did!”
“Right, it was just one long walk on the beach for me,” I scoffed. “Now let's take it from the top. Unless that's too much for you to handle.”
Tim broke the tense silence that followed, his voice deadly quiet. “Dom, you've been itching for a fight ever since you got back. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah? Then why haven't you once mentioned Holly?”
Crossing my arms, I pretended hearing her name didn't bother me in the least. “She hasn't come up.”
“So you don't care about those photos of her tackling Santa? It never even occurred to you to mention it?”
I shrugged. “Those photos don't concern us.”
“Of course they concern us! We're the ones who put her in the spotlight!”
“No,” I corrected. “
I'm
the one who did that. And you told me yesterday that we landed our sound track deal. Plus the press is already speculating that we broke up, so none of those photos will hurt the band.”
Chris nodded. “So you haven't called her then? To see how she's handling all of the media attention?”
“No.” I gritted my teeth. “I haven't.”
“Well, that's great.” Chris grinned. “Now I can ask her out without looking like a jerk. I'll just give her a call . . . you know, to apologize for your behavior, and see where it goes from there.”
My hands balled into fists and I almost took a swing at my best friend.
“Shut up, Chris,” Tim snapped. “Don't kick him while he's down.”
“He's
moping
. And I'm done with it.”
I glared at them both. “I'm not moping!”
“Sure, you are. Poor, sad drummer boy. Well, it's getting old, so either talk to the girl or get over yourself.”
“I've got nothing to say to Holly . . . and both of you should leave her alone!”
“Oh, yeah?” Chris challenged. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because she only cares about the fame!”
There was yet another long silence while the guys soaked this in.
“Really? That wasn't my impression when I Skyped with her.” Tim cocked his head thoughtfully. “What makes you so sure?”
“Besides the fact that she said she was only interested in using our fame? Nothing.”
“And is that so wrong?”
I glared at Tim. “What the hell are you talking about?
Of course it's wrong!
”
“We used her to repair your reputation. On that score you appear to be even.”
“Maybe that's how it started, but it's not—”
“We're leaving the studio,” Chris interrupted. “Instead of pouting you might want to try actually talking to the girl.”
“Funny, but I think I said plenty when I gave her . . . doesn't matter.”
Tim shrugged. “Some girls need things spelled out. Either way, this is
your
problem. I'm taking that two-week vacation you promised to visit my boyfriend. If you do anything stupid, I will
not
be doing community service hours to help you this time. So just . . . pull yourself together, Dom.”
I should have been psyched to have my vacation extended, especially because it wasn't like I had relaxed much on the cruise. But it wasn't like I would be able to do much relaxing in LA. Not with my every movement dogged by paparazzi wanting to know the status of my relationship with Holly. “No comment” wasn't exactly the answer they were looking for, but I didn't know how to change the story. It wasn't like I could just start hitting on some up-and-coming actress without breaking my promise to Holly that I would observe a relationship hiatus to make our sudden hookup seem more realistic. And just because I had been completely mistaken about her didn't mean I could break my word.
At least I wasn't the only one having a rough time. I had a feeling the photos of her tackling Santa in an elf outfit hadn't been part of her post-cruise plan. Which didn't make them any less hilarious. Jen's horrified expression alone was priceless.
I should have guessed that any embarrassing photo of Holly would have to include Jen. Even with an ocean between them the two girls were inseparable. So if Holly was willing to let me renege on the seeing other people part of the agreement, Jen would know. Not that I really wanted to date anyone right now. But neither Jen nor Holly needed to know that tidbit of information.
Holly hadn't bothered to remove Jen's Skype information from my laptop, which almost made it too easy to contact her. Except it became pretty clear that finding her number was going to be the only easy aspect of our conversation when Jen answered the Skype call with a deadly glare.
“Well, if it isn't America's Worst Fake Boyfriend.”
Crap.
“Uh, hi, Jen. How's it going?”
“
That's
what you have to say to me after you hurt
my best friend! SERIOUSLY?
”
Apparently, my biggest fan was no longer impressed.
“Uh . . . sorry?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” she snapped. “It better be a statement. Otherwise I will personally track you down and kick your a—”
“Statement!”
That only appeared to mollify her a little. “Do you have any idea what I've had to deal with, thanks to you?”
“Uh, no?”
“For the past four days, I've been researching art schools with Holly.”
Maybe trying to talk to a girl to figure out a girl wasn't such a good idea. Jen was only confusing me even more.
“You're blaming
me
for Holly's interest in college?”
“No. I blame you for the fact that she's been obsessing over those stupid college guides ever since she walked through the door.”
“And that's my fault because . . .”
Jen's scowl made me glad I wasn't having this particular conversation in person. For someone so bubbly she could turn downright terrifying when it came to protecting her friend.
“Because you're the jerk who dated her just to score some points with the press!”
“Holly agreed to it.”
“And did it ever occur to you that Holly has spent most of her life waiting for people to leave her? Because that's what she does. She befriends her grandpa's friends and goes to their funerals and wonders how long she has before he's the one in the casket!”
“But what has that got to do with—”
“Everything, you idiot! She agreed to this fake thingie with you because she thought that as long as she could see the end coming she'd be fine. But then you had to go all Prince Charming right before you
dumped her!
”
I stared at her in disbelief. “She dumped
me
. Get your facts straight.”
“Yeah, but that was only because you made her think that you liked her when
actually
it was a staged photo op—”
“I did like her.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “I mean romantically.”
“Me too.”
Her mouth dropped open and a big grin spread across her face. “Really? Oh, well . . . she didn't know that.”
I raked a hand through my hair, ignoring the way it stood up in tufts as I pinned Jen with a look of disgust. “What was I supposed to do? Hire a freaking skywriter?”
“Um, well . . . that might have worked, actually. As long as you explained that it wasn't another media stunt. I mean, it
is
kind of hard to tell what's real with you.”
“
I'm
not the one who started randomly dumping people.” I couldn't keep all of the bitterness out of my voice. “Holly managed to mess that up all on her own.”
Jen crossed her arms fiercely. “You want someone perfect? Then leave Holly alone. Because we both know that she's never going to fit into the Hollywood mold. She's fifteen pounds too heavy and she would have to change her—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. “No, she isn't! Holly doesn't have to change a damn thing!”
A pleased, self-satisfied grin spread across Jen's face, and I knew she had tossed out that crap as a kind of girl test.
Which apparently I had passed.
But I doubted the majority of the American public would agree with me. Considering all that I had witnessed just within her own family on the cruise, I should have realized that Holly couldn't open herself up for rejection. Not when she was convinced that she was every bit as worthless as her aunt and cousins made her feel.
Thanks to me, now total strangers were also saying that she wasn't good enough to date one of Hollywood's most popular drummers.
And I hadn't said anything directly to the contrary.
There was a dreamy cast to Jen's eyes when she announced, “I have a plan, if you're still interested. If you really mean it.”
I paused to consider her words. After the way Holly had shot me down, did I want to risk more rejection by following her best friend into some harebrained scheme?
Surprisingly . . . yes.
So I leaned forward and nodded.
“What do you have in mind?”
BOOK: Decked with Holly
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