Miss Congeniality (31 page)

“Ma’am, I am only going to tell you one more time, you need to get back into the car. You are about to make the situation worse if you don’t turn around.” She had widened her stance and put her hands on her hips, ready to argue her point.

“Get back in the car,” Lance said forcefully, his tone booking no argument. She glared at the officer for another minute before getting back in the car. She sat, one leg resting over the other and arms crossed over her chest. Lance was able to finish up with the officer, who gave him a warning for the taillight and sent him on his way. Brea was quiet when he got in the car, which was perfectly fine with him. He didn’t trust himself to speak with her; he was pissed about what she did in her misguided attempt at assistance.

“What is Henry doing here?” Lance wondered when they pulled up to her house fifteen minutes later.

“I called him,” she stated as though it was a common occurrence.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said sarcastically. “My boyfriend got pulled over by a police officer, where he had to go through a field sobriety test, and I am on a short leash with my job right now.”

“You sound like I knew my taillight was out and I just didn’t fix it.”

“Whatever. I’m going to go in. You’re welcome to follow me if you want, or you can go home.” She stomped out of the car and marched past Henry into her house. Lance sat, key in the car while he debated going in. She was in a mood and he wanted no part of it, but he also didn’t trust Henry to be alone with her. Henry disrespected her at every turn, and Lance couldn’t face himself if he left and Henry was rude to her. Brea was his, whether she was pissed at him or not. He heard the yelling before he reached the living room. Brea and Henry were in a faceoff on either side of the couch, screaming at each other.

“Ever since you’ve been with him it has been one pile of shit after another! I’m sick of dealing with it! Now you went and did exactly what they told you NOT to do, because I can guaran-damn-tee you somebody had a camera, and your ass will be all over the news! Again!” Henry shouted.

“I know! But I need you to fix it! I pay you to fix stuff!” she screamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. “I didn’t even do anything!”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! Perception is reality and the public perception of you right now fucking sucks!” Lance saw red and moved so fast Henry didn’t see it coming. Lance grabbed him by his coat and slammed him against the wall where he banged his head.

“You really need to shut the fuck up right now. You don’t get to spew your shit at her like any of this is her fault. You got a problem, you address me. If not, you can get the fuck out because last I checked, SHE pays YOU.” Lance was in Henry’s face, but Henry wisely didn’t move. Brea had on seen Lance unleashed once before, and both times it was a bit frightening. He spoke so calmly it was scary. This was not an emotional shout; it was calm and calculated.

“Well…” Henry blustered, some of his earlier anger dissipating in the face of a very pissed-off Lance. Henry put his hands up in defeat. “Look, all I was doing was looking after her best interest.”

Lance cocked his head, studying him. “No, you mean YOUR best interest. Don’t get this shit twisted; we know all you want is to get paid. And just because you have to do a little more work now than you did before, you’re pissed, you lazy ass.”

“It’s my JOB to make sure she’s portrayed in the best possible light.”

“Don’t bullshit me. You have been riding her coattails for years. You found her when she was just starting out, and she’s been too nice to fire you. Well, I’m not, and if you think she won’t listen to me, you need to think again. She can find a new agent who isn’t an asshole.”

Henry flicked his eyes at Brea before looking at Lance, figuring out real quick who was running this show. Brea wasn’t about to say shit.

“I have a contract.”
Really?
Brea thought.
That’s all he can come up with about why I should keep him?

Lance laughed softly, still in Henry’s face. “I can buy your contract out with less than two month’s work. Don’t insult my intelligence. What I suggest, because I am done with talking to you about this today, is that you leave. Now. Don’t call me, DEFINITELY don’t call and harass her, or her lawyer will contact you in a couple of days.” Brea could see Henry’s jaw working, and Brea knew he was getting pissed off, but what could he say? Lance had him, and he knew it.

“This isn’t fucking done,” Henry said before he walked out the door, slamming it. Lance looked at her as though daring her to speak.

“Uh….” Brea didn’t know what to say.
What the hell DO you say after something like that?

“What? Don’t tell me you got a problem with what I just said to Henry.

Brea was shocked, not certain why he was getting pissed at her. “I didn’t say that…” she started, but he clearly saw something he didn’t like because he laid into Brea.

Lance punched the wall, causing Brea to flinch instinctively. “Don’t fucking flinch away from me; you have NOTHING to be scared of when it comes to me. Don’t you know I would die for you? So if you think I’m going to let that asshole talk to you like you have lost your mind, then understand this. You need to get rid of his ass now because all he does is spout shit and get pissed at you.”

Brea wanted to lash out, angry and embarrassed because he was right. “You know what, Lance? Henry may be an asshole, but he has a point when it comes to you.”

“What point?”

“When he implied you’re bad for my image! He may not have worked very hard for his money before, but he sure is now, and you know what the common denominator in all this happens to be? YOU!” She jabbed her finger in his chest, making Lance take a step back. “Everything that has gone wrong in my life has happened since you’ve been in it. How do you explain that?” She crossed her arms, breathing heavily from frustration and exertion.

“You think I’m responsible for what happened to you?” He pointed at himself for emphasis. “So, I’m responsible for your brother? Or that shit with Raquel in the Mexican restaurant? I’m responsible for all that shit?”

“I’m saying being with you has made me a target, and all the stuff I do is subject to a different level of scrutiny I’m not used to. I’m supposed to be the nice one; I can’t continue to be subject to negative media attention.”

Lance scoffed. “You were never the nice one! That’s just what they called you, so don’t put that shit on me. You’re finally doing what you’ve always wanted to do, and because you get a little bit of negative attention, you want to be pissed at me. Grow the hell up! This is just like the shit with your mom!” Brea felt the blood drain from her face.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have this picture of how life is supposed to be, and if something doesn’t go the way you anticipate, you get angry. Part of the reason why you never went back was you couldn’t get your mom to change, so you just ignored her. And when we went back with the shit with your brother, you wanted to take over everything, and now you’re trying to force his hand to move here. Let the man make his own decisions. You can’t fix him. He has to fix himself. Same with your mother. And guess what, Brea? Life is messy as hell, and the best thing you can hope for is someone who wants to stand by you through the good or the bad, and that’s what I wanted to do for you. I wanted to be your go-to man, your rock, but I can’t do that if you believe I am part of the problem. I’m not; you’re just so fucking scared because of the instability with your job and your family that you don’t want to make waves.”

She had started crying midway through his speech, and couldn’t stem the tears if she tried.

“You don’t get it!
Maggie Beach
is my life.” She wiped her tears away furiously.

“No, Brea.
Maggie Beach
is your job; it will never be your life.”

“It’s the same thing, and if you don’t get that, then you don’t know me. And that shit about my mom. You don’t know what it was like with her; I
had
to get away.”

“But you don’t have to keep hiding. You have nothing to apologize for. You can’t continue to pretend to be something you’re not just so people don’t think you’re like her.” She flinched as if she’d been slapped, his observation hitting a little too close to home.

“If that’s the way you really feel, then maybe we don’t have anything to talk about,” Brea said quietly.

“No, we should keep talking about this. If you’re upset with me, then we need to discuss this because this isn’t what I want.”

“But I can’t do this.” She collapsed on her couch, running her hand over her face. “I need you to leave.”

“So, that’s it, you’re just going to tell me to leave.”

“Right now, I want you gone.” If she had been screaming, he would have stayed and fought with her. But she just sat there, black streaks down her face where her mascara had run from her crying, eyes bloodshot, hiccupping from her earlier crying jag and he knew he couldn’t put her through anything else. He loved her too much to do that. Lance kissed her forehead, wiping the stray tear that fell, and walked out the door knowing he was leaving his heart in her hands. Brea lay on her back on the couch, letting more tears come when she thought about what she had just done. She felt like she was splintering, knowing her life was about to fall apart as soon as the shit hit the fan. But all of a sudden, the loss of the job she held so dear was nothing compared to the fracturing of her heart.

T
o say the next three days were Hell on Earth would be an understatement. After Lance stormed out, Brea was physically unable to move from the couch, the pain in her heart bleeding over into the rest of her body. She had awakened disoriented on the couch the next day, still wearing her clothes from the evening before. Her breath smelled like butt, her face was streaked with mascara from all the crying and her hair looked like she stuck her finger in a light socket. Her cell phone beeped, signaling a voicemail, but when she saw the missed call from Garrett she didn’t have to listen. The firing they had promised finally happened. Dragging her ass upstairs to the shower, mostly to feel better, Brea ignored the fact Lance hadn’t called or left messages.
That’s what happens when you ask him to go
.

The phone calls came first from concerned family and friends, as news about the traffic stop with Lance and his field sobriety test hit the airwaves and the internet. They were the number one topic streaming on Twitter the day after it happened.
Thank you social media
, she thought woefully. Brea tried to ignore it, although they labeled him a drunk and her a hothead. She stayed in the house, calling in her agent and her lawyer to try to figure out whether she could find another job in this town. Her agent informed her he would be in touch, but she could tell he wouldn’t be optimistic until everything died down. She was newsworthy, but not in a good way. Raquel and Clare had called several times since the original story ran, but she deflected them when they asked about Lance, especially when it was reported she and Lance were on the outs. How in the hell the media found information, she didn’t know, but all it did was pour salt on the wound, especially since it was total silence on his end.

Today, when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the official press release about her firing was given. No one told her, but she found herself trending on Twitter again.
Did I mention I loathe the internet?
It was invented for no other purpose than to torture her, and it let everyone else know she was jobless. She had turned her phone off at the end of day two because she was sick of ignoring everyone, and the pressure was starting to get to her. Brea had no way to occupy her time except think about her fight with Lance and the stuff he said. She wasn’t overcompensating for her mother, was she? Brea always knew she was apprehensive and self-conscious because of her past. She had come to the realization after going home that she was running by staying away, but did that mean shame?

Brea sighed heavily from her position on the couch, where she hadn’t really moved except to shower; but that had been two days ago. And to get more alcohol. She had been drinking wine for the last two days, but fuck it, it’s not like she had a job right now. The only place she needed to be was South Carolina for Alex’s sentencing, but that wasn’t until next month. The pounding on the door, which just happened to match the pounding of her head, broke Brea out of her contemplation of the mess which had become her life. She dreaded answering the door; she knew the media had been camping outside her house the last two days, but she figured people would take a hint with her phone being off.

They tried pounding one more time, and then nothing. Brea felt a moment of gratitude believing they had left until she heard the key in the lock. Only two people had a key to her house. She should have known a silent phone and a locked door wouldn’t keep Raquel and Clare away. She stayed where she was, they would find her eventually.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Raquel stared down at her from the back of the couch. Clare stood at her side, eyes widened in shock at the sight Brea presented.