Girl Trouble (8 page)

Bonita thrust one into her hand.

Kat blinked, uncomprehending. The dark-haired woman in the picture was caressing the jaw of a well-known playboy, and the caption read, “Who Tamed the Kat?” Bonita handed her another magazine. The same woman was lying on the beach with a hat covering her face and a male hand sneaking under the string of her bikini. “All in a Day’s Work for Kat St. James?” Another magazine—this one showed the couple locked in a kiss in front of a hotel where the sign flashed yesterday’s date and time. “Time to Get a Room, Kat!” The last in the series showed her ducking into a jewelry store, hand in hand with the same playboy, a man she had never met. “Wedding Bells for Kat St. James?”

“What the hell?” A dozen scenarios flashed through her mind. “That’s not me, Bonita.”

“I know.” Bonita’s voice was perfectly calm, but it made Kat’s heart pound as she sat down next to her at the table.

“I mean it, Beauty. That’s not me. How could it be? I was with you all day yesterday.”

“I know it isn’t you. Just like I knew it
was
you in the newspaper the other day. I can recognize you from any angle, from a fraction of an angle.” Bonita pointed at the first picture. “Your fingers are longer, nails rounder.” The next picture, “That’s not your hip.” And the next, “Your shoulders are thinner.” Finally, “You don’t do that with your chin.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, relieved.

“Someone didn’t make an identity error here. The person who did this isn’t afraid you’re going to sue them. All of the pictures appeared today. Someone paid for this—probably a lot. Who do you think that could be?”

Fury brought her fully awake. “Herb.”

Bonita nodded. “And if he feels the need to publish fake photos just because we appear in public together once, then I must be a serious threat to your image. I can’t stay here with you.”

Kat snatched her phone from the kitchen table and sent a furious text to Herb.
Get your ass back here.
He was so dead. After she talked Bonita out of leaving, she was going to kill him. She tossed the phone back down.

“It’s too risky.” Bonita’s mouth was firm, lips drawn into a tight line. Kat had made those lips tremble last night. Now they looked hard enough to crumble. “I thought it would be fine. I
wanted
it to be fine, but we can’t do this, especially when you have a new movie coming out.”

“Beauty, this shit comes and goes. It’s just part of being a celebrity.” She tried to sound casual, amused and just a touch impatient but instead sounded desperate.

Bonita shook her head. “Gaining weight, getting engaged, getting arrested. Those things come and go. Being a lesbian will kill your career. You know it. I know it. Clearly, Herb knows it, too. For your sake, I need to get out of here. I won’t let the last twelve years be wasted and meaningless. Our sacrifice has to mean something.”

The certainty that had begun to grow last night when they left the theater took root.

“It does. It means we were stupid kids who didn’t know what we wanted. Now we do, or at least I do. That’s what last night was about. Showing you how good it could be. I don’t want this to end.”

Bonita pushed away from the table and walked across the kitchen to put her coffee cup in the sink. “It’s not going to end. You can come to Norton whenever you want. It’ll be just like it used to be.”

Kat stared at her, noticing for the first time she was fully dressed. Her smooth blond hair was still damp from a shower, and she was wearing makeup. Was her bag packed and sitting by the front door? Was there a taxi waiting at the bottom of the hill?

The contentment she had felt upon waking was gone. Her pulse raced again as old doubts fought to strangle the delicate roots of her newfound certainty.
Bonita doesn’t want forever with me. She only wants a week. She doesn’t feel what I feel. I’m not good enough for her. I’m never going to be good enough.

Her parents had thought she’d be home within a week, broke, knocked up, with her tail between her legs. She’d shown them, but it still hurt. Bonita’s parents had barely tolerated their friendship, making no secret of their disdain for their daughter’s wild friend. She’d shown them, too, achieving modest success before their fatal car accident, but their rejection had left marks. Her chosen career was ever precarious, each success dwarfed by the next goal, the next mountain of a blockbuster movie to climb and conquer. She didn’t know any actors who felt like they’d truly made it to the top. Would it ever be enough? Would
she
ever be good enough? For Hollywood or Bonita?

It’ll be just like it used to be.
Those words would have made her ecstatic if Bonita had spoken them last year. Now she felt dread, choking her, making it impossible to breathe, to think, and Bonita was walking toward the door. Kat braced her hands against the table, feeling shaken to her core, the way she always felt right before she mastered the emotional heart of an intense scene. She didn’t have time to mine her emotions now. If she let Bonita leave, she was going to lose her.
It’ll be just like it used to be.

“No,” Kat commanded.

Bonita jerked to a stop in the doorway.

Kat stood, feeling the weight of a dozen years of disappointment drop from her shoulders. Adrenalin surged through her, filling her with exhilaration and terror.

“No,” she said again, harshly, testing how it felt.
Right and true
.

She heard Johnny’s voice in her head.
“Who holds the power in every scene?”

“The Dominant.”

“Wrong,”
Destiny drawled.
“The submissive.”

The accord between Destiny and Johnny had been visible, palpable, seemingly irrevocable, and Kat had been filled with envy while watching them play. By the end of the week, she’d understood what they meant, and she understood it even more deeply now. Bonita made the rules in their relationship, but it was Kat’s job to push her boundaries. Push? Hell, she wanted to change the entire game, but in order for that to happen, Bonita had to want it, too. Not only that, she had to admit she wanted it. She had to ask for it.

Kat walked over to Bonita. “I can’t do this anymore. Now that I know what it could be like for us to be together—really together—I don’t want anything less.”

Bonita lifted her chin. “You chose this. You left Norton. You left
me
to launch your career. It’s too late to change your mind.”

Kat shook her head. “I was a stupid, eighteen-year-old kid who didn’t know love is rare. I thought I had something to prove before I could be happy, but I was dead wrong. So were you. Let’s give credit where credit is due—it wasn’t just me. You told me to go, over and over, the first time I left Norton and every year after that. You never asked me to stay. Not once.”

“You were dying to go. Why on earth would I ask you to stay?”

“You should have asked me to stay because you loved me.”

“Like that would have stopped you from leaving,” Bonita scoffed.

She was right. The knowledge stood between them, holding them apart like a buffer zone of insecurity and doubt. Kat pushed through it. “Ask me now,” she challenged.

Bonita shook her head. “You’re not the one leaving this time.”

“It’s not too late, Bonita. All the reasons we can’t be together are gone.” All except one—her career—and that was losing significance as her vision of their future solidified. “Your parents are dead, my love. They can’t disapprove anymore. And mine certainly aren’t complaining about the money I dump into their bank account. Do we really care about the rest of the world?”

“Kat, you’re being an idiot. Even if you were serious about ruining your career, let’s not pretend you’re a one-woman woman. You had a freaking ménage right before I got here. How long before more pretty pictures show up in the paper? You aren’t exactly famous for monogamy.”

Of course Bonita didn’t trust her. Kat had left her, year after year. Bonita didn’t know she had missed her every moment. “I did it because she looked like you. As for the boyfriend, I always take the men to bed, too. Much better to get a reputation for indulging in the occasional ménage than to have anyone think the Come-Hither Queen is gay, right? I’m sick of it. I don’t care anymore. As of this minute, consider me retired. That way if you leave me, it won’t be because you want to save my career. I can’t stop you from going, but at least admit you’re leaving me because you don’t want to stay.” That was the crux of it, the heart. Bonita never asked her to stay.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” Bonita said, taking a step down the hall.

Not good enough…never good enough.

Kat trembled as she fought to shake off the past. It was a simple mental adjustment, but it felt enormous. She gritted her teeth and stood firm. The past wasn’t good enough for either of them.

“Don’t call me when you get home.” The words felt like broken glass, sliding down her throat to slice her heart wide open. “I’m not going to live a lie anymore. I love you, Bonita. I’ve always loved you, but it’s all or nothing.”

Bonita flinched. “You don’t mean that, Kitty Kat. Things are better between us. Think about your career.
Proprietors.
You have a movie coming out—”

“I mean it.” Kat knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t money or fame. “All or nothing. I don’t want to be the thing you can’t have anymore.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I can have you anytime I want. So can anyone.”

Kat ignored the gibe. “Think about it. Your parents never let you do anything fun when we were kids, and even after they died, you continued to color between the lines. Such a goddamn good girl. No wonder you love submitting so much—you get to do what you’re told.”

Bonita crossed her arms and glared. “I’m a lesbian, and I own a sex shop. Don’t tell me I’m coloring between the lines.”

“Oh, I’m impressed.” Kat whistled, deliberately goading her. “The rest of the world might be fooled, but I know the truth. You’re an emotional masochist, denying yourself the thing you want more than anything else. Give it up, Bonita. The reward isn’t worth the punishment. Admit it.”

Bonita put her hands on her hips and glared, defiance pouring off her in irresistible waves. Her jaw was tight, eyes hard, shoulders proud.
That’s my girl. C’mon, make the leap with me.

Bonita shook her head and turned away. “I refuse to enable your insanity. You’ll thank me later.”

Kat wrapped her hand in Bonita’s damp, silky hair and pulled her head back, looking into her eyes as she took control of her body. Power flowed between them, and Kat knew damn well she wasn’t the only one affected. “This isn’t insanity. This is love. A life together. You want it as much as I do. I know you love me, Bonita. I know it on the deepest level of my soul, and so do you. Just admit it, and we’ll deal with the rest.”

Bonita’s expression was filled with terror and longing, a mirror of Kat’s emotions as she waited for her answer. Kat pressed her lips to Bonita’s cheek, her jaw, her neck, her lips, murmuring “stay” with each kiss, as if her exhortation could weave a spell to bind them. “Stay with me. Be with me. I will never leave you again.”

Bonita sagged in her grip and whispered in a broken voice, “Narnia.”

The word struck Kat like a fist, and she reeled back against the doorframe, stunned, as Bonita struggled out of her arms and rushed out the door.

Goddamn Kat.
Thank goodness her purse had been sitting on the hall floor where she had dropped it last night. She had her driver’s license, phone and a credit card. That was enough to get her home to Norton. Maybe she could grab an earlier flight. Tears poured down her face, but she could see well enough to make out the gates and the guardhouse at the bottom of the driveway. She had to get out of here.

They could never be together.

What the hell was Kat thinking? There was no happily ever after for them. They’d kissed it goodbye years ago.

Bonita paused at the gate, tempted to pick a direction and start walking, but getting lost in the Hollywood Hills would create more problems. The hairpin turns and zero shoulder might get her killed, and then she’d never make it back home where she belonged.

“Taxi, please?” she asked the guard when he came out to greet her.

“Sure.” He went back into the guardhouse, and she heard him make a call.

The wait was only ten minutes, but it felt interminable, giving her too much time to hear Kat’s husky whisper echo in her head.
“Stay…stay…stay.”
She’d wanted to say yes so badly, she’d choked on the word, drowning, unable to think, speak, or do anything but obey her survival instinct. She had made everything stop.

Now that the crisis was over, it felt unreal. Kat couldn’t possibly mean what she had said.

Her taxi arrived, and Bonita climbed inside.

“Where to, miss?” Panic made the driver’s question buzz in her ears. She wanted to say the airport, but she couldn’t get the words past her lips. “The ocean.”

“Venice Beach?”

“Sure.”

The driver pulled away from the gate, and Bonita closed her eyes and sank into the bucket seat. The taxi smelled faintly of smoke, and for the first time in her life, she itched for a cigarette.
“Cigarettes will kill you.”
She heard her mother’s cool voice in her head, and she let it continue, rolling through a litany of things Bonita should never, could never, would never do.
“I’m sick of doing what I’m told. Aren’t you?”
Kat whispered in reply.