Kissed Blind (A Hot Pursuit Novel Book 2) (24 page)

I chuckled. “I guess so.”

We drove along and pulled off the highway into a business district. He stopped in front of a sign that read, “Reichel and Weinbaum, Attorneys at Law.”

“We’re here.” He put the car in park.

I untied my scarf and dropped it on the seat as I exited the car. I walked to his side and allowed him to lead the way.

He began to pull the door open but stopped. “If you’ll wait for me out here, I’ll just be a second.”

“Oh, of course. Take your time.”

Oliver entered the building, and it felt like I stood there for half an hour. In the time I waited, the car that had followed appeared across the street. I stayed poised with my hands behind my back and watched the window go down and a large lens extend out. Shot after shot was taken of me.

When Oliver emerged from behind the door, he saw him. The man behind the camera got out of his car and walked toward us.

Oliver clutched a package of papers in his hand and leaned into my ear. “Walk toward the car and say nothing. Get in and we’ll go. I’ll lose him again.”

I nodded, and as he led us to the car, the man began to shout questions with his camera raised. “Is this your new girlfriend, Oliver? Where’s Camille? Why were you seeing a lawyer? Are you and Camille getting divorced?”

Twenty-Seven

It was question after awful question. I extended my hand and pushed the photographer back when he got too close to Oliver.

“Hey! Hey! You can’t touch me,” he shouted.

“Back off,” I said with one hand on my weapon and the other on his chest.

Oliver shut his door and revved the engine. I quickly got in.

“Who is she, Oliver? Are you having an affair? Are you cheating on Camille?” he asked, racing across the street.

Oliver nearly missed hitting him as we pulled into traffic. He groaned. “They always find me. I swear they must have tracking chips in my shoes.”

“Have you ever had your cars checked out?” I tied the scarf back over my hair and secured it again. “They could have put something under your car.”

“My normal guy looks over my cars regularly. They’ve never found anything. These people are damn parasites.” He shook his head and checked his mirror. “Damn it, so much for privacy. He’s already behind us. He probably knows I’m going back home so he’ll be along for the ride. He won’t be able to get past the first guard into the neighborhood at least.” He briefly took both hands off the wheel and ran them through his hair.

“You all right? They’ve really gotten to you this time.”

“It’s going to cause a problem I don’t want to deal with. It is what it is though.” He exhaled through his nostrils and sucked on his teeth. “It’ll be published on the internet within the hour, guaranteed.”

“Is it that out of the ordinary that you’d be seeing a lawyer? I bet you see them all the time with contracts and movies and what not.”

He sighed. “These aren’t just any lawyers.” He muttered a few other obscenities under his breath, hit the gas again, and we soared down the freeway. Oliver didn’t try to lose him like he had before; the damage was done. The photographer kept up with us but didn’t make it through the community gate. We pulled back into the garage, and Oliver shut off the engine.

“Thanks for handling him and pushing him back,” he pulled the keys from the ignition and sat with his hands on the seat.

“No problem. I wish I could have punched him for you.” I balled up the scarf and placed it back in the glove box.

“I’m glad you didn’t. You would have had assault charges slapped against you before we arrived back here. Those people are itching to sue.” He picked up his documents from the center consol. “We should grab a little something to eat. This is going to be a long day.”

As soon as Oliver’s soles hit the marble floor inside, Camille’s voice called from somewhere deep inside the house. Oliver closed his eyes, and his shoulders sagged as he let out a deep breath. He placed the documents in a cabinet above the refrigerator. An impressive display of food was set up on the island. Sandwiches were stacked on a platter, various fruits piled in bowls, salad, a full selection of dressings, and plate after plate of different kinds of sushi. Camille continued to call.

“Please, have something to eat while you can.” He looked down at his watch. “We’re going to need to leave in about an hour. I have to speak to Camille.”

“Sure. I’ll find Vance.”

He left the kitchen, and I went back to the living room only to find Vance whispering to Cici. She was tucking her hair behind her ear, leaning into his lips. She had on a cute, black satin cocktail dress that stopped just above the knee. I cleared my throat, and their heads turned my way.

“There’s food in the kitchen. Oliver said we should grab something now before we need to leave in about an hour.”

“Yeah, I know,” Vance answered, not bothering to look my way. “We’ll be there in a second. We’re just discussing something.”

“Fine.” I spun on my heels and stomped back to the kitchen. I helped myself to a small sandwich and a few pieces of a California roll.

I sat at the kitchen table as a couple of new people entered the room. They had bags slung over their shoulders with various things sticking out of them like they’d packed up in a hurry. I assumed they were part of the hair and makeup crew. They dropped their bags on the floor out of the way and grabbed a couple of plates.

A brunette with a messy bun and sticks poking out of her head looked over the food, plate in hand, wide-eyed and wincing. “Whoa, that was about to get ugly. Glad we got out of there.”

“Why do you think he was at that lawyer’s office?” A well-manicured man with a soft, feminine voice said. I think he had more makeup on than I did.

“There’s only one reason why you visit them. I heard they handled the Tom Cruise/Katie Holmes divorce. They’re supposed to be the best.” She’d placed a few items on her plate and waited for her friend to finish dressing his salad.

I picked up my chopsticks and stuck a bundle of rice and seaweed in my mouth. The smear of wasabi on top singed my nostrils as I began to chew. I coughed, and my eyes welled with tears. I twisted the cap off my bottled water and downed it. It extinguished some of the heat, and I wiggled my nose until the full brunt of the burn passed. When my vision cleared, the two who’d been chatting up at the island were at my side.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” the man asked with a hand on my shoulder.

“Basil, of course she’s not okay. Can I get you something?” She patted my back.

“No, I’m fine. I just put the sushi in my mouth wrong. The wasabi went up my nose.”

Basil threw his hands up. “Oh honey, that sushi is from Gen’s. Their wasabi is nothing to mess with. I’ll put all kinds of crazy stuff in my mouth, but that’s not one of them.” He chuckled to himself.

“Oh my God, Basil, stop. You don’t even know her.”

“Stop being such a prude, Ginny. I’m sure she can handle it. Can’t you, doll?”

I blotted my tears and didn’t answer.

Ginny shook her head and began stroking my jacket. “Is this Dior? It’s beautiful.”

“Really?” Basil sat next to me and rubbed one of the flowers on my jacket between his fingers. “These are hand-stitched silk flowers. This screams de la Renta. It’s gorge. But, sweetie, I can’t let you walk the carpet with your hair like that.”

“
Ba
-sil,” she said. “You can’t just walk up to a girl and tell her, her hair is a wreck.”

I frowned and touched my ponytail. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Basil stood up and grabbed his bag. “Nothing is wrong with it. It could just be more right. Let me fix this. The collar of this jacket demands a high up-do to highlight the lines of your neck. Ginny, fix her makeup.”

“My makeup is wrong too?” So much for feeling like a million bucks; I felt more like the ugly stepsister.

“Sweetie, don’t take it personally. Celebrities hire us for a reason. They don’t look as good as they do on their own. You’re already naturally stunning.” She grabbed my face and thoroughly looked me over. “These eyes. Basil, look at her eyes.”

“I know. I know. Already noticed. She’s totally fetch. They’re like tortoise shell with pretty green flecks. I won’t start on her lashes.” Basil dropped his bag on the floor behind me and opened it up, placing various products on the table next to my plate.

“You’re the one who’s been in the tabloids with Oliver lately… the bodyguard, right?” Ginny swirled a large brush in a pale shade of pressed powder.

I nodded. “None of it’s true.”

“Of course it’s not,” Basil said, but his tone implied he might have thought otherwise.

“All that stuff is just crap anyway.” Ginny studied my face a bit more. “Now, you just need a little fine tuning. Plus the wasabi made your mascara run. Just sit back and let us take care of this.” Her eyes narrowed like she was plotting her moves. She put her brush down and dabbed a mixture of this and a blob of that into her inner wrist to get the perfect shade to match my skin.

“Okay, thank you,” I said.

Basil teased, sprayed, and pinned while Ginny powdered, lined, and brushed. Not more than twenty minutes later, they were putting all their supplies away.

Ginny stood back with her hands on her hips. “Magnificent, if I do say so myself.”

Basil stepped next to her and tilted his head from side to side. “A masterpiece. Red carpet ready.”

They faced each other and high-fived. Ginny brought a mirror out of her bag and handed it to me. One look and I was speechless. I’d never seen myself done up that way and it took a second to recognize the girl staring back at me. It didn’t look like I had a ton of makeup on, but I’d felt her apply layer after layer. My skin looked airbrushed-flawless, and my eyelashes were thick and fanned out more beautiful than a peacock’s feathers. My eyes looked bigger than usual, and my lips were plumped up in a shade of rose the flower would envy.

My hair was a whole other artistic piece to behold. I held the mirror to the sides of my head and tried to see as much as I could. He’d pinned it up in a simple, sleek, and stylish way I’d never seen before. Not one hair was out of place. 

“I don’t know what to say.” I handed Ginny the mirror, stunned.

“Say nothing. Your face says it all, sweetie.” She smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It was our pleasure. Now, one piece of advice while you’re out there today,” Basil offered.

“What?”

“Smile. But not like, a big Julia Roberts smile. A soft, sweet, non-toothy smile. You’re probably going to get more attention because of the picture released a little while ago. Say nothing and be pretty. Got it?”

“Okay, that’s good advice. I appreciate it.”

They put their bags back where they’d originally set them and sat down with plates of food. I wasn’t going to risk eating anything else and messing up my makeup. I pushed my food aside.

Cici’s laugh entered the room before she and Vance did. I took my plate over to a garbage can and dumped my uneaten food.

Vance’s eyes met mine for a second, and he did a double take. “What happened to you?”

I couldn’t read his expression. “Why?” I pointed my chin in the direction of Ginny and Basil, patting the side of my head. “They fixed me up a little. Is something wrong?”

He covered his mouth with his hand and ran it down his chin. “No, it’s just your face. I’ve never seen you look like this before.”

“Is that good or bad?” His expression was a cross between shock and something else.

“Good. Definitely good.”

I smiled and looked down.

“Vance, I made you a plate. Come sit,” Cici called.

He looked over at her and back at me. A moment passed where I thought his contempt and anger had briefly disappeared, but as she said his name, it was like a reminder had been whispered in his ear. His face dropped, and he walked away.

Cici looked at her phone’s screen. “I’m going to check on Camille and Oliver. We need to get moving if we’re going to stay on schedule.”

“Be careful up there,” Basil warned. “There might still be venom in the air.”

“I’m all too familiar. Ginny, Basil, thanks so much.” She disappeared from the kitchen. A few minutes passed, and Cici walked back in. “Vance and Diana, I need you both in the hallway. The car’s arrived.”

Out in the other room, bitter words were being exchanged between Camille and Oliver, echoing through the corridors.

“After this, after all this, this is how you treat me,” Camille said in a hushed tone, but the acoustics allowed the sound to travel without effort. “You’re ungrateful.”

“Just sign the papers and we can end this easily.” Oliver’s voice hardened.

“I won’t. Our image and everything we’ve built will crumble. Is that what you want?” She spoke in a tremulous whisper.

“We won’t crumble, you will. Sign it, or I’ll tell everyone what you did.”

Her tone dropped deeper. “No one will believe you.”

“I have proof.”

“You have nothing. It was twenty years ago, and you’re just as guilty as me.”

“I’m not guilty of anything.”

“The hell you’re not. Drop it and I’ll forget you mentioned this.”

“It’s over.”

“No, you’re over. Utter one word and I’ll destroy you.” The threat ricocheted off the halls.

Cici, Vance, and I crept into the foyer. Camille stood at the bottom of the stairs in a bright rubicund chiffon dress that pooled at her feet. She turned slowly as we entered and gave us her Hollywood smile.

“Oh, there you are. Shall we go?”

A broach of crusted jewels pinched the fabric below her bosom, spilling it like a bloody waterfall from her breast. Her hair fell in waves down her back, held up at her temples with what looked like a string of diamonds. Looking at her pale skin and red lips one would have thought she were an angel.