The Gravity Between Us (New Adult Contemporary Romance) (25 page)

❄ ❄ ❄

We walk through the door of the penthouse literally twenty minutes after the show ends. The host said “good night,” and Payton latched onto my arm so quickly, it made my head spin. Before anyone else had the chance to exit the theater, I had already hailed a cab. It must have been destiny or an uncanny coincidence, because finding a cab in downtown LA is generally as easy as solving a
Where’s Waldo
puzzle.
I never was any good at spotting that elusive little bastard
.

Payton drops her clutch on the coffee table and swiftly kicks off her shoes before flopping backward onto the couch. “I hope Lauren is all right,” she mumbles once I’m seated next to her.

Seriously? She’s worried about Lauren right now?
I want to ask her what the hell
that’s
about, but opt not to; my drama quota for the night has been surpassed. “Lauren is fine. Gunner promised to get her home safely—not that I’m particularly fond enough of her to care at the moment.”

“Okay,
you
might not be fond of Lauren, but she’s
my
friend,” she reprimands me. “Do me a favor and try to be civil to her. Do
yourself
the favor. You still have to work with her on
The Relishing,
and it’ll probably be easier for both of you if you’re not at war with each other.”

Damn it. She has a point.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ll pass the peace pipe or whatever tomorrow. Gunner is going to call you tomorrow, too. He wanted to apologize to you in person, but I told him he’d have to wait because we’re making a quick getaway.”

She doesn’t have the chance to respond before my phone starts to ring. I pluck it out of my purse and breathe an agitated sigh. “It’s Lawrence.”

“Give me that stupid thing!” She yanks the phone from my hand and prods at the end-call button until the screen goes black. She hands it back to me once she’s sure it’s turned off. “You can turn it on again before we go to sleep. I know tomorrow is a big day, and your ‘people’ will all have seizures if they can’t get in touch with you.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle. Then, for some weird reason, a memory from our childhood pops into my head and gets me laughing harder. Payton ruffles her eyebrows at me, wordlessly asking for an explanation. “Do you remember that time we were playing in my back yard? I think we were in, like, fourth grade—I jumped off the swing in mid-air, landed the wrong way, and fractured my ankle?”

“I remember you having a fractured ankle.”

“Yeah, but don’t you remember the rest of it? I screamed, and you jumped off your swing so fast to help me up. When you realized I was really injured, you sort of threw me on your shoulders and gave me a piggyback ride into the house. I was crying and scared, but you were
so
brave about it.”

“Oh, right! I carried you into the house, dropped you on the couch, and you called me your knight in shining armor. And then–”

“I kissed you. My mom ran upstairs to get her car keys so she could take me to the hospital, and I kissed you right on the lips.”

She snuggles farther into my embrace and laughs. “How could I have forgotten that?”

“I don’t know. That was our first kiss.”

“Does that count, though? I mean, we were nine.”

“It counted for me.
From that moment on, I knew I was safe with you. Other than my dad, you’re the only person who has ever made me feel like nothing bad could happen to me.”

“I’m not actually a knight, and I definitely don’t have any shining armor, but I’m glad you feel safe with me.”

“I do. But right now, I’m also feeling very tired. Wanna go to bed?”

She stares at me for a while before hopping to her feet. She bends over, scoops me into her arms, and plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Fair lady,” she says in a horrible British accent. “I shall carry you to the ends of the earth! Or to our bed, whichever we should first encounter!”

❄ ❄ ❄

The persistent buzz of my Blackberry startles me awake from the sweetest dream. The fantasy of riding off into the sunset on horseback with Payton is still fresh in my mind when I notice the digital clock on the bedside table. It’s half past five in the morning.
Whoever the hell is calling me better have something really important to say.
I fumble around in the darkness, determined to find my phone without having to turn on a single light. When I do ultimately find it, I rip it from the nightstand with an irrational viciousness.
Damn it, I was enjoying that dream
! I yawn as I check the caller ID.
Home
.

“Hello?” I ask groggily, my voice hoarse and thick with hints of sleep. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Payton stirring beneath the sheets.
She has to be up for class in, like, an hour
.

“Kendall, honey!” My mother’s voice bursts through the receiver. “Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, Mom, you did,” I cough. “What’s up?” I’m wracked with dread. There’s only one reason she would be calling me this early. Something must’ve happened to my dad. “Oh my god, is Daddy okay?”

As soon as the question leaves my lips, Payton is wide awake. Even in the shadowy murkiness of early morning, I can see the spark of alarm in her eyes. She springs up and turns on the bedside lamp. In the full light of day, I realize that she is more than alarmed, she is downright distraught. She shoots a questioning look in my direction. I hold up my hand, letting her know that I need to concentrate on the call.

“Yes, honey. Daddy is fine. I can’t believe you were sleeping,” Mom laughs.

I can’t believe you’re bothering me at this hour for no good reason.
Snootily, I ask, “You do know that California is three hours behind Eastern Standard Time, right?”

“I’m sorry. We thought you would be up. Your father and I are just so excited! We wanted to call to congratulate you before he left for work!”

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

She harrumphs. “You honestly don’t know?”

“No, Mom, I don’t! What the hell is going on?”

“Kendall Ann Bettencourt! The language,” she warns, but in her second breath she twitters with enthusiasm. “Honey, you were nominated for an Elite Award!”

At first, the phrase doesn’t register like there’s earsplitting static or a raging beehive inside my head. My vision is hazy. I must have been sucked into some kind of time warp, or black hole or something, because nothing around me seems real. Every single object in the room has a foamy, cartoonish halo around its edges.
Maybe I’m dead?
Then I remember that I’ve got the phone to my ear.
No, how could I be on the phone with my mother if I were dead
? “Wait, Mom.
What
?”

“You were nominated for an Ellie! We just saw it on TV!”

This time the words reach my brain, but I can’t say anything in return. I’m not sure how long I sit in absolute silence before my mother’s shrieking wrestles me back to the land of the living. “Kendall, did you hear me?”

I nod my head, forgetting that she can’t see me through the phone. “Uh huh. Yes, I heard you. Thank you for letting me know. I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Okay. We love you! Congratulations again!”

I mumble a quick, “Love you too,” and let the phone slip out of my hands. It hits the bed and bounces back into my lap with a thump. I follow it the whole way with my eyes, and that’s when I realize Payton is soundlessly staring at me, anxious for me to speak.

“Is everything okay?” she asks. When her voice finally penetrates my skull, I crumble into a mess of tears. It’s the most idiotic thing to do, but I can’t help myself. “Kendall, you’re scaring me. Please, tell me what’s going on.” She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me in close to hold me tight as I cry. I’m sobbing so hard, I can barely breathe much less speak.

“Best Actress,” I simper.

“What?” She relaxes her grip and looks at me.
There,
I think.
That twinkle in her eyes. She gets it.
“Oh my god! You got the nomination?”

I press my temple to her shoulder and nod.

“Kendall! You were nominated for an
Ellie
!” She laughs a great big laugh. “Why are you crying? That is awesome!”

“I can’t.” I hiccup. “I can’t.”

She swooshes my bangs away from my eyes. “Shhh, sweetie. Calm down first.”

I draw in a mighty mouthful of air and settle myself before I speak. “I can’t believe it. I really cannot. It’s some kind of mistake.”

“It isn’t a mistake. The list of nominees must be so carefully chosen, there’s no way your name could have slipped in by accident. And it shouldn’t be so hard to believe. Haven’t people been telling you this would happen for months now?”

“Payton, I mostly don’t listen when people talk—especially media people, you know that.”

“Kendall Bettencourt, Elite Awards Nominee.” She wipes a tear from my cheek as she considers the phrase. “Doesn’t it sound fantastic?”

“I don’t know.” I sniffle. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it though, won’t I?”

She smiles. “Yes, you will. Don’t worry, you can handle it.”

“I love how you always manage to talk me down from a panic.”

“Of course I do.” She places her hands on the sides of my face. “And I’m so proud of you. You deserve this.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Obviously you do. This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t deserve it.” She smirks and goes to kiss me. Our lips are just inches apart when my goddamn Blackberry rings again. I shoot a scornful look at the thing, release a peeved huff that lets Payton know I’d rather throw it off the balcony than answer it.

“Pick it up,” she says. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Okay.” I let it ring a few more times, choosing to ignore it in favor of watching Payton retreat to the bathroom.

“Hi, Lawrence,” I finally answer.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say to me? First, let me tell you that I don’t appreciate the way you took off last night without saying a word about it to me. I don’t need to know where you’re going or who with, but I
do
need to know that you’re leaving. Second, congratulations. You’re an Elite Awards Nominee.”

“Thank you, I know. I spent the last ten minutes crying about it.”

“Did James call you? Son of a bitch! I told him that
I
wanted to tell you.” He sounds like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. It cracks me up.

“No, my mom called me. My parents saw the announcements on TV.”

“Oh. That’s okay, then. Anyway, I need you to lay low today. My phone has been ringing off the hook with media people begging for interviews, and I don’t want you answering any questions until you hit the Nomination Party Red Carpet. ”

My stomach does a slow, sickening somersault at the mention of the party. “Yeah, about the party. I’m not going with Gunner.”

“What?” His pitch drops a solid two octaves.

Crap.
“I know it isn’t what we agreed on, but I asked Payton to come with me. I already talked to Gunner about it. He’s cool with it.”

“Kendall, is this your way of telling me you’re done with him? Sweetheart, I can’t keep switching out your escorts. Jumping from guy to guy isn’t going to help your image any.”

“
No, I’m not saying ‘I’m done’ with him,” I reply, swallowing my budding frustration. “And I have no intention of jumping from guy to guy either. Please, can I just
not
have to seem cooler than I am tonight? I want to be myself for once, and that means I get to take whoever the hell I want to this stupid party.”

“All right. Bring Payton,” he forfeits. “By the way, I’m going to have to meet you at the Hilton instead of picking you up. I’ll be too busy setting up your interviews to get away.”

No skin off my ass.
“Fine. I’ll meet you at the party,” I end the call with a grump.

“I can always tell when you’ve been on the phone with Lawrence. After you hang up, you look beyond stressed out,” Payton says as she saunters out of the bathroom in a towel. “What happened?”

“Nothing much. He was being exhausting, as usual, trying to tell me what to do. He instructed me to avoid the media, which means I’m basically under house arrest for the day.”

“I’m sorry he’s a perpetual jerk.” She slinks over to me and puts her hands on my hips. “But the house arrest thing could be fun if I play hooky.”

I wrap my arms around her neck and stand on my tiptoes to kiss her cheek. “You’re getting me wet.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I mean your hair. It’s dripping on me.” I press my finger to the tip of her nose. “Dirty mind… No, you’re not playing hooky. Hurry up and get dressed. I refuse to let you take over the job of being the ‘late one.’”

She throws on a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt and a pair of jeans and grabs her messenger bag from floor. “See you later,” she says before making a mad dash out the door.

❄ ❄ ❄

My phone continues to blow up throughout the day. Every person I’ve ever given my number to, including those I haven’t spoken to in years, calls to congratulate me. It’s just beginning to get on my nerves by the time Payton gets home at five. “Hey, I’m home,” she calls from behind the couch.

“Have a good day?” I ask over my shoulder, before getting up to kiss her hello. The first thing I see when I turn around is a giant bouquet of flowers—a spray of electric blue orchids mixed in with hot pink stargazer lilies. The sight of the loveliest soul I’ve ever met holding a cascade of blossoms is too much beauty for my senses to handle. Tears blur my vision as I jump into her arms with so much force she’s barely able to keep from toppling over.

“I didn’t know buying you flowers would be hazardous to my health,” she mumbles through the series of quick kisses I plant on her lips.

“I’m sorry! Here you are, congratulating me all proper like, and I nearly kill you. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. And you’re welcome.”

I take the flowers from her and search the kitchen cabinets for a vase.

“Have you been out at all today?” she asks at my back.

“I went for a swim earlier, but other than that, no. I’ve been a good girl, following orders.”