All The Pretty Lights (The "A" List #1) (16 page)

Listening to Andrea negate the horrible deeds she’s done, how she justifies the underhanded, twisted things she’s managed to do sickens me. The people she talks about, they’re just pawns in her games.

I’m
just a pawn in her game.

In
Colt’s
game.

I flashback to the first time I’d met her, the first time I’d heard her speak of Colt. I remember how she’d made him sound like a commodity, like a
thing
. Well, turns out, now
I’m
a commodity, a thing to be used and manipulated to suit others’ needs.

My stomach twists and knots, cramping and spasming. The thought of what these people have made me into is sickening. All the lights, the pretty lights, flashing at me, hypnotizing me, they kept me from seeing the truth.

They almost got me
killed
.

My nose twitches, the hatred and anger doing things to my body. I’ve heard enough, I’ve recorded
enough
proof. It’s time this chick realized just
who
she was dealing with, just
who
she was screwing over. It’s time she realized exactly
why
you don’t do that to a NY girl, even
if
she happens to be wearing a ball gown the size of a small tent right now, she’s still gonna kick your ass.

Escaping from my hidden place inside the stall, I slowly walk with determination to the vanity, inserting myself in between Andrea and her friend, a woman I’ve never seen before.

I can feel the level of surprise as they both stare in wide-eyed amazement at my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands. With no sense of loyalty, the unknown woman to my left quietly turns and exits the room, abandoning her friend.

Drying my hands with one of the cloth towels neatly piled in a wooden basket, I finally speak to the God-smacked Andrea.

“So. You took Audrey down a peg or two?” Once my hands are thoroughly dried, I cast the used towel aside and stand firm, resolute. “And who’s gonna take
you
down a peg or two?”

She has no answer for me.

Sadistically, I raise my eyes to hers in the mirror, cracking a smile.

She’s about to find out.

~*~

COLT

How do I
do
this?

I’ve seen other people do this. Hell, I’ve even done it
myself
in character in films. Facing the larger than life man in front of me, knowing what a big part of Daphne’s life he is, has me shaking like a leaf.

I’ve planned to take him aside, maybe for a long drive, where we could talk, man to man, somewhere near the end of their week-long visit. You know, once he’s had some time to get to know me, and not just what people
think
they know about me.

I certainly never planned on talking to him about such a serious, life-changing question here and now.

But I can hardly contain myself.

The ring in the small velvet box is burning a hole in my pocket, with my hand inadvertently skimming over my pocket every other minute or so to check that it’s safe. There’s no way I’ll be able to continue this way. Not for another six days until he returns to NY from his vacation, and not even for another minute.

Sometimes you just have a
need
to do something. Not necessarily because you won’t have another opportunity to do it, but because you can’t possibly imagine missing one and waiting for the next to come.

If I don’t ask him now, talk to him about the most important thing I’ll ever do in my life, I know that I’ll be miserable every moment of every day until I actually
do
ask him.

I won’t be able to think. I won’t be able to sleep. I won’t be able to mask the nervousness. I won’t have peace with myself if I condemn another minute of this turmoil on my heart.

I have to do it now.

A perfect opportunity arises as Mrs. Baker accompanies her daughter to the ladies’ room for a quick makeup check before we take our seats in the viewing room.

“Mr. Baker--”

The rosy-cheeked, silver haired man chuckles and interrupts me. “Tom. Call me Tom, son.”

My heart drops when he calls me son. Does he know? Could he
already
know what I’m about to ask him?

I clear my throat. “Tom. I was hoping we could talk for a moment before the girls get back?”

His smile is pleasant, his hand sincere as it’s clapped down on my shoulder. “Knowing my wife, we could have enough time to have a few conversations before she’s done fixing her lipstick.”

The older man and his wife seem to have such an easy, relaxed way around each other. It’s refreshing. It’s something I admire. After thirty years together, they still light up when looking at each other, when talking about each other, even when joking about how long one takes in the restroom.

I want that for myself. I want to have that kind of marriage of my own.

I want it with his daughter.

I just have to grow the balls to ask.

“I—I know this isn’t a great time for this. I, uh, I wanted to tell you how exceptional your daughter is.”

He nods, agreeing.

Taking a deep breath, I continue. “I’ve never met anyone like her before. I never thought someone like her even existed. The talent she has, the zest for life. Her sense of adventure. Her kind, generous heart. She’s just…
perfect
.”

I know I can’t stop, not even for a breath at this point. If I do, I might lose my nerve. “My life has been better just from having her in it. She—I—I can’t see my life without her. I think you know what I’m asking, and I know you don’t know me, don’t have any reason at all for even giving me the time of day, but I
have
to tell you, I
have
to ask you.”

He’s quiet.

“I love your daughter. Your daughter loves me. I want to ask her--” I’m about to do it.

“We’re leaving. Come on dad.” Daphne storms up behind me, interrupting, taking her dad’s elbow and attempting to lead him away form the quiet corner we’ve found.

I don’t know who’s more dumbfounded right now. Me, her dad, or her mom, who’s run up behind Daphne, seeming to have been chasing her daughter as she’s out of breath.

“Daphne, what’s wrong?” Tom Baker asks his daughter before I have a chance to. “Where are we going? Why?”

I can’t see her eyes, can’t read the emotion in them, but I can hear it just fine in her voice. “We don’t belong here. I—I need to leave.”

What the hell’s going on here?

“Baby,” I move to turn Daphne to face me but she pulls away, shrinking from me.

“No!” She practically yells, having earned a surprised look from at least a few of the passers by. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that again!”

A frosty ice begins to spread like a spider web around my heart, squeezing. She’s never spoken to me this way, she’s never reacted to me the way she is now. I may have deserved it on more than one occasion, but she doesn’t know that—

Shit!

She knows!

She’s found out just what I’ve done, just who I am. The things I’ve hidden from her, the things I’ve convinced myself I would never do again, she must know them. The look of contempt in her eyes, the disgust lacing through her words, they’re not for the Colt she’s known.

They’re for the Colt she doesn’t know, the
real
Colt.

My heart pounds, knowing that she’s slipping from me. Every second that passes is like an eternity, creating more and more distance.

“I
never
want to see you again.” She’s more than pissed. She’s irate.

I’m about to lose everything all at once, everything that really matters. I can’t let it happen.

“You’ll never see me again, I swear.” This has got to work. “I’ll never call you, I’ll never try to see you again, I’ll never bother you.” She seems satisfied. But you’ve got to give me a minute to explain myself first.”

Her eyes narrow. I’ve broken her stride, and she seems confused about the sales pitch I’ve made.

The fire in her eyes shows me just how serious she is about wanting to rid herself of me. I’ve given her a chance to do just that, but it will mean she’s got to listen to what I’ve got to say first.

“Please,” I plead. “One minute. I swear. That’s all I need.” I know I sound like an arrogant bastard right now, but hey, that’s what I am.

She loudly exhales, fighting the urge to slap me. I see it in her arm tensing.

“
One
minute. That’s it. That’s
all
you get, and then I
never
see you again.”

I’ve got sixty seconds to say whatever combination of words will do justice to how badly I want her, to how we
can’t
end like this.

~*~

“Sixty seconds starts now.” Daphne’s arms are crossed across her chest.

The lounge reserved for any needs I might have while here at the premiere is coming in handy for our private conversation. I had hoped I’d be able to talk to her in private, but she’s too smart for that.

Insisting that her parents come with us, they’re standing at the far side, near the door, ready to leave as soon as their daughter tells them she’s ready.

I’ve already wasted a second, lost that small bit of time that I need for this.

“I’m an asshole.”

No one seems to disagree. I continue.

“A selfish, self-centered, narcissistic prick. I use people, I manipulate people and things to get what I want. I can be insincere, jealous, insensitive, and some would even say cruel. That’s me. Part of me.

“I’ve been careless, reckless, and thoughtless, when it comes to other people. When I met you, I
never
thought I’d feel the way I do about you. I never thought there was a person out there
like
you.

“Trust me, I deserve you telling me to go fuck myself and walking out that door. I know it. I’ll tell you what
you
deserve though … you deserve someone who will love you unconditionally, and someone who will do whatever it takes to make you happy. You deserve someone who’s honest with you. You’ll always deserve so much more.

“But here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to promise to love you each and every single day of my life. I’m going to promise to do every single thing it takes to make you happy. I’m going to promise to be honest with you, even if it means you’ll see what a damned asshole I really am.

“I lied to you. The night I met you, when you gave up your seat for the soldier and I gave up mine… I
didn’t
do it because it was the right thing to do. I did it because it meant I’d get to spend time with you and hopefully get you into bed afterward.”

Almost immediately I turn to Mr. Baker. “I’m really sorry you have to hear this.”

My time is running short. “That’s not the only reason I did it though. I also did it because I knew it would get me a lot of publicity. It would be good for my image. Then, the next day, I lied to you again. I knew you’d never agree to come away with me, you’d be too smart to get caught up in this type of life with a guy like me. I knew you’d never sell yourself out and come along for the fifteen minutes of fame that most girls would either. I hired you as my stylist as a rouse, a cover to get you to come with me for my own purely selfish reasons.

“I did those things. Each and every one of them. I don’t know what would have happened if I were honest with you from the start. If I know you, you’d tell me to go fuck off and I never would have seen you again. I never would have gotten to know you. I never would have fallen in love with you.

“I can’t promise you that I wouldn’t do the same exact thing if I had the chance to go back in time and re-do it. But what I
can
promise you is that I will never, ever, lie to you, or use you like that again”.

I feel the minute running out, know that this could be the very last time I see her face. “I swear to you, Daphne Baker, that I will be the man you deserve. I will be the man you’ve shown me I can be. Without you I never would have thought there was any reason to want to change, to want to be better. You’ve shown me there is. I don’t deserve you giving me a second chance, I know it. I deserve to be alone, to live this hollow life by myself. You’ve given me a glimpse of what it could be though, with you, and God help me I want it. I know you do, too, if we can find some way to start fresh, to move on.”

“Are you done?” She asks.

The burning flames in her eyes haven’t calmed. I’ve spilled my heart out. I’ve bared my soul. There’s nothing else I can do.

~*~