Notorious Page 4

  Sarah regarded her as if seeing her for the first time. “Don’t you love the attention?”

  “No. I love the money.”

  “That’s it? You love the money? You don’t love the fame and adulation? The clothes? The way you look?”

  “No. I love the money I get for doing it. I don’t particularly like doing it. I get sick of the attention. I hate the paparazzi and detest the people who think they know me because I’m in a few magazines, or the perverts who like to flash my naked pictures.”

  “Why did you take the nude pictures?”

  “Money. Does it bother you I did?”

  Sarah tilted her head, and nodded. “Yes, it does. I’d never do that.”

  Kelly shrugged. “It bothers a lot of people. So what? They propelled my career to a level of fame I wouldn’t have gotten to without them. I needed the exposure. I wanted to be sought after, not seeking work.”

  “Everything comes down to money for you, doesn’t it? I mean, even selling your body for it.”

  “Yes, everything in my career has come down to money. Enough money and I’d do a shoot, naked, topless, skimpy lingerie or swim-suit, it didn’t matter. I don’t have to anymore though. I’m famous enough, I decide my work.”

  “How can you be so cold about it? How did you do it?”

  “How did I do it? I don’t know. I guess I just took my clothes off. When I started, I was eighteen, my sister was a bartender, and on track to be just like my mom. I saw myself becoming a third wheel in the sick cycle we had going on there. So I left Portland, left Cassie, and went to L.A., where I walked into some sleazy modeling agency. I’ve long since dumped it, but that’s where I got started. There was little I’d turn down. My portfolio grew, my name caught on, my look caught on, and it kept growing. I made some money. I eventually made a lot of money. And yeah, that’s what it was all about for me.”

  “Don’t you get lonely? Don’t you ever want more?”

  “More? Like what?”

  “Like satisfaction from your job. Pride in your work, your finished product? In your lifestyle? Don’t you want to do some good with that fame of yours? Don’t you want more than lots of money?”

  “No. I have not been looking for any of those things. Just money. Security. Financial independence.”

  “I don’t believe you. You love your sister. You love Tim. If you were totally cold, you’d ignore this town, and make them come to you. You wouldn’t try so hard to be part of their lives. And you wouldn’t have bothered to ask me here to lunch.”

  Kelly looked away from Sarah, staring out the storefront windows as tourists browsed the sidewalk. “I told you I know nobody here. And as you saw, nobody will approach me. And with Cassie getting married, it made me realize I might need to make a few friends. So why not you?”

  “Do you ever do that? Let anyone get to know you?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Why me?”

  “I like you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “You’re so out there with who you are. You don’t care what anyone thinks, you know exactly who you are and that’s that for you.”

  Sarah leaned back in the booth. “You know, you just might be likeable, which your sister keeps telling me. But well, there was so much stuff written about you, that I thought Cassie was a tad prejudiced.”

  “She is. But still, maybe you could give me a chance. Naked pictures notwithstanding, I’m not all that bad.”

  Sarah grinned. “I wouldn’t decide about you based on those pictures.”

  “Good. Because those aren’t me. Now do you think it’s okay to eat in front of me?”

  Sarah grinned as they made a weary truce. “Okay, sure. Then we’re going to walk the boardwalk, like I do every day. Some of us aren’t born with your blessed metabolism. And that’s what I do to stay looking this way.”

  “Deal.” Kelly grinned. Tim joined them after talking Kelly into a double scoop ice cream cone. Then they walked in the pleasant sunshine. Sarah asked a lot of questions about Kelly’s life, and more importantly, her clothes. In turn, Kelly learned that Sarah had a BA in business administration from the University of Oregon, which she promptly brought back to Seaclusion. Her parents bought the shop on the corner and basically gave it to Sarah to run. She set out to make it what it was today: a chic, stylish, high-end clothing shop that thrived in the small tourist community.

  “Doesn’t it scare you?” Kelly asked, as they neared the shop after the mile-long walk on the boardwalk.

  “What?”

  “Being so settled at the age of, what are you? Twenty-four? Having such a career, in the small town you grew up in?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, it was fun to get away for college, but this is home. My parents are here, along with my younger brother. Why would I live anywhere else? What has any other place got that this place doesn’t? And I love the shop. I look forward to the challenge of it every single day. I have my own apartment over the shop and a thriving life. I’m involved in all the civic activities to get tourists here. I have friends and I love the ocean. Why would that scare me?”

  “You don’t wonder if you’ve settled? Missed out on things?”

  “Missed out on what? Being lonely? No way is there anywhere else that could be home for me.”

  What would that be like, to be so certain of your life, of your place in the world, of the life you’d chosen? To feel so connected to a home. There was no place on earth Kelly was physically connected to. She owned two condos and could buy as many more. But neither of them was anything other than a hotel room to her. She regarded Sarah and admired her. So young, and she’d already found her niche.

  They agreed to meet the next afternoon for lunch again, to Kelly’s surprise. She took Tim home, feeling light of heart, and a little dorky with how excited she was to meet Sarah tomorrow. Maybe she had succeeded in making an honest-to-God friend, a friend beyond her sister, who, by accident of birth, was compelled to like her.

  Chapter Five

  When Luke came home, Kelly was attempting to cook dinner. She smiled a greeting, feeling a contentment she hadn’t expected after a day spent taking care of Tim, meeting Sarah, and doing some of the list of chores Cassie had assigned, including dinner. He looked at her wearily when she told him to sit down. He eyed the steak and corn on the cob she’d managed to grill on the barbeque as though he wondered if she’d poisoned him. Finally, he took a bite and after deciding it wasn’t lethal, he dug into it with gusto. Tim did, too, between his narrations of his day’s episodes to Luke. Kelly smiled with satisfaction. She liked this.

  The next day was more of the same for her. She tackled the laundry that had built up and went into Luke’s room to search for his. She was surprised to find the military precision in which Luke kept his things. Everything had a place, and nothing was out of its place. There was no clutter, and an austerity to the room that left a person wondering if anyone actually lived there. Hadn’t Luke lived in this house for four or five years? It looked like Luke Tyler had never even spent the night here. There was no personality, no photographs, no trace of color.

  Luke’s room was a far cry from the messy, drop-it-where-it-lands condition that Kelly kept hers in. She attributed it to laziness, which arose from having a housekeeper. But despite all that, at least, her room looked lived in.

  Finding Luke’s laundry hamper, she grabbed what was in it and added it to Tim’s. After sending Tim to play his video game after lunch, Kelly finally finished drying the laundry. She folded and separated it, according to where in the house it was destined to go. She put Tim’s and her stuff away, and then stared at Luke’s.

  He’d appreciate it, wouldn’t he? If she went into his room and put his freshly laundered clothes away? After all, she was only doing it to be nice to him, so how could he mind?

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out where laundry went. She picked up the pile and stacked it neatly in the laundry basket as she made her way to his ro
om. She began looking through his drawers to find out what went where. Just as she’d expected the dresser was as neat and orderly as the rest of the room. Boxers in the top drawer, socks the next, clean t-shirts and so on. She’d give Luke credit: he made it easy to put things away.

  When she yanked out the last drawer, she found them. Luke’s life. Luke’s color. Luke’s personality, all tucked neatly into the bottom drawer of his dresser.

  There was a pile of framed photos, and on top was a smiling brunette, young and healthy looking. She had kind-looking brown eyes and a wide smile that, though friendly, kept her from being pretty. Her smile was too toothy, too friendly, almost too much.

  It was Shelly.

  How had she never noticed there weren’t any pictures of Shelly around the house? Or even in Luke’s personal space. Why didn’t he keep pictures out of his dead wife? Shouldn’t every memento and photo be cherished and displayed? Why did Luke have them stacked in the bottom of his dresser, as if they meant no more to him than his socks? It made no sense. Shelly had died going on three years ago. Kelly could understand not being able to look at pictures of Shelly at first, but three years later?

  She should stop looking through the drawer. There was no question about that. But she didn’t. She kept looking. She couldn’t remember ever caring about anyone else’s business besides her sister’s. The less she knew about people, the less she had to deal with them. It was her motto in life, how she survived L.A. and a cutthroat business. She didn’t care to really know anyone, so passion toward them never swayed her reaction to them. But this, and Luke, were suddenly too much temptation to resist.

  Kelly found their wedding picture, now seven years old. Luke would have been just twenty-seven years old. He was far handsomer than Shelly was pretty. But the love they so obviously shared seemed to melt off the photo. Luke beamed. Yes, actually beamed with happiness as he smiled on his wedding day. And after. Kelly found snapshots tossed carelessly among the framed pictures. All were of Shelly. Shelly and Luke, Shelly and her family, Shelly and Luke’s family. There were birthday and Christmas shots, and every shot in between that was requisite of a happy couple.

  Kelly studied the woman that Luke so loved. What was she like? Shelly was short and slightly overweight. Yet her smile was enough to make Kelly smile back at her. It must have been electric to see in person. What must Shelly have felt like marrying Luke Tyler? He was all muscle, a former baseball player at college. He was into all sports and still played them on rec leagues, as well as coaching the high school football team. This Luke smiling next to Shelly wasn’t one Kelly had ever seen. He was carefree, happy, with the look of a hot, young life-guard on the beach or the star of a football team. And yet he was so obviously in love with this woman, who at first glance, didn’t look all that special. But as Kelly looked through the stacks of pictures, Shelly became more alive to her. She was always touching Luke’s hands, his arms, smiling up at him, talking to him, and he back at her. They so obviously adored each other. What would that be like?

  Kelly never had any man look at her the way that small, plump, smiling Shelly Novac-Tyler had Luke looking at her.

  The most unsettling shot was of Shelly holding her shirt tightly over her stomach to reveal the slight bulge where Luke’s and her baby grew. The picture couldn’t have been taken too long before she and the baby were hit by an elderly driver who was driving on the wrong side of the road. They were both killed instantly.

  Kelly dropped the picture, feeling as if it had turned to acid in her hands. It was one thing to picture what Luke had lived and lost, and a whole different story to look at the picture of a wife and mother-to-be. Good God, how could she ever have even joked with Luke? What right did she have to be so cocky toward him? So callous with his feelings?

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Kelly’s spine snapped to attention as the voice behind her cut through her drifting, sad reflections. Kelly wanted to melt into the carpet rather than face Luke’s wrath at her for mooning over his private things. How dare she?

  Finally, she turned and met his blue eyes. His fierce gaze said he wanted to come across the room and drown her, then cut her up and throw her into the ocean, which she deserved.

  “I was putting away laundry.” Her voice sounded weak and pathetic, even to her.

  “And?”

  His question was obvious: how had she ended up with his pictures spread around her?

  “And I guess it’s obvious I came across your pictures. I swear, I wasn’t snooping on purpose. I had this noble idea of doing your laundry. I was truly just putting your clean clothes away as a nice gesture. That’s really what I intended, when I opened this drawer and found these. And before you pop your main artery at me, I know I shouldn’t have looked any farther. I know I should have shut the drawer and walked out of your room. But I didn’t, and now I’m truly sorry. Not because you caught me, but because I finally see what you lost. I see her face and I see you with her, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more sensitive toward you. More kind. I didn’t really understand until just this moment what you lost.”

  She finished in a gush of air as she drew herself to her full height, like a young foal, getting onto her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said again, as he stared at her in icy silence, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth tightening and gaze narrowing.

  He suddenly turned and strode out of his room. Kelly blinked. That was it? Where was the storm of anger at her? Why wasn’t he reaming her ass out, as she deserved? Walking out seemed somehow worse. Kelly’s heart turned in her chest. What did Luke’s reaction mean?

  There was a flash of color out the back window. Luke was crossing the trail over the sand dunes.

  She ran after him. At the beach, she expected to keep running but stopped up short when she found Luke sitting on a piece of driftwood.

  His profile was toward her, his gaze locked on the water.

  Kelly paused and wondered what to do. He seemed lost in his own world.

  “Luke?” she asked as she sat down next to him and fixed her eyes on his face. He was silent for so long, she wondered if he was going to ignore her until she gave up and left the beach.

  “I’m sorry. Please say something.”

  “Say what? It’s okay that you pawed through my things? Things you had no business looking at? You never think before you do things, and then everyone around you is supposed to forgive and forget whatever transgression you’ve committed. Why would you think that I’d react like that? Like everyone else does? Given our history, you had to know that isn’t me. And especially with my personal stuff.”

  “You’re wrong. This time, I did think before I acted, and I did it anyway. I wanted to see her. Your wife. For some reason I felt compelled to look at her.”

  “Don’t you dare act as if you had a noble reason for what you did.”

  “What’s the big secret? Why are all those pictures hidden in a bottom drawer? Just to see a picture of your wife, why do I have to snoop to see one? Why don’t you have anything out of her? I shouldn’t have done what I did, but maybe you shouldn’t hide her like she’s some kind of dirty secret.”

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you judge what you don’t know anything about.”

  “Maybe that’s part of your problem; you can’t even look at her, can you?”

  “I don’t need a stupid picture to remind me of my wife. And the only problem I have is she’s dead.”

  “I didn’t mean you had a problem. I meant maybe if you talked about her, looked at her, and had her picture out, maybe you…”

  “I could what? Feel better?”

  She whipped her head back. His tone was lethal. “Maybe yes. No one really talks about Shelly, other than the whispered, ‘How is Luke doing?’ No one has pictures around, even your mother. Your family seems afraid to bring her up, like they’ll remind you of her. I suspect there isn’t a moment you’re not thinking of her, so talking about her, seeing her, isn’t going to suddenly make you sadder t
han you already are. Maybe if you made her part of your life still, shared her and your grief, maybe it wouldn’t be so isolating.”

  He looked at her sharply.

  “I saw it at the wedding. Nobody really knows, do they? What you still feel? You pretend to be so fine, people have finally started to believe you. Even your mother. You have a whole network of family that loves you, and would be there for you. You don’t need to protect them from your grief, from your sadness. Share it with them.”

  “You got all this from some pictures in my dresser drawer?”

  “No. It just finally all clicked. What I saw at the wedding, the smiles and perfect words you used to reassure anyone and everyone that you were fine. Just fine. Luke Tyler is doing great. Coping, being the nice guy he’s always been. But you’re not that guy in those pictures anymore, are you? It’s all an act to make everyone leave you the hell alone.”

  “If you’re so sure about this, why don’t you leave me the hell alone?”

  “Because it’s no way to live.”

  Luke blew out a long breath. “Look, I get it. You’d probably buy my family from me to have a family. You and Cassie grew up so isolated that you can’t understand how anyone wouldn’t relish having a large, close family. But for this, nothing helps. I can’t make anyone really understand what this is like. There is nothing they can do for me. The pain it would cause them isn’t worth the little benefits I’d get. There’s nothing you or anyone else can do for me.”

  “I can sit here with you.”

  He cocked his head and frowned. “Why? What do you think that will do?”

  “Maybe give you twenty minutes where you don’t feel as if you’ve fallen to the dark side of the moon and no one’s noticed.”

  His mouth flattened. He stared long and hard at her before he turned toward the water.

  She waited. And waited.

  Finally he said, “All right, you can sit here with me.”

  She nodded in satisfaction and looked at him from the corners of her eyes. “I am sorry.”