Finally, Robin makes an excuse to leave Dove for a moment. He heads outside to take a phone call in the street, and I smirk. He's so weak. That Elise woman needs putting in her place and some bruises to go along with it. I watch him argue on the phone with her before he heads back inside and feeds Dove some bullshit lie neither of them believes.
It's interesting how I can imagine their conversations going without ever hearing them. My resolve to bug Dove's house strengthens. I want more of her voice. I want more of her.
An hour later, a shiny, custom-color bubblegum pink Porsche pulls into the street, and I smirk to myself, halfway through my sixth cigarette since I got here. This'll be fucking good.
Elise gets out of the car, her yapping Yorkshire terrier barking from the safety of her Louis Vuitton handbag at every-fucking-thing they pass. Robin bought the dog for her a few weeks ago, and she complained because it wasn't a more expensive breed. Fucking bitch.
It's weird, knowing so much about people who don't even know I exist. Well, I suppose they do, they just think I'm long-fucking-gone.
Dove relishes in the belief that I died years ago. I bet she's shed some tears over my supposed death, though. After all, she was fucking obsessed with me back then, up until I carved her pretty face.
Sometimes I regret doing it. Not because of the scar, but because I frightened her off. It took me fucking years to realize Dove was it for me. Years after being blind-fucking-sided by my bastard twin brother and his slut bride. June Miller, née Wildfox, was never the one for me. But her former mini me is.
I watch Elise press the doorbell down for so long she nearly breaks one of her talons. I lean back against the wall of the alley and smirk. This ought to be fucking good.
Chapter 3
Dove
"Hey, kid."
"Robin!" I let him kiss my cheek and step aside so he can follow me into the apartment. "You're late. What happened?"
"Elise happened," he says. "I had to walk Pepper for her."
I groan. That freaking yappy little dog is the bane of my existence, but I choose not to mention it, focusing on something else instead of picking a fight the first few minutes my brother is here. I ignore the bag of takeout he brought and focus on the half-dead plant in his hand. "This for me?"
"If you can save it." Robin sets the food down on the counter and we inspect the plant together. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Every plant I get dies. And even worse, it's taking me less and less time to kill them."
"Good thing you have me," I grin, reaching for my watering can of tepid water and carefully pouring some into the plant’s cute cat-shaped planter. "I'll have it back to life in no time. You gonna let me keep this one too?"
"Why not?" Robin laughs. "It's not like you need another plant, but at least it won't instantly die in my house."
He's right. My house is like a jungle. I can't resist a pretty plant, and I somehow always come back with something new, leafy and green when I leave home. Even if I don't, Robin supplies me with his castoffs more often than not. At this point, I'm pretty sure he's killing them on purpose so he can cheer me up with a new addition every week.
"So?" he asks, the excitement clear in his voice as we settle on the sofa in the living room. "How did the shoot go? You didn't say anything earlier."
"I wanted to tell you in person." I pick up the TV remote and click on play and one of our favorite shows starts to play out on the screen. We both know it by heart now. Half of the time we spend together is just quoting the freaking show to one another. "It went well, I think."
Robin reaches for the remote and pauses the show. He's always afraid he'll miss something if we talk while we watch it, even though we've both seen every episode a thousand times. "Well, tell me everything. I got a text from Katya. She said the photographer was really impressed with you."
I laugh out loud. Katya, one of my brother's ex-girlfriends, whom he stayed in touch with – much to Elise's dismay – was the hairstylist on set. She's the one who told Robin that Raphael was looking for unique models. And then Robin wouldn't leave me alone for weeks, begging me to go through with it. He thought it would be good for me, and as hesitant as I was about the whole thing, it ended up working out.
"Well, first of all," I start, narrowing my eyes at him. "You didn't tell me it was a nude shoot."