"Ha," she said, choosing to ignore that I'd intended it as a compliment. "You should talk. You weren't exactly a pleasure to be around."
"You still followed me around though. I couldn't have been that bad."
"Oh, you were that bad, all right." Her cheeks were getting red. "I used to follow you around to make sure you didn't break your neck. Seriously, you were always doing stupid things. I felt like no one was watching you."
"That's because no one was watching me."
My mother had passed away, and after that, my father mostly left me alone. Not because he didn't care—I knew he did. But it was hard to be a hands-on single parent and run a technology empire. I'd had nannies then a stepmother, but no one could keep me in line. I remembered my teenage years as a red period. I'd felt out of control and angry all the time, which I masked by getting smashed.
"Lo, I didn't know you cared." My tone was sarcastic, but I was actually curious.
She shot me a look, her brow furrowed. "I… cared. I mean, I didn't want you to end up dead." She jutted out her chin. "That's all."
"Well, if that's all." I smiled at her. "Sorry I closed all your books on you without your bookmarks."
I laughed at the memory, but Lowell looked as if she was trying to practice yoga breathing while scrunching her hands into fists. Apparently I still got under her skin.
"Let's just concentrate on what we're doing," she snapped, back to business. "We have this one event. We're here to shop for sneakers and have our pictures taken. It's good press for the designer and the celebrities who show up. All the proceeds from the event go to the local animal shelter."
"This'll be a piece of cake. I look great in photos."
She sighed, her brow still furrowed. "They're going to ask us questions too." She sounded as if she was talking to a first-grader. "You're going to say you're Kyle Jordan. That's the only thing you're going to say. I'll do the rest of the talking."
She was insulting me, but for some reason, I wasn't offended. I was only amused. The idea of what we were actually about to do was sinking in, and I realized how crazy it was.
"What else are you going to tell them?" I asked.
"That you're my boyfriend… that you're from New York… and that we're madly in love." The last part came out so muffled, I almost couldn't hear her.
"Huh? What was that?"
She groaned. "We have to play this up. All the way up. We have to act like we're nuts about each other. It has to be a big deal." She turned to me. "By the way, no one knows you're an escort except for my best friend, Tori. She's also my personal assistant. She's the one who let the press know we're going to be here tonight."
"I got it." I sat up and straightened the collar on my shirt. "We're a big deal."
"That's right. And no talking."
I pretended to zip my lips but then immediately said, "What sort of work should Kyle Jordan do? I'm guessing being an escort's not gonna cut it."
She fidgeted. Nervous energy rolled off her in waves. "I don't know. Any ideas? It shouldn't be flashy. It has to be under the radar so no one can find out you don't exist."
"I'll just say I'm in consulting. SEO or something." I shrugged. "Nobody knows how to talk about that." Including me. But I had faith in my ability to bullshit.
"That works." Lowell sounded mildly impressed.
"So"—I threw my arm around her shoulder—"if we're in love, we better act like it."
"Knock it off!" Lo ducked out from under my arm and pressed herself against the opposite side of the car.
I fake-pouted. "Well, are we in love or aren't we?"
She grimaced and adjusted her dress, making sure that not an ounce of cleavage was showing. "We're in love, all right. And you can put your arm around me—at the event. I'm an actress, remember? I can put on a show when I have to. Not until then."
"Fine. Your rules, your show."
"That's right," Lo said, and her voice wobbled a little.
I looked out the window; we were almost there. "Are you nervous? You seem a little anxious."