6
The rest of the day passed quickly, in a blur of horses, of food—most of which I even ate—and of aching arms from helping in all manner of ranch work.
It ruined my manicure.
My hair.
The makeup I’d carefully applied before coming down to breakfast.
And I loved it.
The thin coating of dirt covering my body. The slight pinkness to my cheeks thanks to the sunshine and exertion. The aches in parts of my body even the city’s best trainer couldn’t reach.
I loved every part about this day, as it was the best one in recorded memory.
I’d studiously avoided Duke the entire day after the hat incident, but he was always hovering someplace. Watching. I didn’t know if he was expecting someone to come and try to murder me or he didn’t trust me with his family. Maybe both. But I didn’t look in his direction, especially because of the cowboy hat and the entire look. It really worked for him. That, and I didn’t need the dislike in his gaze to ruin my perfect day.
To ruin my act.
I was playing his girlfriend, the one that his family welcomed quickly, joked with easily, and treated me with respect and kindness.
I learned that his father didn’t speak much, but had a dry sense of humor and a kind heart. His brother was cheeky, but with sad eyes and a broken heart. His mother was a mix of soft and hard. She worked alongside the men, and she was kind to me but I had no doubt that if she thought I’d broken Duke’s heart, she’d turn nasty for her son in an instant. I loved that about her.
And Harriet.
Well, she was one of the most interesting people I’d ever met, which was saying something. My career had sent me all over the world, working with some of the most brilliant, eccentric and unique people in the industry. Most of them were a nightmare to be around, of course.
Harriet was not a nightmare to be around. She was warm, insane, funny, and I decided I wanted to be her when I grew up.
I decided that I wanted this family, even after one day with them. I wanted this to be real. And of course, I’d wanted Duke since the first moment I’d seen him. My story hadn’t been an act.
I could purchase anything money could buy, though I’d never be able to have this. Denial worked best, so I did my best not to let that voice scream at me from the depths of my soul.
Around Harriet, it was little more than a whisper.
I’d showered off the dirt of the day, as much as I wanted to let it sink into my bloodstream. I’d reapplied a fresh coat of makeup, because even the best day with the best people wouldn’t change my need for the mask, nor change years of dysfunction.
I’d dressed in black slacks and a black tank. Maybe a little dressy for the family dinner that Anna wouldn’t let me help with, but Harriet seemed to approve, since it seemed she didn’t give a shit about the fact we were on a ranch and dressed like she was about to go out for dinner in New York.
Everyone else was out doing things so it was the two of us enjoying cocktail hour in the house’s amazing living room. It was vast. High-ceilinged. Exposed wood. Tan leather sofas covered in amazing throws and pillows. A giant fireplace. Bookshelves reaching the ceiling. Photos everywhere. Huge windows facing the ranch.
Harriet and I sat in armchairs that faced the window, enjoying the view and the company. Well, that was me at least. Harriet was most likely used to the view, since she’d been born here. That this ranch had been in Duke’s family for generations impressed the heck out of me. I ached to google the history of it, but my phone had been confiscated and Duke had warned me against any kind of Internet surfing.
I wondered if the case had entered the news-cycle yet. Duke said that the attorney’s office was trying their best to keep me anonymous but I wasn’t sure how long that would last. Even with the best security company in the city—and arguably the country—I didn’t like my odds. If Kitsch was as bad as everyone was saying, I didn’t think I’d stay anonymous for long. And despite my ignorance on the man, I figured that Duke wouldn’t have taken the drastic measure of constructing this lie and deceiving his family if it weren’t vital.
The lie sat heavily in the bottom of my stomach like a stone, despite being practiced at deceit. My career was founded on it. It was part and parcel of the job and the overall politics of Hollywood. You didn’t get to where I was by being honest and good.