City of Angels Page 3

  I don't want to stare after her like some helpless puppy, devastated that his owner has to go to work and leave him. But I do stare. I hope my expression is aloof, but I wouldn't bet on it.

  I take in the work of pure art that is Chloe Campbell. Her blond-brown curls bob as she walks. Her hips sway in a way that makes my insides twist. And her skin. She always has this healthy glow like she's come straight from someplace warm where she got a tan. But it isn't a tan. Her grandfather is black South African.

  Her friends ignore me too and follow her back to their table.

  I'm surprised at Gina. She grew up attending my dad's church. We never really talked much, but we've known each other since we were kids. But that's girls. If their friend doesn't like you, they don't like you either.

  Gina should at least say hi, though. She's just acted like she doesn't even know me.

  I'm totally distracted as I talk to a few other people. All my attention is on Chloe and the way she just snubbed me.

  When Gina goes to the back of the room to get a glass of juice, I excuse myself from the girl in weird pantyhose who's telling me how nice my eyes are, and go to the refreshment table.

  Gina is filling a glass with some kind of tropical fruit blend.

  "Hey," I say.

  She glances over her shoulder at me and then her gaze slants across the room to Chloe. "Hey," she replies.

  "What has Chloe been saying about me?" I don't know why I'm asking. Do I seriously want to know how she's been badmouthing me to her friends?

  Gina purses her lips. "I can't tell you anything. Sorry."

  "Isn't she interested in me anymore?"

  "I can't answer that question, Colby. If you really want to know, you should ask her yourself."

  Chloe and Leah stand up from their table just then and begin to head over. Then they notice me. They stop and act like they were never heading over and just stand there, talking.

  I walk away from the drinks table and immediately they go over to join Gina.

  It's so high school and irritating.

  I walk back to the table while Chloe is still pouring a drink.

  "Hey, Chloe."

  She looks up and then the glass slips from her hands. It shatters loudly on the floor tiles and Chloe's whole face instantly turns a deep shade of red.

  She immediately drops to the floor and is about to pick up a piece of glass when Tiwa, one of the other contestants, comes over and grabs her wrist. "Don't try to pick up broken glass," she says. "I'm sure someone will come and clean it up."

  Chloe nods quickly. Her face is still bright red.

  I wonder whether she dropped the glass simply because she was startled, or if I make her nervous.

  Is it pathetic that I hope it's the latter?

  Tiwa goes to get someone to clean up the mess. Chloe wipes her hands with a paper towel. She looks like she's going to walk away. I reach out and take her hand.

  She snatches her hand away.

  The action sends a stab through my heart. She couldn't have hurt me more if she'd slapped me across the face.

  Still, I force a smile. "So you decided to do the show?"

  "I did," she replies in clipped tones. She gives me a tight smile and then walks away.

  I'm stunned by her coldness.

  Because I must be a sucker for pain, I think of how she kissed me last week. The first time was on Tuesday, after the Stanley B. Rowland event. The second was on Wednesday in Starbucks. The third was on Friday, in my car.

  I think of the adoring way she looked at me whenever we were together.

  I think of how she told me she loves me.

  Forget it, I tell myself. She's a self-righteous, judgmental, goody-two-shoes who I should have no interest in.

  Just then, my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. I dig it out, welcoming the diversion. It's a number that isn't stored on my phone. I would usually ignore such a call, but any distraction will do right now.

  "Hello?"

  "Is that Colby Carter?" a voice asks.

  I frown. "Who is this?"

  "Is that Colby Carter?" the voice demands.

  I'm about to hang up when the man continues. "This is Timothy."

  Timothy? I don't know anybody called Timothy. Except…

  I glance across the room at Chloe. Wasn't her fiancé's name Timothy?

  I walk to a corner of the room. "Timothy?" I ask, lowering my voice.

  "Yes," the man replies. "Chloe's ex-fiancé."

  My head snaps in Chloe's direction. I remember the night she and I were supposed to have a date at The Blue Room. When I arrived, another guy was sitting at the table with her. He was her fiancé. He'd come all the way from Ellenwood, Georgia, to surprise her. I covered for her, told the dude we were just friends. But she broke up with him anyway.

  I wonder how he got my number and why he's calling me.

  "Colby?" Timothy asks.

  "What?"

  "I want to know what's going on between you and Chloe."

  I'm incredulous. Is this guy for real?

  "She broke up with me," he continues, "but I just want to know whether she was seeing you before we broke up. I want to know what happened."

  I covered for Chloe the night Timothy almost busted us, and I'm about to cover for her again, but just then, she glances at me from across the room. When she sees me looking at her, she gets this sour look in her eyes that gets my back up.

  I head to the door and walk out of the room. I let the door slam behind me. Chloe is treating me like dirt just because she knows what I do for a living. Treating me like I'm beneath her.

  "We kissed," I tell Timothy. "She told me she finds you boring and that she never loved you. She said her mom and nana think you're perfect, but she's not interested. She was with you only because of them, but what she really wanted was to be with me."

  Timothy is silent.

  It dawns on me that, while I'm being petty, I'm probably driving a stake through this guy's heart.

  But from all Chloe told me about him, he's a jerk.

  Still, guilt floods me.

  I know how this guy feels. Every girl I've been with cheated on me. I know how painful that is. I know how it hurts.

  "Anything else?" Timothy asks.

  I blurt out more things that Chloe told me. Stuff about how he doesn't support her passion for acting and neither do her mom and nana.

  "How long were you together?" Timothy asks. His voice is quiet.

  "We were never together," I tell him. "We were just kind of seeing each other."

  I should tell him it only lasted seven days and that it was only a week ago, but maybe I want him to think that what Chloe and I had was more than what it was. Maybe, because I'm hurting, I want other people to hurt too.

  The line goes dead.

  I jam my phone back into my pocket as I re-enter the room.

  I feel bad when I look at Chloe. But then, my guilt turns into smugness when she walks past me five minutes later and totally ignores me again.

  I'm glad I told Timothy the truth.

  Chapter 4 - Chloe

  The Saints and Sinners staff give us information about the mansion we'll be living in for a month in LA and show us pictures of the other contestants that we haven't met yet. There are all kinds of bizarre people that they've recruited as sinners including a mafia chick. Mafia!

  The saints include a Buddhist monk, a Christian missionary and an environmental activist.

  I ask Krista what leads to eviction and how they'll judge which saints have become sinners, and vice versa. I'm hoping that, being the casting director, she'll know more and will have the authority to tell us.

  Krista looks at her assistant, a man in the tightest jeggings I've ever seen. He gives her a demure smile. I didn't think I would ever describe a guy's smile as demure but this dude has way more feminine mystique than I do.

  "My lips are sealed," Krista says.

  Over the next thirty minutes, flight details are given out along with in
formation about the hotel we'll be staying at in LA while we promote the show. We'll promote the show for just over a week before entering the Saints and Sinners mansion.

  Afterward, I leave with Gina and Leah with the same questions I had when I arrived. Quin is still networking with the other agents.

  We pile into Gina's car. Leah rides up front.

  Leah and I are always careful to conserve gas and even take turns giving each other rides to college, but Gina has no such concerns about money so we rode with her.

  "Colby asked me whether you still like him," Gina says as she drives.

  There's a jolt in my heart. "What did you say?"

  "I told him he'd have to ask you himself."

  "You should have said no."

  Gina glances at me in the rearview mirror. "Would that have been the truth?"

  "Of course," I reply. "I'm not interested in him anymore."

  Leah clears her throat loudly.

  Gina's lips twitch.

  "What?" I ask.

  "Nothing," they chorus.

  I glare at the backs of their heads. "Tell me, because I'm missing the joke here."

  "Oh, it's just the way you smashed that glass when Colby came over to talk to you," Leah says.

  My cheeks grow warm. "He startled me, that's all."

  "Of course," Gina says.

  "Listen, girls," I say. "You both know why I can't be with Colby, so teasing me about him isn't helpful. I'm trying to get closer to God. It would be nice if my friends were supportive of that instead of teasing me about an unsuitable man. You two should be helping me stay strong."

  Gina's and Leah's smiles vanish.

  A few awkward silent moments pass. Then Gina sighs. "In an ideal world, Colby would stop being a porn star and get radically saved. Then you and he would get married and have gorgeous, little babies. But this isn't an ideal world, so God help you when you're cooped up in that Saints and Sinners mansion with him for a month."

  When Gina pulls up outside our house almost forty minutes later, my mom is standing on our doorstep.

  I blink, certain that I'm dreaming.

  Leah lets out a shocked gasp and glances back at me.

  Gina switches off the engine and drums her fingers on the steering wheel. "Uh oh," she murmurs.

  So my mom must actually be there. I'm not just hallucinating.

  Dread fills my heart like gravel pouring into a dumpster. It seeps through my veins, coarse and gritty.

  What is she doing here?

  A surprise visit from your mom should be a happy occasion, but my heart has sunk to the pit of my stomach like a lead weight.

  Gina doesn't really talk to her parents, but if her mom showed up, she'd be cool with it. She'd be here to give her money, or food.

  Leah would collapse if her mom showed up because her mom died when she was very young.

  I realize my mind is wandering in a pretty bizarre direction.

  I'm still frozen to my seat. I stare through the window at my mom. She's staring back, her blond hair fluttering and a hard look in her blue eyes.

  She's never been to see me here. She's never been interested in how I'm coping with my college tuition and rent. In fact, she's never given me any money since I started college, unless it was Christmas or my birthday.

  I want to believe she's here just to check on me, but I know that isn't the case. She's holding no bag that I could tell myself contains a home-cooked meal that she's brought for me.

  There's a taxi waiting at the curb. If she's told the taxi to wait, that must mean she isn't going to stay long. Or maybe, now that I'm here, she'll tell the cabbie he can leave.

  Gina and Leah are looking back at me, giving me worried looks.

  I force myself to reach for the door handle and get out of the car. I'm thankful that my friends stay inside the car. I don't want them to hear whatever Mom is going to say. From experience, I know she's going to talk to me like I'm seven years old and I'm going to be totally spineless and take it, and it's all going to be really embarrassing.

  "Hey, Mom." I want to sound happy to see her, which should be a breeze for me since I'm an actress. But I'm not that good an actress.

  I'm not happy to see her.

  Try terrified or ashamed.

  I've been blocking hers and Nana's numbers for a week. I can hardly look her in the eyes.

  Tears are already building behind my eyes. What made me think I could avoid them? What made me think they would let me off so easily?

  Mom doesn't reply to my greeting. She holds up her cell phone. On the screen is a picture of Colby.

  I almost die right there and then.

  "Who is this?" Mom asks. Her voice is soft, but I'm not fooled. She must be seething with anger.

  I have no idea how she's gotten a picture of Colby, or how she's linked him with me.

  Fear is piling up in my gut like a mountain of packed dirt and debris.

  I swallow past a lump in my throat. "A friend."

  "Timothy told me you were with him the night he showed up here last week."

  The tears in my eyes rush forward but I manage to keep them from falling. "He's just a friend. I don't even really talk to him anymore."

  "Tell me the truth, Chloe." Mom's blue eyes narrow. "I know more than you think. If you lie to me—"

  "He was just a friend."

  "So you didn't kiss him? You didn't tell him that Timothy is boring and you don't like him but your mom and nana think he's perfect? You didn't tell him your mom and nana don't understand your desire to act and that you want to stay here in Washington and never come home?"

  I'm shocked into silence. How would Mom know all this?

  Mom gives me a brittle smile. "Well, you are coming home, Chloe. You're coming home right now. And depending on what your Nana and I decide, you may not be returning to Washington."

  I feel sick to my stomach. Can Mom and Nana seriously stop me from returning to college?

  I know the answer to that question. They can. I always obey them.

  "Did you kiss this man?" Mom asks pointing to Colby on her cell phone.

  The tears I'm holding back begin to tumble from my eyes. I nod as I wipe my cheeks.

  Mom gives me a look that makes me want to vanish into nothing.

  I feel horrible. I was supposed to be saving my first kiss. Mom and I have talked about that for as long as I can remember. I'm never supposed to kiss anybody or sleep with anybody until I do those things with my husband on our wedding night. She'll be so disappointed in me.

  Mom lowers her cell phone. "He's a porn star."

  Those words coming from my mom's lips make me feel excruciatingly embarrassed. It's one thing discussing that with Gina and Leah, but with my mom? I just want to die. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing. My gaze is on the ground.

  "Timothy is a pastor. But you prefer a porn star?"

  Her tone makes me feel completely stupid.

  "You think you know better than everybody else, don't you?" Mom says. "You think you know how to run your life. You don't need my advice. You know better than me. You know better than your grandmother. You know better than the whole world and God Himself."

  I shake my head, but I can't speak.

  "Did you sleep with this man?"

  "No," I whisper.

  "Don't you dare lie to me." Mom's voice has lowered to a whisper too. "There are ways of checking."

  The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies. I wouldn't put it past Mom and Nana to drag me down to some medical center and have me checked.

  I drag my gaze from the ground and make myself look her in the eyes. "I promise you I didn't."

  "Why should I believe you?" Mom demands. "Who else have you been with?"

  "Nobody—"

  "How many other men have you been cavorting around with while your grandmother, your fiancé, and I think you're simply out here attending college?"

  "Nobody." My throat is so tight I can hardly get my words out. "I have slept with a
bsolutely nobody."

  Mom gives me a disgusted look. "Right. So you've just been kissing a bunch of people."

  I shake my head. "No. Colby was the first. That's the honest truth. I promise you he was the first. He's the only man I've ever kissed."

  "So you wasted your first kiss on a porn star."

  Once again, I feel stupid. Beyond stupid.

  "A man who sleeps with other women on camera for money," Mom says as though I don't know what a porn star is. "A man who will never be your husband."

  "I'm sorry. I've already prayed about it and—"

  "You've prayed about it? That's good. But it doesn't change what you've done. It doesn't change the fact that you've kissed somebody and your husband will not be the first man you kiss. God's forgiveness doesn't change the facts. At least you're still a virgin."

  "I am," I whisper.

  Mom opens her purse and drops her cell phone aside. "Nana is beside herself. Her blood pressure is through the roof. Timothy is upset. We're going home right now."

  She stalks over to the taxi waiting at the curb. She opens the door to the back seat and then looks back at me and waits.

  I hesitate for a moment. What will happen if I refuse to go?

  My friends are still in Gina's car, watching all this unfold. I can't look at them. I don't want to see the pity in Leah's eyes. I don't want to see the look of pure anger that will be in Gina's eyes. Gina is always telling me to grow a backbone. Always reminding me that I'm an adult.

  But Mom and Nana are always telling me it doesn't matter how old I get, they will still be my mother and my grandmother and will always know what's best for me.

  I feel like a giant hand has grabbed my heart and is squeezing and crushing it as I walk to the taxi. I get into the back seat. Mom gets in after me and shuts the door.

  There's been no hug like should be normal when your mom pays you a surprise visit. There's been no 'How are you doing?' or 'How's college?' And sitting here in the back of a taxi together, there's no warmth. In fact, I've scooted as far away from her as possible and ice fills the gap between us.

  "Back to the airport, please," Mom tells the cabbie.

  Tears roll down my cheeks as the car begins to roll forward.

  I feel six years old again.

  I feel trapped.