“Did you really invite Beatrice?” Dad asked. This time, he paused, awaiting Knox’s response.
He sighed, sat in the beanbag, and grabbed his guitar. “Yes, I invited Mom.”
“You know I can’t be in the same room with that woman.” Dad sighed heavier than Knox.
Meanwhile, Knox’s stomach churned, because he hated this part. The part where he negotiated a truce between the parents long enough for him to do something important: graduate high school, open for a big-deal reunion tour as a twenty-something nobody, and, you know, get married. Only his publicist, bandmates, their plus-ones, and his manager knew about the reality of the situation. He’d definitely be keeping even his parents in the dark, since they were essentially props for him to convince the world this was a love match. A guy didn’t get married to the woman he pretended to care about without the parents present. It just wasn’t done. Or so Courtney and Irina both said.
“You can sit on opposite sides of the chapel,” he said. “It’ll be like you’re both not even there.” He hoped he could convince Irina to put them in the nosebleed seats at the…shit…where were they getting married?
She’d mentioned it. Yes, she’d mentioned it.
For sure, she’d told him. He’d even given his agreement.
But where had she said?
Crap.
He should find that out so he could check to ensure that the space held plenty of room for him to put between his parents, because God forbid they had to look at each other for one more second of their existences.
“I’m trusting you on this, Jeremy,” Dad said in that tone of his that he used when he needed Knox to do his dirty work, buy him a new car, or a house, or that one time he’d sent Knox the bill for his trip to Florence. A trip with many, many, many issues and even more requests for upgrades due to the inconveniences of the five-star hotels.
“I got you, Dad.” He ignored that pulling nag in his core that he always got when he made promises like this, because next it would be his mom and the negotiations would start all over.
Irina sauntered into the room with a big-ass grin on her face, and just like that, the day looked brighter. Damn, he liked his bride. Irina was a kick and a half to be around.
“Bride’s here. Gotta jet.” He said his goodbyes as Irina sauntered through the room from the back door, checking out the latest work of the construction crew.
Her hair color changed as often as her eye color. Though, lately, she’d stuck with blonde hair, but he’d seen her through red, black, brown, and even a blue phase. Her body had the kind of curves that made a man like Knox take notice.
Her hips swayed in theLittle House on the Prairiedress that everyone in Hollywood wore these days. He didn’t really get the whole thing with the 1980s vomiting up their old inventory, but Irina worked that dress in a way that made him actually want to go to a prairie with her. The heels, the chunky jewelry, the way she hiked up one side of the skirt, so it was sort of slit, but not a slit.
He didn’t mean to, but he totally licked his lips.
“What?” Irina rubbed at her mouth with her forefinger. “Do I have lipstick everywhere?”
“No,” he said way too loudly. He re-centered himself because he wasn’t supposed to think his not-for-real bride was sexy. “You’re good.”
She grinned. “You’re so weird.”
“Uh-huh.” He did the confirmation, but not quite thing again.
“What brings you to Casa de Knox?” he asked. “Do you want to go out front and make a scene for the paps with me?”
“Rain check on the photo op, because since the big engagement news drop, I havenewnews.” Irina did a dance with her shoulders.
“Oh, yeah?” He set aside his guitar and cell and stood. “The press has decided I’m awesome again?”
“Even better.” Her blue eyes sparkled. Yesterday, they’d been green. Once, she’d even used colored contacts to turn them purple.
He never knew what he was going to get with her day by day.
“Better than that?” Because he couldn’t think of much better than that.
“My agent called,” she announced. “I. Got. A. Callback.” Irina said the last bit with a touch of shrill and a sound he’d never heard come out of her before. “It’s not even really a callback because I didn’t get the original audition. But they called my agent and got a copy of one of my audition reels and now I’ve got a callback.” She squeed. “A callback, Knox. It’s a callback.” She bounced on her toes.
“That’s, uh….” Great? Fabulous? Sounds good?
“Don’t you see?” She stepped toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a bit of a shake. “Our plan is already working.”
