Her Secret Life. Tara Taylor Quinn
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everything we’ve ever sent or received. They’re on flash drives. I’m happy to go now if you think it’s necessary.”
Poor Bo.
“No, that’s fine. But call Lacey for me, would you? I’d like to speak with her tonight, while she’s at home, just in case there’s someone in her office who’s trying to cause trouble.”
He didn’t think that was what had happened. At all. Whoever had posted the picture had clearly been after Kacey. But to what purpose? Why now, after she’d stopped living the wild, partying lifestyle?
Ringing off, he reminded himself that the purpose was not his business. His job was internet investigation. Beyond that was up to Kacey. Or, if things turned bad, the police.
* * *
THE LAST THING in the world Kacey wanted to do was phone her sister with her crap. Their whole lives Lacey had been the one to take care of things, whether it was smoothing the way with their parents when Kacey had gotten them into trouble or getting rid of an unwanted suitor—and, their whole lives, Kacey had been the one to shine.
Over the years, while she hadn’t understood it and had been hurt horribly by it, she and Lacey had grown further apart. Until one day her identical twin, her other half, had left her. Just...left.
Well, Lacey had told her that she was going—but only the day before. Then she’d packed up and walked out. Left the modeling business. The commercial-making business. They’d been in front of the camera together since they were too young to do anything but look cute and gurgle, and Lacey had broken up the team.
They’d become almost strangers after that—as much as identical twins who still saw each other often and talked every week could be strangers.
Then finally last summer, by some miracle, Lacey had invited Kacey to spend her vacation in Santa Raquel. There’d been some tough moments, but they’d worked through a lot of their past hurts.
And they were slowly finding their way back to a better version of the best they’d ever been.
She didn’t want that progress slowed. Or damaged.
Yet there she was, right back to being in the spotlight and needing Lacey’s help.
And she absolutely did not want her sister to think that she’d gone back on her word and started drinking heavily or partying again.
What she did want was to be in control of her life. And accountable for it.
Forgetting Bo for the moment, not caring about dinner or theaters or anything in Hollywood, she speed-dialed her sister’s number. Tried to feel what Lacey would feel when she heard the news.
And got in her own way. She couldn’t feel her sister when she was too busy feeling herself.
The call took less than two minutes.
Lacey was great—passionate and compassionate. Ready to do whatever it took to wipe the planet of any demon that might dare to venture into Kacey’s life.
Not for one second did she indicate, in any way, that she had even the slightest doubt that the image was Photoshopped.
She said she’d call Mike Valentine immediately.
Told Kacey she loved her.
And went back to her life. More specifically, she was going to join Jem and Levi for a trip to the local ice cream store.
After she ended the call, Kacey stood alone in the Beverly Hills restroom, wishing she had what Lacey had.
A home in Santa Raquel with her own family.
A life she’d purposely chosen.
A path she understood.
MIKE WASN’T THE least bit surprised when Lacey’s call included an invitation for him to come right over and check out her machine. Lacey and Jem Bridges were just that way—open doors and willingness to help written all over them. As a social worker, Lacey offering a helping hand seemed natural. Jem was just plain one of the nicest guys Mike had ever met.
He also had an embarrassing and never to be spoken of—or even fully acknowledged to himself—sense of brotherhood with Jem. Like Mike, Jem had suffered at the hand of a loved one. Equally as bad, worse in Mike’s case, was the world knowing he was a victim. That sense of people looking at you with pity could make you feel less...manly if you let it. Jem didn’t. At all.
Mike didn’t, either.
Hence the brotherhood.
It ended there. Unlike Jem’s abuse, Mike’s injury had had nothing to do with a loved one purposely attacking him. Mike’s injury was the result of a complete and total accident. A tragic accident that had...
No.
Kacey had touched his chest...telling him he was beautiful...
No. He was not looking back. There was no point wondering what could have been.
If not for the bullet that had ripped his face apart, he never would have met Kacey. Known the joy of her friendship.
He’d have been married to Susan, fully entrenched in the corporate world in whatever city made him the best offer, and probably spending Saturdays driving their kids places.
Not a bad picture.
But not Kacey.
And he wouldn’t have been able to help out the Lemonade Stand, either, or had such close relationships with his parents and siblings.
“Mike, come in!” Lacey stepped back, pulling the door open wider, as Jem came forward to shake his hand.
“What’s up, man?” Jem fist-bumped him on the shoulder with his free hand, a grin on his face.
“Business, unfortunately,” Mike answered as though he’d rehearsed his response. Which he had.
He wasn’t there because he was hot for Kacey. He was working.
As soon as it became anything else, people would start pitying him.
And this time, with reason. If he was stupid enough to fall for her, he’d deserve to be pitied.
He might find the daytime-soap star hot, he might even enjoy her company, but he most definitely did not want to queue up in her line of men.
He was a one-woman kind of guy who liked the quiet life. A geek who liked his own company.
He would hate being a part of the crazy mélange that was Kacey’s Beverly Hills life.
The thought of enduring even one week of that lifestyle gave him cold sweats.
Much more effective than a cold shower.
“I’m going to be playing T-ball. You like watching T-ball?”
Shaking errant thoughts from his mind, Mike focused on the five-year-old who’d just approached licking a soggy chocolate ice cream cone.
“Yes, Levi, it just so happens I do like watching T-ball,” he said, nodding. “I used to like to play, too, and watch my little brothers play.”
“Cool. Maybe you could come watch me sometime.”
From what he’d been told by his secret friend, Kacey attended every Levi event she could. But T-ball games often happened on weeknights. And Kacey would be in LA.
“Maybe I could,” he told the little boy and tensed at the same time.
What are you doing, man?
What if Levi’s team made it to a tournament? The family would expect him to come cheer the team on. Tournament games were on Saturdays and...
“Levi, you’d best lick fast.” Jem tapped his