The Virgin Duet Read online

  “Hair and makeup,” he says simply, as if it’s normal to have someone do your hair and makeup. I color my own hair with boxed stuff, and just kind of splash the purple and pink everywhere. Maybe he doesn’t like my hair. I also don’t own any makeup, and it’s a bitter reminder I’m not like the other women in his world. But, for tonight, I can try. It’s just one night, and I haven’t left this penthouse in what seems like forever. Every time I need to go do something, I find Bray is taking care of it for me. Sometimes I think he doesn’t want me to leave the confines of this place.

  “Good,” he says, and heads to the bathroom. I hear the shower turn on, and I roll over to reach for my phone. I have one message.

  Sam: I need to see you.

  Dread fills my stomach. I’m not sure why. I’ve been trying to get ahold of Sam for weeks without any luck. I’ve been worried but I’m also relieved that I haven’t had to chase him all over town to make sure he is okay. I haven’t had to make sure he isn’t hanging out with the wrong people, but maybe all I’ve done is left him to his own devices too long, and now he could really be in trouble.

  “What’s wrong?” Bray says, interrupting my thoughts. I must have been lying here worrying for longer than I thought. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, and I regret not joining him in the shower. It’s something we haven’t done yet, but is mostly definitely on my new over-sexed to-do list.

  “Just Sam,” I reply, and his face turns cold. I ignore him, because whenever Sam’s name comes up Bray gets more pushy than normal. He thinks he’s being sly, offering to take care of things when it comes to Sam. Like dropping off money for him, or paying the rent, but I know he doesn’t like me hanging around him. I also know that if I broach the subject it will probably be a fight, something Bray and I haven’t really had before, and I’m not itching to try it out. I like the new Bray, he’s sweet and doting, and I’m not inclined to have the cold looks he seems to give everyone else directed at me.

  He continues to just stare at me, waiting for me to give him more information.

  “He wants to meet up.”

  “No.”

  I narrow my eyes at his response. No? Like he can tell me what to do.

  “I’ll go see him if I want,” I say, getting angry that he thinks he can boss me around like he does everyone else he speaks to. He doesn’t understand how many times Sam protected me from things that could have shattered me, some of the beatings he took for me. If I can protect him now, then I have to try.

  He takes a step back and I can see he’s thinking about his next words carefully. If he says the wrong thing, I might bolt, and he’s right. I could. I don’t like being caged and that’s the feeling I’m starting to get. He thinks he can control what I can and cannot do, and he’s mistaken.

  “I just meant not today,” he finally says, and I’m not sure I believe him. He walks over to me and cups my face with his big hands, pressing his forehead to mine.

  “We have a lot going on today, can’t we deal with this tomorrow? I have three meetings, and the benefit tonight, Tink. I don’t want to have this on our plate today as well.”

  I soften at his words. He’s saying it as if our days are intertwined and anything on my plate is also on his. It’s nice to think that someone else is with me, that I’m not having to worry about them but they are worrying about me.

  “Okay,” I say, placing my lips to his for a soft kiss. Bray pushes his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss until he’s on top of me. I reach to pull his towel away, but he grabs my wrist, stopping my movement.

  “I have to go,” he says through gritted teeth. I let myself go lax against the bed and try to hide my disappointment. I’ve been trying to get him to work less, tempting him to stay home with me more, but it never seems to work. I wonder if he’ll always be like this, but I squash that thought as soon as it enters my head. I won’t always be his. This is just temporary. A girl like me doesn’t end up with a man like Bray. But I’ll always hang on to the fact that I was his first.

  Placing one last kiss on my lips, Bray pulls himself from the bed and finishes getting ready.

  “Tomorrow, right, Rebecca?” he asks before he heads out the door. I know when he uses my real name I’m either in trouble or he’s being totally serious.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow,” I confirm, not wanting to get into it right now. He’s right, we have enough going on today.

  Nodding his agreement, he’s out the door.

  Hours later the stylist shows up and starts her makeover. Immediately I can tell from the look on her face that she isn’t too happy with what she sees. In fact, she’s pissed that she’s going to have to dye my hair.

  “The pink and purple have to go,” she says, eyeing my hair.

  “No, I like it.”

  “Fine, if you want to embarrass Mr. Spencer at the benefit, have at it,” she says, and I feel my stomach knot. Maybe she’s right. It would be best to blend in and get this night over with. I can’t seem to look forward to dressing up and going out because I’m so nervous.

  Nodding, she gets to work and doesn’t say much as she does my hair. She decides on a dress while my new color is setting, before she does my make-up—something about matching my make-up to my dress. I don’t understand all of it. She goes to the closet and after a few moments comes back with a floor-length, strapless navy-blue dress.

  Four hours later, I barely recognize myself in the mirror. I do look pretty, beautiful really, but I don’t feel like me.

  The freckles that sprinkle my nose are gone, due to the layer of foundation, blush, and bronzer she put on me. I didn’t ask what anything was, but I think the woman wanted to educate me as she worked. My eye make-up is heavy and it makes my eyes seem a lighter purple. The make-up is flawless, but it’s not what I’m used to, and I look much older than my eighteen years.

  She ended up stripping the color from my hair, so I’m as close to my natural color as I’ve been since before I started coloring it. My bright blonde locks are twisted at the base of my neck in a tight updo, and my part is sleek to one side. It’s not really painful, I just don’t think I can turn my head without turning my body in the same direction.

  I was reluctant about the dress, because my boobs are so big, but whoever bought the dress nailed it. It fits well under my arms and holds me snug. It’s fitted but not too tight and, I have to say, looks great on my curves. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it more than an hour in the matching heels without killing myself, but at least the dress gives me a little bit of confidence.

  I wonder what Bray will think. If he’ll like this look on me or not. Part of me wants him to love it and the other part hopes he hates it. That he sees this isn’t me and that it’s not someone I want to be. This whole thing makes me feel like a liar and I hope he’s able to see that.

  The stylist leaves just before six, and as I inspect myself in the mirror I hear the front door open. I make my way to the front living room and I hear a woman's laughter. Rounding the corner, I see a smile spread across Bray’s face as he watches the unknown woman laugh.

  “Is that so? I bet you the Byron’s account that you’re full of it,” the woman says, laughter still in her voice, neither noticing that I’ve entered the room. She’s utterly stunning. She’s almost as tall as Bray in her heels, with a slim waist and shiny black hair that falls to just above her shoulders. Her pale skin and dark hair are a bold contrast against her red dress. She’s more classically beautiful than Cindy. Her elegance and poise flow without effort.

  Normally when Bray gets home, the first thing he does is seek me out. No matter where I am he has me up against the closest wall, making me tell him how much I missed him. I remember his earlier promise of inspecting me when he got home tonight, but that seems to have been forgotten.

  “I swear it. She’s—” his words cut off when he sees me, and the smile that was on his face drops. He looks at me with angry eyes while the woman’s smile from before grows even bigger.

>   “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me, B?” the woman asks. Great, she has a nickname for him. I try to hide my eye roll of jealousy because she did just compliment me.

  “My apologies. Chelsea, this is Rebecca, the woman I was telling you about.” I’m not sure what I am to Bray, but obviously he is telling this stranger who I am.

  Chelsea comes forward and I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she surprises me and pulls me in for a hug. When she pulls back I have to look up to see her face because of how much taller she is than me, even in the heels I’m wearing. Her smile is so big I can’t help but return it.

  “Cupcake?” she asks, holding up a little box of baked goods.

  “Yes, please,” I say, realizing that I’m starving. Glancing over, I see Bray’s still standing there with a cold look on his face. It sends chills down my spine.

  “Scoot along, B. Let us ladies have a snack while you get your tux on.”

  “I’ll just be a moment,” he says, but he looks like he doesn’t want to leave the room. After a few beats he turns on his heels and heads for the bedroom.

  “You don’t mind if I ride with you guys, do you? Even if B isn’t my date, I still have to go to this charity thing tonight. Appearances and all that jazz.”

  “Of course.” What else can I say? ‘No, I want Bray all to myself’? I know Bray said he hadn’t been with anyone before me, but their comfort together is unsettling. He seemed to be having a good time until he looked up and saw me.

  “That’s very sweet of you. Chocolate or red velvet?” she asks, going over to the kitchen and pulling out plates and napkins.

  “Whichever you don’t want.” I don’t want to seem rude, so I go to the kitchen beside her.

  “B’s always got healthy stuff in his house,” she says, winking and passing me a chocolate cupcake. I take a bite and moan around it. I didn’t realize I needed this until I started eating.

  “So how do you and B know each other?” she asks, sitting down at the kitchen bar. “He mentioned there was someone special in his life but he didn’t give any details.”

  “I’m helping him out while I stay here. Cleaning, I guess.” For some reason I feel embarrassed that I’m the cleaning lady.

  “Are you responsible for all these stunning paintings decorating the walls?” she asks, glancing around the room at my works of art. She doesn’t comment on why I’m staying with Bray.

  “Yes, they're mine.”

  “As in you brought them here or you painted them?” she questions.

  “I painted them.” I feel a blush hit my cheeks at someone looking at my work.

  “You have talent and they’re stunning, just like you. I love seeing all this life in B’s home. It makes me happy for him.”

  I’m not sure what she means. But I just nod and take another bite of my cupcake. Feeling a little better that she likes my work. I hate how off I feel in his world sometimes.

  “Rebecca, I want to be frank with you.”

  “Please call me Becs.”

  “Okay, Becs, I want to be honest.”

  Oh fuck, here it comes. Maybe her politeness was just a mask like the one Cindy seems to wear. Whenever Bray is in the room she’s a freaking peach, but the moment he’s gone, the claws come out.

  “You seem like a sweet girl, I just want you to be careful.”

  “Careful?” I question.

  “B’s world is harsh, and I don’t want you to get eaten alive. I’ve never seen him this happy, so whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.”

  Before I can respond, or ask her what she means by that, Bray walks into the room. I’m not sure what to do. Normally he kisses and touches me, but now he seems to be keeping his distance and it makes me uncomfortable. Maybe he’s seeing that I don’t really fit in into his world after all—that in the light of day things aren't so great.

  “Ready?” he snaps in a cold hard voice.

  “Maybe I should just stay home, and you go with Chelsea.” I’m really not feeling up to going now, and between Bray’s behavior since he walked in the door and Chelsea's comment, I just want to crawl back into bed. Preferably the one this morning with Bray, where it was just us and nothing else. We could only live in our bubble for so long, and I’m starting to think there is no us outside that bubble.

  Bray’s eyes light up at my comment, and I feel my heart break a little. He doesn't want me to go. Even after the makeover and the stupid dress, I still don’t fit in. It’s like that day in his office all over again, only this time it’s a hundred times worse because over the past few weeks he’s made me feel like he wanted me, the real me. When it’s just us, that’s who he wants.

  It’s foster care all over again. Me trying to be someone that I’m clearly not. Fitting into someone else's mold and still coming up short.

  “Don’t be silly. You look absolutely stunning and B is going to show you off.” Chelsea glances over at Bray shooting him a death look. “Aren't you?”

  “Chelsea,” he growls in a warning.

  Rolling her eyes she turns back to me. “We’re all going,” she says, grabbing my hand pulling me towards the door.

  When we get in the limo Chelsea and Bray talk about work and things I can’t begin to understand. They look like the fit so perfectly together. Why isn't he with her? Maybe now that he has tried sex he’ll be more open to trying it with other people. The thought makes a sob rise in my throat, and it’s all I can do to hold it down.

  I can’t do this. I’m falling too deeply into a world I can never be a part of. Into a world that Bray doesn't seem like he wants me in.

  BRAY

  We’re in the limo on the way the benefit and I look over to see Rebecca is on the verge of tears. I’m such an asshole. I didn’t tell her she looked beautiful, even though she does. I’m just completely shocked by the transformation, and I don’t like it.

  We’d found a rhythm the past few weeks and I’ve never been happier. My world has been neatly lined and perfectly ordered, but I know tonight is going to change all that.

  Chelsea has been extra chatty since she got in the limo because she’s trying to ease the tension, something she does when she’s nervous. She and I have been friends since elementary school, and though I care for her, my feelings have never gone beyond friendship. I’ve always looked at her more as a sister than as a woman.

  I’ve been so absorbed with my fairy lately that I completely forgot that Chelsea was coming tonight. Tink has consumed my every waking thought. Chelsea and I always go to this charity auction together because both of our investment firms donate generously to the children's hospital. We’ve had this standing date for over eight years, but this year it slipped my mind. It wasn’t until Chelsea walked into my office wearing an evening dress that I remembered we were supposed to go together. I filled her in a little on the way to the penthouse but didn’t go into details as my thoughts were so scattered.

  I’m aggravated with myself because my life is organized and structured, and I don’t forget things. I obsess and plan and I don’t allow things to fall through the cracks. Tonight, I forgot about Chelsea and I can see how much it hurt Rebecca. She’s looking out the window and taking deep breaths. She’s trying to hold on to her tears with iron control, and finally I snap. I can’t stand not touching her anymore. Which is insane because I’ve gone out of my way my whole life to not touch anyone, and now her touch is one that I crave.

  I reach across the seat and entwine my fingers with hers. She flinches at my first touch and then closes her eyes, still facing the window. I run the tips of my fingers across her wrist and touch the large bracelet she has there.

  Rebecca looks lovely tonight, classic, as if she belongs. Everything from head to toe is polished, except the bracelet. I smile at it while I touch her wrist because this has to be hers already. No way would the stylist have brought this in. So instantly, I love this bracelet more than anything in the world. It’s a cuff around her wrist made of white plastic and covered in sparkles. I
t’s the only thing on her body that looks like her, so I keep rubbing her wrist and looking at it.

  Rebecca finally turns to look at me, and we lock eyes. Chelsea is still chatty, yet we’ve both tuned her out. In this moment, it’s only my fairy and me alone in the world.

  “I forgot to tell you that you look lovely tonight, Tink.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you Chelsea was coming but I forgot that too. You seem to distract me.”

  With that, she gives me a small smile, and I feel some of the ice between us chip away.

  “Please don’t be upset with me. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

  She touches my cheek and gives me a little nod, telling me she’s okay. She might not be over it completely, but I can sense she’s trying to forgive me.

  I look at Rebecca and I can’t help but hate the way she’s dressed up. She doesn’t look like my Tink. She’s wearing too much makeup, and her hair is all wrong. She took out the colors I love so much and I miss them already. Her clothes are too formal and the heels look uncomfortable on her little feet. I want to take them off and rub her toes. My chest gets tight and I can’t get over the weird feeling inside me right now.

  I take a deep breath and realize my anxiety is back. I go through my mental checklist and realize it’s because I’m taking Rebecca into the snake pit tonight. There will be so many people who will judge her, and I’m a nervous ball of energy. I never want her around some of these people and I’ve tried to protect her as long as possible. I’ve avoided taking her out in public to keep her out of the press. There’s always some paparazzi stalking me, trying to get the next big scoop, so I’ve hidden her to try to keep that part of my life away from her. It’s not that I haven’t wanted her out in the world with me, it’s just that I want to shelter her from everything bad in my life, including these assholes with more money than decency at this function tonight. These snobs love to gossip and I don’t like giving them a new subject. My Tinkerbell is more precious to me than that.