By Monday, everything was pretty much back to normal between her and Trick. Yeah, Lyla had given him the cold shoulder for a few days, but it played well to the camera and Paul was ecstatic about the drama.
Curtis had been emailing her, but Lyla kept that quiet because she didn’t want to include him in the performance any more than was necessary.
Today they were going on a Prem corporate break. It was a few days away for team-building apparently, but it was really just a setup for the show. She hadn’t been told that in explicit terms, but she was sure it was.
Some of her colleagues were here, as were some of Trick’s, although she hadn’t actually seen him yet this morning. He’d been run ragged these past few days filming the quiz, and pre-recording segments for Boys Night. Although he would be doing a live Boys Night episode via Skype while they were away, which she thought would be fun for him.
The Boys Night shows weren’t always live, they only did a few live ones a year as a novelty. The audience loved them and were always demanding more because when things went wrong, they went really wrong. And there were often a few setups and surprises during the live shows.
There were also a series of Boys Nights specials due to begin filming in a few weeks where the boys would be required to do tasks and take part in missions in different locations. The audience loved the trio’s interaction and the channel were taking advantage of Trick’s boost in exposure and popularity. Though she’d miss it because filming would start after her three months with Trick were done.
The media had loved the first episode of Opposites Marry and were panting for more. She got her first paparazzi experience on Thursday and the cameras had been a pretty constant feature since the show aired. But Paul was so desperate to keep the footage of the couple secret that they now had security when they were out and about.
For the most part, the picture hounds had given up crowding them outside the apartment, though Trick was sure they were still being monitored via long lens, which made their walks feel much more exposed, so she’d been making them shorter.
Most everyone who was going was already on the bus that was going to drive them the hour or so to the hotel where they were having their getaway. Everyone except Trick and a few of his crew; no surprise there. Lyla was standing in the aisle of the bus having just pushed the handle of her suitcase down. She began to wonder how she’d reach the overhead compartment when the noise rose at the front of the bus.
She smiled, Lyla could always tell when Trick was approaching because he was followed by a rumble of conversation or laughter and there was usually some kind of greeting uproar. She didn’t even bother to turn around. He’d seek her out, or he wouldn’t, making eye contact wouldn’t make a difference to his plans.
But within a few seconds, Trick’s breath warmed her ear. “Save me a seat, Malloy?”
No one had ever wanted to sit with her, even now, but she didn’t grace him with an answer. She just tapped the top of her case and pointed up. “I can’t reach the overhead thingy.”
“I got it,” he said and picked up the case to shove it in to the overhead compartment.
They had a case. Yes, they had a case that was stowed in the trunk of the bus. There were just a few extras in this smaller case; it wasn’t heavy, she was just short.
Lyla dropped into the seat and began to move toward the window because she’d prefer to be in a corner and if Trick wanted to sit with her, he’d prefer the aisle anyway because he’d be able to talk to interesting people that way.
Except she didn’t get all the way over to the other side before Trick sank down next to her and scooped her up out of his way. He lay down on the seats and sat her right on top of him. Right on his stomach. Lyla grabbed the back of the seat in front and knew her cheeks flushed because everyone on the bus was looking right at them.
The woman opposite the aisle made a noise and Lyla turned to see that Trick had stretched his legs out, right across the aisle and propped his boot heel on the arm of the chair where he crossed his ankles.
“I’m sorry,” Lyla said, smacking Trick’s legs, he dropped his feet flat onto the floor of the aisle and Lyla smiled at the shocked woman who probably wouldn’t have minded, except the move was so unexpected. Turning to Trick, Lyla saw his shoulders slouched against the wall under the window and his eyes closed. “You nearly kicked that woman.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, then raised his voice to call out. “Sorry!”
“It’s… it’s ok,” the woman said. “He can put his feet up, that’s ok.”
Trick lifted his feet, but Lyla planted her hands on his thighs to push them down. “No, he can’t. But thank you.”
Turning back to Trick, she couldn’t be mad at him when he looked so tired, even with his eyes closed. “You haven’t shaved,” she said and brushed the back of her fingers on his stubble.
“Didn’t have time,” he said, but didn’t bother to open his eyes.
Slipping off her shoes, she looked around for her magazine. “You’re lying on my magazine,” she said, remembering that she’d tossed it into her seat. He kept his eyes closed, but lifted his shoulders, so she bowed over him to reach underneath to fish it out.
“Why aren’t we driving yet?” he asked as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Glancing around, she saw that there were people still on their feet and there were still some empty seats. She’d been told there would be at most just one vacant seat, this was a popular trip.
“Not everyone is here yet,” she said and smiled as she opened her magazine and picked up her feet to cross her legs. If Trick wanted to be her seat, she wasn’t going to change her usual behavior. Lyla liked to cross her legs, and he didn’t object, but he was probably used to it. She did this at home a lot, it helped the cameras have something to look at, so while she read and he watched TV, they would fashion themselves in all kind of overlapping seated positions. They’d be wrapped in each other or supporting the other’s body making it look like they had a building intimacy. “Fancy you not being the last one to show up. That must be a first.”
He sniggered a fake laugh and yawned then rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s warm in here.”
“The air conditioning probably isn’t on yet,” she said and found the first article that she wanted to read. She read a couple of lines before he spoke again, a sure sign he was feeling impatient.
“Read to me,” he said, still in his semi-slumber.
“There are people here, babe,” she said, glancing around at the others who were stealing looks at the couple, but she was getting used to it.
Being followed by a camera twenty-four seven gave her a new comfort level for being stared at.
She often read to him in the apartment when they were alone, but she didn’t think the others here would appreciate it.
“I want to hear your voice,” he said.
“Later,” she said because she wasn’t going to read to the whole bus. “You’re going to get a crick in your neck if you stay like that.” He tugged her sweater. “You need a pillow?”
“We could go to the back of the bus… lay down together.”
Trust him to find a way to make innuendos even when he was sleeping. “There’s a restroom at the back of the bus,” she said, “not a full back seat.”
“Then a pillow it is,” he said and tugged her sweater again.
But she wasn’t going to take it off even though she knew that’s what he was getting at. Balancing herself on him and with a hand on the back of the chair in front, she picked up her purse from the floor and pulled out the inflatable pillow she’d brought. Yes, she knew him and knew that he’d be tired.
Laying her magazine on his chest, she shifted down his body a bit and began to blow in to the pillow. “I get so sick of reading about climate change,” she said between puffs, her eye still moving over the article that was laid on him. “I mean, if half these journalists put their time and effort in to actually taking action rather than just writing about taking action, the problem would be solved, right?”
“That’s true of a lot of things though, isn’t it?” he asked, moving his hand from under the magazine on his chest to stroke her back probably to soothe her because he knew this was one of the things she got riled about. He’d heard her ranting about it often enough when she was reading articles from the internet aloud to him at home. “It’s easier to comment than to act.”
“Maybe,” she said and kept blowing until the pillow was big enough for her to lean down and pick up his head.
Their close quarters didn’t feel weird until he opened his eyes a fraction and she realized her chest was right there in his face. “Hello, ladies,” he said and blinked up at her with mischief in his eyes. “Motorboat?”
Pressing her hand over his eyes as she positioned the pillow behind his head, Lyla laughed because with her sweater over her body, there was nothing to see. As she sat back and picked up her magazine, she had to wriggle because she was uncomfortable. Trick’s hands shot out to clasp her, one hand on her abdomen, the other on the small of her back.
“I hurt you?” she asked.
He hissed in a breath that showed his teeth and she worried she’d done damage. “I spend a lot of time thinking about my mother when you’re sitting on me,” he grumbled in a whisper.
His lips curled, and he was certainly breathing funny.
She didn’t really get it. “Your belt is jagging me.”
“Then undo it,” he said, still in that pained husky voice.
“Really?” she asked, having not considered doing that.
It would make more sense for her just to move seats, except she’d been told the bus was going to be full. When she looked over the seats, there seemed to be two free seats together about halfway down the bus.
“On second thoughts,” he said and increased his grip to pick her up and lift her higher so she was sitting right on his chest.
Her whoop drew some attention, but as he smoothed the edge of her sweater from his face, he exhaled and smiled. “Can you breathe?” she asked.
“Easier,” he said. “Figured having you sitting on my dick was about as close to the edge of my control as I could get. If your dainty little fingers start undressing me, I’ll probably go off.”
Inhaling, Lyla knew better than to take him seriously and went back to reading her magazine.
They must have sat like that for another ten minutes, and she was sure Trick was asleep, but noise started to rumble up the bus. Usually that kind of susurration only accompanied Trick, but he was already here, she knew that for sure.
Something buzzed and she glanced down to see a light against the seat. Trick lifted his pelvis, which tipped her hip closer to his face. But he didn’t seem to notice as he settled back down, his broad shoulders squashed into this narrow space. It was a shame really that he had to shoehorn himself in here just for a few minutes of sleep. But as she ran her fingers into his hair, he turned his phone around to read something and his relaxed expression suddenly got tense.
“Damn,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked as he took her hand from his hair and kissed the back of her fingers. “What’s wrong?”
He brushed her fingers against his stubble and didn’t even try to smile when he said, “Kira.”
And at the same moment she realized what he was saying, the noise on the bus rose again and then there she was, Kira Levine, in the flesh. “She’s gorgeous,” Lyla murmured as she watched the woman float up the aisle of the bus on her own personal invisible cloud chariot.
Picking her up, Trick put Lyla back in a seat as he sat up at the window. “More beautiful outside than in,” he said and Kira spotted him.
The two of them held eye contact and Lyla looked between them, Kira seemed to be smirking, but why? Trick on the other hand, didn’t look like a man in love, he looked tense and angry. Was he worried about what was going to happen?
Kira slid into a seat and stayed perfectly poised. Trick didn’t flinch. Lyla picked up his hand. “Go to her,” she murmured and his attention snapped around to her, so she smiled. “It’s where you’re supposed to be, with her. You’re supposed to be with her.”
“But I—”
“No,” she said and shook her head. “Go be him, go do what you have to. Seduce her… you’ve earned it. We’ve been married nearly three weeks, have you had sex at all since?”
“No,” he snapped, so offended by the suggestion that she laughed.
“Then there’s your reward,” Lyla said, turning to look at the back of Kira’s perfect head. “Your prize is one of the most coveted women in the world.”
She didn’t expect to feel Trick’s lips on the side of her neck, but after the long press of his kiss, she turned to look him in the eye. “I’m not gonna touch her.”
“I understand,” Lyla said, nodding. “I’m not supposed to know. The affair is to be secret this week, remember? You’ll be able to sleep with her for at least two weeks before the show catches up to what we’re doing now.”
His eyes closed slowly as his face fell against her shoulder. “I’m worth more than what someone will pay for me,” he mumbled. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes,” she said, turning her mouth into his hair as she stroked the back of his neck. “Sometimes it’s the risks we take that define us, isn’t that one of your mottos? Having an extramarital affair is a big risk, but the world will understand it. When you put Kira and me together, there’s really no contest.”
He lifted his head to look her in the eye again. But before he could say anything, the bus began to move and she slid out of her seat to pull him up. “Malloy—”
“Go say hello,” she said, slipping in to the window seat and picking up her magazine. “I’m being boring anyway. Go on.”
There was traffic that delayed them getting to the hotel, but she figured that kind of worked out because it gave Trick and Kira more time to reconnect. As soon as they stopped, there was a cheer and everyone seemed to stand in sync.
The nice guy from the row in front of her helped her pull her case down from the overhead and he introduced himself as Tony.
Tony was also the first person she saw at the welcome mixer that was taking place that night. Lyla didn’t know where Trick was, she hadn’t seen him at all since the melee of people getting off the bus kept them apart. But she didn’t expect to see much of him on this excursion; she’d guess that was the whole point of setting this up, to give Trick and Kira time to get it on.
“I just don’t see why anyone needs to get involved in anyone else’s business,” she said to Tony as they sat at the bar together.
There was a buffet against the far wall that was meant to serve as their dinner. Lyla and Tony had already made a trip over there, but were back on their stools at the bar, keeping to themselves rather than really mingling. But right now, most of the groups were keeping to those people they knew and given that she didn’t know anyone except the Cronies, Lyla was happy to stick with Tony.
He laughed. “Says the woman who’s the subject of her own show,” he said.
Smiling, she conceded a half-shrug. “It’s not my show, it’s Trick’s show,” she said. “And if anything, that gives me a better understanding and appreciation of what it involves.” Pushing her shoulders back, she showed the black stripe pinned to her neckline. “I live my entire life miked.”
“It must have been a difficult adjustment,” he said. “Going from anonymity to instant fame.”
“It wasn’t instant,” she said. “The cameras were following us for a couple of weeks before the show aired, that kind of gave me a chance to get used to the intrusion.”
“You don’t seem like the type of woman to flaunt herself, but everyone in the room, probably the city, has seen you in a bikini, doesn’t that make you feel violated?”
Tipping her smile toward him, she was done with the food, and instead picked at the edge of her straw as they made eye contact. “You writing a story?”
Again, he laughed. “I work for Prem, honey, you don’t have to worry about me keeping your secrets… I just… I think everyone was surprised by your decision to do it. Watching that first show was… painful.”
“Great television,” she muttered and picked up her glass to drink from her straw.
“Is that what they tell you?” he asked.
Why was his voice softening like that? Did he really expect her to open her heart to him? Even if she was willing to spill all her secrets, she didn’t actually have any. “Trick takes care of me.”
Turning his body toward hers, Tony laid an arm across the back of her stool. “If that was true, he’d be here with you instead of over there with Kira Levine.”
Oh. Straightening, she didn’t even bother to look over her shoulder. If Tony said that Trick was here, then he was here. And just like she’d thought on the bus, it wouldn’t make any difference if she looked at him or not. If he wanted to come to her, he would, if not, he wouldn’t. With Kira around, he had no reason to come to her.
“They’re friends,” she said, drinking more. “They haven’t seen each other for a while, they’re just catching up.”
“They’ve been catching up all day. Seems fair that a man would come and check in with his wife when they’re at the same party.”
Everyone loved to tell her everything that was wrong with Trick and she was sure that everyone did the same with him, telling him how wrong they were for each other. It didn’t matter that it was true. Didn’t people think that they knew that?
Trying not to get annoyed, she was so disappointed when Tony’s hand slid onto her knee. Sheesh. Since the show had aired, male attention in her had sky rocketed. She didn’t know why. She’d have to probe Trick for his thoughts on male motivations. Was it because she was married? Because she was married to Trick, a popular, virile guy and these guys wanted to test their appeal? Or was it because of what Tony had already admitted to seeing? The bikini.
If she was obvious about picking his hand off her leg, someone would see and the cameras were in the room. Lyla didn’t know exactly where they were because she’d been trying to ignore them and not be obvious about seeking them out, but they were looming.
Her saving grace was Trick and Kira. With them at the party, it was unlikely that anyone was looking at her.
“Please don’t,” she murmured and tried to move her leg away.
“He’s not watching… he’s busy with her.”
Maybe it was fame people wanted and guys thought that if she started messing with them they’d get screen time with Trick.
“Please take your hand off my leg,” she said, so disappointed that a man who she’d thought was a genuine guy turned out to have an agenda.
“Someone should look after you,” he said. “Trick’s not going to do it.”
Why would she want this guy to do anything for her? “We just met,” she said, irritated by the movement of his fingers as they caressed her through her skirt. “Do you think I would cheat on my husband with a stranger because he says he’ll look after me?” she hissed and grabbed her purse. “What do you think I need from you that Trick doesn’t give me?”
“Attention for one thing.”
“Whoa, you read that one wrong, buddy,” she said, spinning away from him to leap off her stool. “My husband knows that the last thing I need is attention. I don’t need him to pander and he doesn’t expect me to simper.”
“Lyla,” he said and tried to reach for her, but she twisted away.
“Get over yourself, Tony. Stay away from me. And if you know what’s good for you you’ll stay away from my husband too. He doesn’t like men who put their hands on me.”
Where had that come from? Lyla asked herself the question as she turned to walk out of the bar and through the lobby to return to her room.
It was true, Trick had flipped out at Curtis for putting his hands on her, but that was for show because the cameras were there and it looked good for him to be possessive. Trick probably didn’t give two hoots about who was feeling her up, not really. So why the hell had she said it?