Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Rom pinched a popcorn bud and tossed the kernel into a cupholder three rows over, like we used to do as kids. “We’ve been awful friends.”
I shook my head. “You really haven’t.”
Zach nodded. “We have.”
I cleared my throat, unsure what to say in this uncharted territory. “Are you two … groveling?” My balls threatened to shrivel up and die a horrible death.
Zach sank into his seat as if he could disappear into it. “It gets worse.”
“Dallas made a PowerPoint.” Romeo palmed his phone, typing out a message. “And you’re sitting through every single slide because it took her hours.” He sent the text, and seconds later, the screen flickered to life.
“Hours? Where was this energy when she flunked out of college?” I settled into the worn leather, accepting my new plans for the afternoon. “She needs a hobby.”
“Butting into our lives is her hobby.”
“There better be pictures. I’m a visual learner.”
Zach pulled up an app on his phone, linked to the theater’s projection system. “We can skip the ‘You’re a Self-Sabotaging Idiot’ section and move on to the ‘Heart of Commitment’ slide.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand. “There’s a heart slide?”
“Don’t pretend you’re not riveted. It zooms in and everything.” Romeo shot three kernels in a row. “Besides, do you have any idea how long it took Dallas to animate the heartbeats?”
“For fuck’s sake.” I stuffed a handful of popcorn in my mouth to stop myself from saying something worse. “Fine. Show me this masterful presentation.”
As the first slide lit up, complete with tacky heart transitions, Zach tossed my phone onto my lap. It buzzed with a text from Sebastian.
I found him.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Briar
Trial Day Thirty.
The idea of spending another second without Oliver horrified me.
But the minute we landed at LAX, the production team announced a meeting at their Burbank headquarters tomorrow morning, effectively ruining any possibility of spending the weekend in Potomac.
I opted to lug my duffel bag into The Grand Regent Beverly Hills myself, trudging into the lobby. The automatic doors whispered shut. Trace, the doorman, greeted me with a nod.
The scent of citrus and leather welcomed me home, though I’d hardly call it familiar. I’d spent all of fourteen hours here thirty days ago and barely managed to unpack some of my things before I headed to the Caribbean for filming.
Exhaustion clung to my sleep-deprived limbs. I was just about set down my duffel on the freshly polished marble when something small and solid collided with my legs, wrapping around them with fierce determination.
The little girl grinned up at me, still clutching my legs as if I’d float away if she let go. “Hi, Sissy.” She was a tiny thing with curly hair the color of white-sand beaches, hot-pink travel sweats, and chunky light-up sneakers.
I bent down to pry her fists off me, then rested a palm on her shoulder. “Are you lost? Are you looking for your sister?”
“You are my sister, silly. My big sis.”
I blinked, a little stunned. “I’m sorry?”
She swept her eyes up and down the length of me. “Okay. That’s fine.”
“What’s fine?” I looked around for help, but there was no one tucked inside the little elevator alcove but us.
“Your face.”
“Umm … Huh?”
“Mommy says people look like their family when they grow up.” She patted my cheek with her tiny hand. “I want your face.”
“It doesn’t work like that, stupid.” That came from a boy her age as he rounded the corner into the nook. “We don’t have the same mom. You’re so dumb, Rose. I can’t believe we’re twins.”
Rose crossed her arms, finally backing away from me to confront him. “You’re the dumb one, Brian. We have the same dad as Briar. Duh.”
She knew my name.
She. Knew. My. Name.
A wild thought flickered in my mind. It didn’t make sense, and yet, it did. Brian and Rose. Briar Rose. Holy crap.
Brian matched Rose’s stance, almost identical to her, save for his cropped haircut and furrowed brows. “But he didn’t make her alone.”
“Whatever.” Rose flicked her curls over her shoulder. “You think you know everything just because teachers like you better. They only like you because you kiss their butts.”
I straightened, stumbling back into the wall, ignoring the elevator when it dinged. “Your names are Brian and Rose?”
“Yup.” Rose beamed up at me. “Daddy said he named me after you.”
“He named us after her,” Brian corrected, poutier than a reality star starved for screen time. “Every day, it’s always Rose, Rose, Rose. I’m so freaking sick of it.”
“Oooooh. I’m telling Mommy you said a bad word.”
“Brian. Rose.” A gorgeous redhead panted as she stepped into the alcove, planting a hand on a closed elevator door to catch her breath. “You two can’t run off like that. It’s dangerous.” When she caught sight of me, her eyes lit up. “Oh, Briar, sweetheart. There you are. You look every bit as beautiful as your photos. Cam is at the reception desk, trying to find you.”