Page 30 of Secret Hudson

“How long you been out here?”

He shrugs and points the remote at the TV to turn it off. “All fucking morning. Came back in here after everyone cleared out. Figured between make up sex, post cat-fight sex and whatever man on man action you two were getting into, I’d have the living room to myself for a while.”

I’m about to explain to Angel that man on man action is also considered sex when Sammy comes strolling out of Derek’s room and heads straight for Ava.

“Ava?”

She cocks her head slightly to the side, her ‘I don’t really give shit face’ already in place. “What?”

“I just wanted to say I’m really sorry. I was freaking out when I got here, and everyone was so weird about it. I didn’t realize how much our problems were affecting the whole band. It’s just been a really rough year for Derek and me. Anyway, I justwanted to apologize.” Even though she says all the right words, it doesn’t mean shit. And one look at Ava tells me she feels the same way.

Rather than say so, she counters Sammy’s counterfeit speech with one of her own. “It’s fine. Really. I should have been more understanding. I knew this tour was taking its toll on you guys. I shouldn’t have jumped all over you for an accusation we all knew was just a cry for help on your part.”

It’s patronizing and completely insincere, but unless Sammy wants to blow her own mock apology to shit, she has no choice but to take it and smile. Which she does.

“Oh good. Both my favorite girls are getting along again.” Derek wanders up behind Sammy and wraps his arms around her waist. It’s only about the dumbest fucking thing he could say, given the circumstances. Even ‘foot permanently lodged in his mouth’ Nolan knows that.

“Are you fucking kidding? What, like they’re sister wives now? How about you don’t claim both of them after one just accused the other of banging you, k?” Blaise scowls at him as he goes to plant a sloppy kiss on the top of Ava’s head.

Then, because shit is already unraveling at a nice and steady pace, the penthouse door opens and in marches Francis with Petra right behind her.

“What’s up, party people? Check out the hot little number I picked up in the lobby.” She stops when she spots Angel. “She’s probably more your type than mine though, so I guess I’ll let you have her, Angel.”

“So very generous of you.” He grins as he stands up from his seat to properly greet his date. While the two proceed to play a game of oral twister for a solid minute, Francis makesthe rounds saying hi to the rest of us. Then, when Angel finally breaks free from Petra’s mouth, he apparently feels he needs to extend a proper, albeit delayed, welcome to Francis as well. She’s slightly out of his reach when he leans in toward her.

“Whoa, dude. I don’t know what sort of expectations you have of the women who walk into this room, but I’ll stick with a fucking handshake if it’s all the same to you.”

Francis actually holds out her hand and the expression on Angel’s face is enough to have us all rolling. Well, almost everyone. The only person who’s noticeably unamused, is Sammy. Her mouth is twisted up so tightly you’d think she just stuck her nose in the ass end of a skunk. It has to sting watching Francis stroll in and be treated like she belongs when Sammy is now unofficially and unpleasantly outside of the inner circle. Especially considering she married into the family and Francis is no more to her than the hired help.

“Meanwhile, you all know the fucking car is downstairs waiting, right?” Francis says dryly, in her usual state of totally annoyed. She’s like the real-life version of MTV’s Daria. Except with darker hair and no glasses. Same damn expression and monotone voice though. Not to mention, outstanding sense of humor.

“Yes!” Ava starts waving her arms around in her usual attempt to herd us to her will. It works. Naturally.

We all make it into the Escalade limo without any further drama induced obstacles and even though I wind up sandwiched between Francis and Hudson, he doesn’t seem too concerned about her presence as of yet. Unlike Ava, who continues to stare at me while making odd movements with her mouth and eyebrows I’m sure are a side effect of her attempts tocommunicate with me via telepathy. Something she has as of yet not mastered but insists she will eventually. According to her, people can only live in close quarters for so long before their brainwaves start to overlap and match up. I told her she was confusing brain waves with menstrual cycles, but she insisted they were close enough.

And maybe they are, because the reality is, in spite of my best efforts to shut out her accusations via mental telepathy, I can hear her voicing each and every one of them loud and clear. I respond the same way I always do. By ignoring her completely.

Then. BOOM. My little self-made bomb blows up right in my face.

“So, girlfriend, how do you want to play this? Am I like your ‘date’ date? Or just a body to fill the seat beside you. I mean, I notice I didn’t get a corsage or anything - not that I’m complaining, but a girl has hopes, you know?” Francis waves her empty wrist around, glancing at it wistfully.

Inevitably, all eyes are on me. Most of them making me wish I was wearing a set of steel fucking armor.

“Hadn’t really thought that much about it. Figured we’d just go out and have fun, you know?”

She flashes me her crooked grin. “I like fun. Fun works.” Then she notices the awkward expressions coming back at us. “Ava, you gonna have fun tonight? Because you look like you might fucking hurl.”

“I think all the hot air in here is just getting to me. I’ll be fine.” She leans into Blaise’s shoulder, burying her face in his shirt and I can’t help but wonder if she’s biting him to keep from saying what she’s thinking. Judging by the way half of hisface twitches when she disappears back there, I’m probably not too far off in my assumptions.

Meanwhile, I’m not about to look at Hudson. Although, even without facing him, I notice his leg has moved and is no longer pressed against mine. It could be meaningless; except I know it isn’t. It’s only the beginning. He’s pulling away from me. But I tell myself repeatedly that it’s just for tonight and that I’ll be able to undo any damage I cause. He’ll be pissed, but he’ll get over it.

When we arrive at the EMAs, Blaise and Ava are the first to get out. Followed by Derek and Sammy, then Angel and Petra. Leaving me with my date and my boyfriend for last. I can’t get out of that fucking limo fast enough. I know the second we hit the red carpet, everything else will fade away. Ava’s glare. Hudson’s cold distance. Everything will blur in the noise and chaos of fans and media people.

The flash of cameras blinds me the moment I step out of the car and it’s the best fucking feeling ever. Not because I relish being the center of attention. I hate that actually, but because it makes me feel invisible, ironically. It’s like that stupid thing you do when you’re a kid and you cover your eyes saying, ‘you can’t see me’. Total bullshit. But that’s how it feels. I can’t see you. So, clearly, I’m hidden.

This is the same way. Unable to make out much of anything other than the bright red path that lies ahead, I smile and wave and just keep on walking in the safety of the lights.

It isn’t until I hear my name being shouted by one of the reporters doing interviews along the way that I grab Francis by the hand and pull her toward me, knowing Hudson will be right there as well.

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