Page 117 of Sinful Like Us
“Not if it’s about protecting her.”
I tip my head. “How come?”
“Security and production don’t always see eye-to-eye when it comes to you and your family. Honestly, my friendship with Akara has stayed intact because we don’t constantly bring up his client and my time filming you all.”
Merde.
I already asked Thatcher for answers, and he said Akara wouldn’t tell him anything since they’re on the outs. Farrow also has no clue what’s changed. He explained,“See, Akara will rarely vent or complain to us. He’s our lead.”
I’ll have to report back theno newnews to Sulli.
Gusts of wind blow harshly through. Jack shivers, zipping a lightweight jacket up to his neck, his skin a tanned blend of red-gold and light brown hues. He’s biracial: his dad is white and his mom is Filipina.
Since he’s born-and-raised in sunny Southern California, he claims he didn’t come prepared for the brutal cold.
Another large gust.
“Fuck,” Jack curses under his breath. Strands of his dark brown hair are airborne—cut short but long enough to take flight and block his eyes.
Mine flaps wildly at my face, and we laugh.
“If only I had one of Oscar’s bandanas,” Jack smiles, trying to push his hair back to no avail.
I set my binder down and retie my hair. “I actually think Oscar may’ve left one in the car.”
“Really?” He tucks his camera more protectively, about to leave.
“I’m almost certain I saw one in the front seat.”
He heads to the descent and smiles back. He makes thehang loosehand gesture. “Shaka brah.”
I wave goodbye, collect my things, and rejoin my boyfriend.
Sheep have given Thatcher and his lasered gaze a wide,wideberth. One is practically cowering behind a rock.
He shoves his phone in his pocket. “We have a problem.”
Before I can ask,myphonerings. He holds my binder for me, and with a gloved hand, I procure my cell from my sequined purse and read the screen.
My brows bunch. “It’s my dad.”
“That’s the problem.” Thatcher gestures to the phone with my binder. “He tried to call Banksthreetimes.”
“And Banks has your phone,” I realize. Meaning, my dad has been trying to reach my boyfriend. “Okay, I can fix this.” I stare wide-eyed at my ringing phone. “I just have to speak to my dad, who is scarily good at catching onto deceit. Though, we’ve tricked him once.” I talk quickly. Nervously. “He didn’t know that you actually had feelings for me. But I suppose that meansyouwere better at pulling the wool over his eyes. Not necessarily me.”
“Jane—”
“Yes?”
“It’s going to ring out.” He nods to my phone.
Oh.“Right.”
“You don’t have to lie to your parents,” Thatcher says strongly. “I know you don’t want to, and I don’t want you to go there.”
“Okay.” I take a single breath in preparation. “I’ll find a non-deceptive avenue if I can.” I answer on the last ring. “Dad?”
He greets, “Mon coeur.”My heart.Hearing his voice causes a small wave of homesickness. There’s no one like my dad, and I love him very much so.
