One Night With The Wrong Brother

The champagne bottle was empty. Kylie was flushed and loud.

"This place is dying down," Kylie announced, clapping her hands. "We should go to Nightingale Plaza. I know the promoter."

Gus leaned back, spinning his gold lighter on the table. "I'm tired."

"Oh, come on, Gus!" Kylie whined. She grabbed his arm. "Don't be a grandpa. Besides..." She turned her gaze to Katherine, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Kat can sing for us. Did you know she sings? She's terrible at acting, but she has a voice."

Katherine's head snapped up. "Kylie, no."

"Why not?" Kylie laughed. "Gus hasn't heard you. Maybe he can put you in his movie if you impress him. Sing something, Kat. Right now."

"We are in a restaurant," Katherine hissed. "I am not a circus animal."

"Oh, don't be such a prude," Kylie sneered. "Just a few bars. Sing that song you're always humming in the shower."

The table fell silent. People at nearby tables were looking. Katherine felt like she was shrinking, disappearing. She felt naked.

"Sing," Kylie commanded.

Katherine looked at Gus. She pleaded with her eyes. Help me.

Gus looked at her. He saw the panic. He saw the humiliation.

His hand slammed down on the lighter.

BANG.

The sound was startlingly loud. Kylie jumped.

"I have no interest," Gus said, his voice cold and hard as steel, "in listening to an amateur performance."

Kylie blinked. "I was just-"

"It's pathetic," Gus said. He didn't look at Kylie. He looked straight at Katherine. "Begging for attention in a restaurant. Have some self-respect."

The words were a slap in the face. He had stopped Kylie, yes. But he had done it by crushing Katherine.

A wave of nausea rolled over Katherine. It started in her stomach and rose to her throat-acidic and hot. It was the same sickness she had felt that morning in the Hamptons.

She stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor.

"Excuse me," she choked out. "Restroom."

She grabbed her purse and ran. She didn't look back.

If she had, she would have seen Gus watching her go. She would have seen his hand clenched into a fist on the table, the knuckles white.

"She's so dramatic," Kylie huffed, reaching for her glass. "She has zero thick skin."

Gus turned his head slowly to look at Kylie. His eyes were dark, terrifying voids.

"Check," he barked at a passing waiter.

He threw a black American Express card onto the tray. He didn't wait for the bill.

"We're leaving," Gus said.

"But Nightingale..." Kylie started.

"Now," Gus said. The tone of his voice brooked no argument. It was the voice of a man hanging onto his control by a thread.

Katherine splashed cold water on her face. Her hands were shaking. In the mirror, her eyes were red-rimmed, her lipstick smudged.

Pull it together, Kat.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Kylie: We're out front. Hurry up.

Katherine typed back: Not feeling well. Going home.

She couldn't face him again. She couldn't sit in a car with him.

She slipped out the side door of the restaurant, bypassing the valet stand. The cool night air hit her face, but it didn't help the nausea.

She opened the Uber app. $85. Surge pricing.

She stared at the screen. That was her grocery budget for two weeks.

She closed the app and started walking toward Santa Monica Boulevard. The bus stop was three blocks away.

As she reached the corner, a line of cars pulled out of the Catch valet.

The black Escalade was second in line.

Katherine froze on the sidewalk.

Gus was in the front passenger seat this time. The window was down. He was looking out, scanning the street.

His eyes found her instantly.

She stood under the harsh light of a streetlamp, looking like a discarded doll.

Gus's hand moved to the door handle. The car slowed down. For a second, Katherine thought he was going to jump out.

"Gus, what are you looking at?" Kylie's voice drifted from the back seat.

Gus stiffened. He looked at Katherine one last time. His expression was unreadable-a mix of anger and something that looked painfully like longing.

Then he turned away. The car sped up, merging into the traffic.

Katherine watched it go.

She walked to the bus stop. The bench was sticky. A man in a torn coat was muttering to himself nearby.

The bus arrived, wheezing and rattling. Katherine climbed on, swiping her pass. The air inside smelled of stale sweat and disinfectant.

She sat in the back, resting her forehead against the cold glass.

Four years ago, she had been in a limousine with him. She had been a princess. Now she was here.

And he was still a king. A cruel, heartless king.

Thunder rumbled overhead. The sky opened up.

Rain.

Of course. It always rained when Gus Riddle broke her heart.

The bus dropped her off two blocks from the apartment. The rain was torrential now, a curtain of water hammering the pavement.

Katherine didn't have an umbrella. She put her purse over her head and ran.

Her cheap flats slapped against the wet concrete. She was soaked to the bone in seconds.

As she rounded the corner to her building, she saw brake lights.

The Escalade was parked in front of her building.

Katherine skidded to a halt. She ducked behind a large hedge, her heart pounding.

The passenger door opened. An umbrella-huge, black, and sturdy-emerged first.

Gus stepped out. He opened the umbrella effortlessly.

He walked around to the back door and opened it. Kylie stepped out, giggling.

She moved into his space immediately. Gus held the umbrella over her. He tilted it so she was completely covered.

But in doing so, he left himself exposed.

The rain hammered down on Gus's left shoulder. within seconds, his expensive t-shirt was soaked, clinging to his arm. He didn't seem to notice. He just held the umbrella steady for Kylie.

Katherine watched from the bushes, shivering violently. It was such a small gesture. So gentlemanly. So Gus.

He walked Kylie to the door. Kylie turned to him. She stood on her tiptoes, her hands on his chest.

From Katherine's angle, hidden in the dark, it looked like their faces merged.

A kiss.

Katherine clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. The pain was physical. It felt like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart until it burst.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't watch.

After a moment, the lobby door opened and closed.

Katherine opened her eyes.

Gus was still standing there. Alone. In the rain.

He hadn't gone inside.

He folded the umbrella. He stood by the car, water dripping from his hair. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the lighter and a cigarette. He lit it, shielding the flame with his hand.

He took a deep drag, the cherry of the cigarette glowing bright red in the darkness.

He turned his head. He looked straight at the hedge where Katherine was hiding.

He couldn't possibly see her. It was pitch black.

But he stared at that spot for a long, long time.

Then, he threw the cigarette into a puddle. He got into the car. The engine roared, and he drove away.