I’d seen pictures of it before. And I knew the word grand meant big, yet I’d never imagined it could be so huge. I felt like a speck in a plunging rock sea. The world had suddenly become layered stacks of orange and brown.
I gasped and leaned closer to the window. "It’s amazing."
"Better than pizza and a DVD?"
I squeezed his hand, but kept my gaze out the window. The helicopter made a lazy descent so that the canyon walls seemed to reach up and surround us. "You know, you've set a really bad precedent for first dates,’’ I said. "How is anyone ever going to top this?”
I turned to him for the first time. He was watching me, not the scenery. "I brought you here because I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw this place.” He smiled, and my heart flipped over. "It was worth the trip.”
Eventually, the helicopter landed in a remote spot. We wouldn’t have to worry about being seen down here. The pilot handed us a couple of backpacks with water, sunscreen, and hats. Then we stepped out into the vast landscape of towering rock walls. The Colorado River stretched out before us.
I knew long before Grant took hold of my hand again that my plan to remain emotionally uninvolved had disappeared somewhere among the layers of sun-baked stone.
* * *
The nice thing about Kari having surgery when she was supposed to be working was that Maren felt compelled to spend nearly every day of the next two weeks with her, "helping her concentrate on her music.” It must not have been an easy task. Whenever she came back at night, it took her a while to unclamp her jaws. Even when she was home, she was always busy talking to Kari’s agent, publicist, bodyguard, or choreographer. If I walked by Maren's office, I heard snippets about photo shoots, interviews, or concert paraphernalia. Since I didn’t have any looming road trips, she hardly paid any attention to me.
Also, because Kari still had bruising and swelling from her nose job, she stayed out of the public eye, which meant I didn’t have to worry about inadvertently creating multiple Kari sightings.
On most days after I finished my homework, workout, and dancing lessons, I'd tell Maren I was going shopping. Then I'd have Bao-Zhi drop me off at Rodeo Drive, and Grant would pick me up so we could do something together. Bao-Zhi was making a killing in tips.
A few times I took Nikolay along and actually went shopping. I bought some Prada jeans and designer tops. I had to in order for Maren not to get suspicious. Besides, they fit me perfectly, and a girl has to look her best for someone like Grant Delray.
But most of my shopping time actually consisted of eating at ultra-private restaurants with Grant or hanging out at his house in Malibu. Like Kari, he had a fence and a gate around his house to keep the press at a distance. So we could swim at his pool or even play basketball in his driveway. He always let me cheat at basketball, and I usually still lost. I didn't mind. For me, the point of the game was to watch his biceps in action.
Once we put on hats and sunglasses and went hiking in Topanga Canyon. It felt dangerous and just a little bit wicked to be out in the open where a passing hiker might recognize us. Things I wouldn't have thought twice about in West Virginia had suddenly become risky.
I made excuses to keep him away from Kari’s place. "The paparazzi have been watching my house like crazy," I told him.
I knew I couldn't make this last. Every time we were together, I wanted to tell him the truth but was afraid it would be over between us as soon as he found out who I really was.
Kissing him was addictive. I had never fallen for a guy so quickly or so deeply. The term "falling in love” made perfect sense now. It did feel like free-falling—fast and thrilling, but leaving nothing to hang on to, no way to stabilize myself. Everything was beyond my control.
I couldn't even persuade myself to be logical and say, Hey, maybe there’s another guy out there somewhere I’d like even better. This was Grant Delray. Handsome, talented, rich—hundreds of thousands of girls worshiped him, and they didn’t even know the rest—that he was also down-to-earth and smart and could make people laugh anytime he wanted.
Besides, everything would change in a few weeks when I met my father. I would wait to see what happened there, then decide how to break the news to Grant.
CHAPTER 13
During the last week of April, I went out on another five- day tour of short concerts. Maren had underestimated how many jobs I’d be able to do for Kari when she first offered me the job. Kari's popularity was on the rise, and everyone wanted her at their events. At that point, I had a staggering $68,000 in my bank account. Kari’s casino debts would have been nearly paid off with the revenue I’d brought in, except that Maren had to use a lot of the earnings to pay off credit cards and back taxes.
I offered to buy my mom a new car, but she refused to take my money. Which was perhaps why I couldn't bring myself to spend much of it. For all my angst over being poor, now that I had money, the only things I wanted to buy were things for her.
When I flew back into LA, things got more complicated. I had known that since Kari’s face had healed she’d be out in the public again, but still I hadn't expected to see her on the front of Us Weekly holding hands with Michael. The caption read: Back together again!
Grant put a copy of the magazine in my lap when he picked me up from one of my shopping trips, then looked at me with raised eyebrows.
I stared into his ruggedly handsome face. I could have told him everything. I should have. Instead I shrugged and said, “Must be an old picture."
And he believed me. Just like that, the subject dropped—I hoped for good. After all, Kari and Michael dating again wasn’t that interesting of a story. It had already happened enough times. Besides, the paparazzi couldn't take many new pictures of Kari with Michael. Not while she was tucked out of sight working on her album and practicing for her mega concert.
Two days later, when I went over to Grant's house, he handed me a copy of the National Enquirer. I looked at the sidebar caption that read Kari and Michael are reunited! and my mouth went dry.
I managed a shrug as I handed it back to him. “I beat out reality shows and alien abductions for the cover. Cool.”
He didn't smile. Instead he tilted his chin down. "How come the press keeps reporting that you're back with Michael?”
I forced a smile. "Well, the National Enquirer isn’t known for its accuracy. Which reminds me—how are your plans of world domination coming along?”
I tried to slide into a hug and kiss him, but he put his hands on my shoulders and kept me at arm’s length. His blue eyes clouded with suspicion. "You’re not seeing both of us, are you?"
"No,” I said, but his eyes still had an edge to them.
It suddenly became hard to look at him. I stared at the lettering on his T-shirt, at his neck, at the curve of his shoulder. And even then I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing against my heart.
So this was it. I had to tell him the truth now.
I let my arms drop away from him, then folded them across my chest so they didn't shake. "Here's the thing. I'm sorry I didn’t tell you this before, but I’m not who you think I am. I’m not Kari Kingsley. I’m actually her . . . um . . .” How could I put this? "I’m her half sister from West Virginia that nobody knows about.”