Page 27 of Dirty Like Me
“Just the band,” he said as we slid up to a red light. “Some media. And a bunch of people Brody invited that you don’t need to worry about. We’ll be in the VIP room.”
“The new band?” I kind of hoped and prayed that’s what he meant. The thought of spending the night with the members of his new solo project band, whoever they were, seemed far less daunting than hanging out with the members of Dirty. According to Devi’s intel, only Jesse still lived in Vancouver, where Dirty got their start; the other band members lived in L.A., but I had no idea what to expect tonight.
“Both of them, actually,” he said.
Well, shit.
Would Elle be there?
“Do they know about this?” I asked. “Us?”
“Only what we tell them.”
“You haven’t told them?”
“That I’m paying you to pretend to be my girlfriend? Not so much.”
“So… they think we’re really together?”
“They will when I show up with you.”
Holy shit. This was getting real.
Jesse’s gaze had fixed on something up ahead, and I followed his line of sight. It was a bus shelter. One wall held a glass-encased ad featuring a gorgeous brunette model wearing jeans, sunglasses, lipstick and not much else.
“So,” I asked as traffic got moving again, “why me? I mean, you could have anyone. You could have her.” I indicated the model as we drove past.
“That’s my sister,” he said, his tone a little gruff.
“Yoursister?” I rubbernecked to get a better look. Of course Jesse Mayes would have a model for a sister. But too late; the Ferrari had already left the shelter in its rear view. “Will she be there tonight?”
“She’s in L.A..”
“What’s her name?”
His lips quirked a little. “Jessa.”
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t help a laugh. “Jesse and Jessa?”
Again, the hint of a smile. “Uh-huh. I guess my mom felt bad that our dad left while she was pregnant. So she let me name the baby. I wanted to name her Jesse, but Mom said I had to pick something else, since that was already my name. I picked Jessa. I was four.” He glanced at me. “Guess you should know all that, since we’re a couple.”
I tried to pretend I didn’t like the sound of that, but I couldn’t deny the little warm spot that story ignited in my chest and the several miles warmer I felt toward him after hearing it.
God, I was such a sap. I just had to remind myself, and keep reminding myself, that this was all fake. All of it.
No matter what happened between us… or seemed to happen.
Anything he said to me, he was saying out of obligation. Protecting the lie he’d invented himself, for his public image, for the sole purpose of selling albums and concert tickets.
And I didn’t like the idea of pretending to be something I wasn’t, but for the tune of two hundred grand and a chance to get my life on track, I’d promised Devi—and myself—I’d try.
“Right,” I said. “Well, since we’re a couple. My sister’s name is Becca, short for Rebecca. She’s ten years older than me.”
“That’s a gap.”
“Yeah, I was sort of the ’oops’ baby my parents had in their late thirties.”
“Any other family?”
