His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,51
wasn’t drowning was when you were helping me. But after a while, you moved clear across the country, and I barely heard from you. I figured it was because you wanted to make a fresh start with your music career, but then you started doing the same job. Just not for me.”
“It’s not like I wanted to keep working as an assistant,” I said, as the light changed and he rolled through the intersection. “I just haven’t been able to get my career off the ground.”
“I own a recording studio, Phoenix. It would have been so easy to let me produce an album for you, but every time I offered, you acted like I was insulting you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Why not?”
“I want to make it on my own, not because my famous twin took pity on me,” I muttered.
“Why do you assume it’s pity?”
“What else would it be?”
“I wanted to produce your album because you’re a fucking brilliant singer and songwriter,” he said. “I also wanted to do that for you because you deserve it. You’ve been busting your ass for years, and if you’d just let me give you a little push—”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” I said, as we pulled up in front of a trendy, high-end hotel. We climbed out of the car, and while I tried to fix my wind-blown hair, my brother spoke to the valet and slipped him some cash.
As we stepped into the gaudy gold-and-white lobby, Dallas said, “If you don’t want to talk about how epically stubborn you are, let’s talk about what had you so upset when I found you wandering down the street.”
“I was taking a walk, not wandering down the street.”
“Okay, but something was definitely bothering you.”
“I just ended a…well, not a relationship.” I thought about that, then continued, “Basically, I’d started dating a great guy, but it wasn’t going to work out, so I broke it off before I got too attached.”
“You were obviously already attached. It was written all over your face.”
“Yeah, I was. I am. But he was never going to be on the same page, so I had to cut my losses.”
“I feel like I’m getting about ten percent of the story here,” Dallas said. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
While we rode an elevator to the top floor and he let us into his suite, I told him about Harper and our last few days together (minus the more graphic details). When I finished, my brother asked, “Remember when I was in L.A. a couple of years ago, and you introduced me to Harper?”
“Uh, yeah. And then you two started dating. How could I forget?”
“Before he and I went out, I asked you point-blank if you had a problem with me dating him, and you swore you didn’t. But I don’t think you were being truthful with me or yourself,” he said. “I think you might have had a crush on him even then.”
“I did.”
While we were talking, I released the chicken, and she just stood there staring up at me. I went over to the wet bar and filled a glass to the rim with bottled water, and I put it on the floor for her before raiding a lavish gift basket. Meanwhile, Dallas threw his hands in the air and asked, “Then why didn’t you tell me not to go out with him?”
As I sliced an apple with my pocket knife, placed it on a napkin, and put it on the floor for the chicken, I said, “If it wasn’t you, it’d just be someone else.”
“You still should have told me you had feelings for him.”
“There was no point.”
He said, “Do you know what Harper did when we went out to dinner? He talked about you the entire time.”
“He did?”
Dallas dragged his hands over his face and muttered, “You’re both disasters. Seriously. I think the only reason he even expressed an interest in me is because I look like you, and you were constantly shooting him down. I let it go on for a while, because let’s face it, he’s gorgeous and I was flattered by all the flowers and gifts while I was out on tour. But after a while, I got tired of once again being treated like a poor substitute for my perfect twin.”
The laugh that slipped from me sounded harsher than I’d intended it. “Yeah, right. I’m the perfect twin, and you’re the one who gets treated like a poor substitute.”
“That’s how it felt growing