The Layers of His Mask

11. This Isn't The Red Carpet

Alex's POV

A day of lounging around and doing nothing has got to have its perks. However, having Tom constantly call me and ask about the girl from the formal outfit shop has been driving me abso-f*****g-lutely insane. He doesn't know how to take no for an answer. My phone vibrates beside me on my couch and the name 'Tom' along with the picture that he personally took of himself making a kissy face pops up on my screen.

"What, Tom?" I growl into the receiver.

"Would you at least consider having her call me? I mean, just pass my number along. Or better yet, give me hers and I can do all the schmoozing myself since you appear to be of no help whatsoever."

"Dude...I don't have her number so take a f*****g clue and stop. She's not interested." The volume of my voice raises on the last sentence. I want to indicate to him that there is no way in hell Rebecca would even think about going out on a date with him.

Or would she?

"And who might she be interested in? You? I think not, or at least not from what you've told me. Now I'll admit, it wasn't my best first impression, but I think with time she could grow to love me quite a bit."

"Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?"

"Maybe myself more than you, but I really like that girl. She's a feisty little number."

"Trust me, I know. Now shut the f**k up and stop calling me." I hang up, tossing my phone on the couch, and head to the kitchen to fix myself something to eat.

Omelette or Frittata? That is the real question here. I have all the required ingredients for an omelette, so omelette it is. I take my eggs, butter, bell peppers, ham, and shredded sharp cheddar from the fridge, placing them neatly on the counter-top. Mise en place one oh one. I dice my peppers and ham, combining them together in a small bowl by the stove while my frying pan heats up. Once it's heated I deposit a cube of butter, swirling it around to coat the entirety of the pan. Next I pour in my whisked egg and let it cook just enough to where I can fold it and toss in my peppers, ham, and cheese - folding the egg over to complete the remaining cooking process. I slide the egg onto my plate, pour myself a cup of orange juice and make my way back to the living room couch. Just as I'm about to dig into my plate, my phone rings once again. It's none other than Tom I'm sure, now he will hear my mouth. I jab the answer button on my screen and press the phone to my ear.

"Stop calling my phone or I will personally bang down your hotel door and f**k you up. After that I will leak your whereabouts to all your fans so they know where I laid you out."

"Well that's not very nice." Natalie's soft voice comes through on the other end and I drop my plate on the wooden floor, causing a huge mess that I will now have to clean up.

"Oh f**k - I mean s**t. Oh God, I'm so sorry Natalie I thought you were my friend Tom." Why did I not bother to check the caller id before I answered? It makes me appear to be a complete asshole. Well according to Rebecca you already are one, so what's one more participant added to the party?

"It's okay, Alex, I've heard these words before. But I actually wanted to call you and ask you if you would mind escorting Rebecca to the chef gala this afternoon? If you don't I completely understand, but I just don't want her going out alone since her father won't be present for most of it."

"Uh...did you ask her if she's okay with this?" I have a very hard time believing that Rebecca agreed to any of this.

"I did. She refused at first but she agreed to have you pick her up around four."

I walk to the kitchen, gathering the broom and dust pan, return to the living room then bend down to sweep up the mess. "Uh, okay. Well if you could text me her address when I hang up that'd be great."

"I will. Thank you so much, Alex."

I tell her you're welcome and I hang up. I suddenly lose my sense of appetite and have it replaced by nerves. I'm legitimately going to throw up. I mean it crossed my mind briefly that this would be a possible scenario, yet I can't shake the rising anxiety that is settling at the pit of my stomach. Man the f**k up Alex. It's just Rebecca. You've never been this nervous around her before, why start now?

Uh, maybe because I have recently started developing feelings for her and the sight of her in that dress the other day was enough to haunt my every waking daydream and thought.

There I go again, thinking about her in that damn dress. How the f**k am I even going to get through this night with my sanity and composure still intact?

It's called self control, Alex. Ever heard of it?

"Fuck." I bring my hands up to cup my face in them and then drag them down, exhaling a deep breath that it appears I have been withholding from myself.

Wait, what? Did you just say you're 'developing feelings'? For Rebecca?!

The phone rings once again in my lap, bringing me to reality. I glance at the caller id first this time and immediately I wish I hadn't.

What the f**k does she want?

"Can I help you?"

"What is your problem?" She laughs into the speaker, the sound making me cringe. It's nothing like Rebecca's.

"The fact that you're calling me is my problem. Now what the f**k do you want?"

"Are you coming over tonight?"

"No. I told you I have something to do tonight. And besides, we're done. Why the hell can't you just accept that and move on?"

"We didn't particularly end things mutually considering you were just in my bed last week and then, you just, all of a sudden, are done and now I'm nothing to you. How the hell do you think that makes me feel Alex?"

"You're insane, you know that? I told you I didn't want to continue doing this with you because I'm tired of the meaningless f*****g. Was that not enough of an explanation for you? So can you do me a favor and keep the hell away from me unless it's an absolute dire emergency?"

"You know it's not possible to 'keep the hell away' from you everyday."

"You know what I mean. The point is, we broke it off and then we had a few f***s here and there. But I'm tired of it now. I'm done. So just find someone else to toy around with."

"You're an ass."

"So I've heard."

"You'll be back, I guarantee you. And when you are done fawning over whoever the hell you are fawning over, you'll see that I'm still here and she won't be."

***

Rebecca's POV

"You did what mom?!"

"I told him that you needed a date for the gala and to pick you up at four."

"Oh my God," I groan, pressing my palm to my forehead, "this is not happening."

"Sweetheart, you will be fine. It's just Alex."

Oh, but dear mother, this is not just Alex. It's freaking Alex, the guy who single handedly can make my insides liquefy and give me a migraine all at the same time. He used to rile me up, still does, but we are on better terms now. Yet, that doesn't mean there's not...something more.

There's...there's attraction...

He's like s*x on a plate and I can't handle him for six straight hours, it's too much! Especially when he will be all made up in a suit and tie. I have to consume him in small doses like you would sugar, I can't just go in with one large dose of the needle.

Jesus! Are you 'crushing' on him, Rebecca?!

These are the times when I wish I had my usual stash of Starburst stuffed in my end table drawer. They would probably be the only thing that could calm my frantic state at this point.

"Mom, you don't understand. Alex is a bit of an ego maniac and we butt heads all the time. It won't be a good idea to have me ride there with him and then spend almost six hours with him in a room full of people."

"Uh, stop fussing, Becca. It's not like you have to stay with him the entire night! He's not your date, just someone to escort you there, like a friend. Since your dad can't this year, it's just convenient to have someone you know do that instead of a stranger. He's a close friend of the family and a trusted man by your father who also happens to go to the gala. Simple."

"Tim could take me there -"

"He would, if he could. He has some things he has to take care of. You really think we'd ask Alex if we had a choice?"

"Uggghhhhhhh! Fine. I gotta go, mom, bye."

***

"What happened now?" Hannah asks me, flipping through the channels on the television and landing on Hell's Kitchen.

I sigh. "My mom told Alex to pick me up at four for the chef gala this afternoon," I mutter.

"What?! She got you a date with 'man candy'? Score!"

I narrow my eyes in her direction. "How the hell is that a score? First, it's not a date and also, me and him barely get along when we're not arguing."

"Because he's hot, and you're hot, and yeah... that's all I got." She shrugs.

"Lame...those aren't even legitimate reasons."

***

"How much longer of this? My legs are starting to fall asleep on me." I shift in my chair, trying to find a mutual point where the chair won't temporarily cut off blood circulation to my thighs.

"Stay still dammit," she angrily demands. "Just give me five more minutes. Doing hair takes time you know, and besides, it needs to look absolutely perfect for man candy tonight."

I glance down at my phone. "But we have like fifteen minutes before he shows up. He's very punctual so I won't be surprised if he shows up at exactly four o'clock." I bounce my knee up and down repeatedly.

"Move one more time and I'll break your legs."

"Rude," I counter, mouth gaped open.

"Impatient," she fires back. I glare at her reflection through the large mirror on the back of my bedroom door.

"Don't give me that look." She finishes up curling the last few sections of my hair and then braids my hair to one side, leaving a few strands out.

The doorbell rings from the other room and Hannah passes me my dress from the closet. "I'll go get the door, you finish getting ready. I'll keep him occupied - if you know what I mean." She winks at me before departing the room.

I shake my head and laugh. I slip on my dress and heels, grab my invitation, and take one final glance in the mirror. Time for a much needed pep talk. "You can do this, Rebecca. You only have to spend a couple of hours with him and then you are done, that's it. Maybe you'll actually have fun tonight and he won't be a complete ass." I straighten my dress and leave the room.

I enter the living room and Hannah has Alex laughing which is something I barely manage to do myself. So how is it he can laugh with her, but he can't with me?

He makes eye contact with me and smiles. He does look really handsome, far more different than his usual attire of black on black chef pants and chef coat. I mean technically he is still wearing black on black, but he's just in a suit. He also cleaned up his beard so it's not so much caveman, but more contained.

I just want to reach out and touch it.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Huh?" I make eye contact with him as soon as I pull myself from my own thoughts.

"You just said you want to reach out and touch it?" his brows pull together and he looks highly amused.

This conversation just took a sharp turn left.

"No I didn't."

"Yeah, you did."

"Want to touch what exactly?" Hannah chimes in. She sitting on the sofa, legs and arms crossed, awaiting my answer.

"You look handsome," I divert, mustering up the best smile I can manage at the moment. There's no way in hell I'm letting him know my deep most inner thoughts about him. He will never let me forget it if I do.

"Thanks..." he nods, "and you look beautiful by the way. I was going to tell you until that whole ordeal happened just now." he stuffs his hands in his pockets and cast his eyes to the floor, the room falls silent.

"I'm ready if you are," I tell him, putting some enthusiasm into my voice. Hannah is just milking all of this in right now. If she could replay this whole moment over and over in her mind just for her own personal pleasure, I have no doubt in my mind that she would.

"Uh, yep." I head for the door and when I look back Hannah is grinning so widely that I won't be surprised if she gets a headache from it sooner or later. I envision myself kicking her. I glare at her one last time before locking the door and heading down the stairs to Alex's car.

We approach his car and I decide I'm going to bring up the fact that he agreed to bring me to the gala, once we are safely inside the confinements of his car. He opens the door for me and then walks around to the other side before starting the engine.

We're on the road to the gala before I know it and now is the time, while he is abnormally silent. "Why did you agree to escort me to the gala tonight?"

"I'm just doing your mother a favor. She asked me to escort you and I happily obliged. Is that a crime?" It can't just be that simple, Alex is abnormally stubborn when it comes to certain situations.

"No. But I really don't want to argue tonight, so lets just drop it." My eyes drift over to the window

"Fine by me."

Is it really that simple for him to just drop the conversation completely and not even try to see if anything is wrong with me? Does he even care?

What does it matter to 'you' if he cares or not?!

I choose to ignore that comment in my mind and we drive the rest of the way in complete silence. I have to sort through my thoughts right now. One thing being why I got jealous when he was laughing with Hannah, and why he doesn't even seem phased by my sudden change in mood.

Could it be possible that I'm starting to develop feelings for this man?

My mind is all screwed up right now and it didn't happen until I laid eyes on him those few minutes ago.

***

The ominous, well lit brick building comes into view and people are piling out of cars, and making their way into the building, camera flashes appear while complimentary valets park their cars. Alex pulls up next to the curb and I stiffen in my seat.

The idea of fame scares me, and the fact that there are paparazzi outside taking photos just outside the car makes me want to turn right around and go home.

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, placing a hand on my knee.

"I'm fine." I give him a small smile that doesn't quite meet my eyes.

"Is it the cameras?"

"Yeah. I grew up around them yet they still scare the hell out of me," I smirk. "I don't like that the media knows just as much about my life as I do and that you can pretty much Google me and bam, there are my pictures."

His grip on my thigh tightens, but not to the point of uncomfortability. "Rebecca...if you don't want to go in there, we don't have to. We can turn around right now and just go somewhere else."

"No. This is to raise money for charity and I'm not missing out on this opportunity to help people in need." It's true. I'll risk my picture being taken, I'll risk potential dating rumors that will come of this night if it means that somewhere out there, someone is benefiting from me being here.

"Okay."

***

Alex's POV

We are inside now after fighting our way past all those bastard paparazzi and their f*****g cameras. They weren't actually near us since the security detail were actually doing their jobs tonight by keeping them behind the ropes.

I could tell by the way Rebecca was tensed up, practically clawing her way through the arm of my suit jacket with her excruciatingly long fingernails, that she wanted to enter this building as quickly as possible.

We head to the international ballroom first for a thirty-minute speech about the importance of donating and 'having fun' tonight and not forgetting about the meaning for being here.

Like seriously, what the f**k? We knew what we were getting into the minute we stepped foot inside this damn building. After that whole load of thirty-minute bull crap, all us 'VIP' guests are now joined by the other guests.

The cocktail reception gets into full swing when wine and other variations of alcohol are dispersed and hor d'oeuvres are set up on a few buffet tables along the far wall. I can't believe people are actually sitting here getting drunk off of f*****g champagne and wine coolers. There is zero point three percent alcohol is those small ass bottles of juice - which is close to none by the way. You could drink a whole case of those damn things - if you're not a light weight - and not even feel a buzz off of it.

I glance over to Rebecca and she appears to be enjoying herself, bobbing her head to the fast-paced music, smiling and laughing to herself, watching people dance like they are having uncontrollable body spasms. Some people just don't need to dance, save yourself the embarrassment dude because nine times out of ten no one in here is staring at you for your stellar dance moves.

Another thirty minutes fly by and Rebecca has yet to utter a word to me. I don't know what the f**k to do because, whenever I ask if she's okay, she just gives me a small smile and an, "I'm okay". How the hell am I supposed to work with that?

Maybe I could ask her to dance. Women like that sort of thing right?

"Alex?" The sound of her voice pulls me from my racing thoughts.

I jerk my head up. "Yeah?"

"You've been staring at that piece of shrimp on your plate for the past twenty minutes. Are you going to eat it or burn a hole in it?"

"She speaks!"

She giggles and rolls her eyes at me. "Yeah, I'm kind of bored," she whispers. "I don't remember it being this boring last year."

"Are you calling me boring?" I fake like I'm offended, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you loser," she laughs, "I'm bored of this place."

"Wanna go outside?" I ask her. "That's where the real party is. We can come back in once all this madness is over with. "

"Sure."

We sneak out the back of the building and go sit on a ledge just outside the building limits overlooking the highway. The light from the moon cast on her face in just the right way and she looks f*****g breathtaking. It's taking all my self control right now not to kiss her. She'd probably push me over this damn ledge if I even tried to. I'd break every damn bone in my body and she would laugh before calling for help while I lay paralyzed on the hot ass concrete. But I made a silent promise to her and myself while we were sitting in my car that I would not make this night miserable for her.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks.

"Do you want an honest answer or a fabricated version of the truth?"

"Honest." Of course she does, because she always tells me the honest truth.

"You."

"Me?" she says, quietly.

"Yes. You. You are like a Rubik's cube and it is making me crazy that I can't figure you out."

"What do you want to know?" Well this is obvious.

"What's your favorite food?"

"Starburst," she giggles.

I'm laughing now, that answer is the most ridiculous thing I've heard. But that explains why I always find Starburst wrappers littered around the kitchen floor. She's gonna be cleaning that s**t up for now on. "Starburst is not a food, it's junk!"

She narrows her eyes at me. "Don't judge me, it is on my food pyramid. Right at the bottom next to the fruits and vegetables you will find a bag of Starburst candies. What about you, favorite food?"

"Chocolate." I bite my lower lip to stifle my grin. "It's a must have staple food."

"Hypocrite! That's not a food either!" She bursts into laughter, a single tear rolls down her cheek and catch it with my thumb right when it reaches her lips. She slowly closes her eyes while I run that same thumb across her bottom lip, her light breaths fanning across my skin.

I remove my hand from her face. She opens her eyes and blinks once as if trying to steady herself.

"Um, my turn, favorite color?" Her voice comes out shaky.

Did I do that to her?

"Black and navy blue."

"Shocker," she replies, smirking at me.

"Your turn. No wait, let me guess...Red?"

"How did you know that? You've been stalking me haven't you?" She teases.

"Nope. I'm just very observant. And do I need to remind you of the definition of stalker?" I raise a brow in her direction.

Okay I lied, I'm more than observant, I notice everything about her down to the way she wears her hair in a ponytail everyday to work. Or the way her eyes screw shut and her nose scrunches up when she laughs. Or how her smile can light up a room. It's hard not to notice all these little things about her.

"No, I do not want your Websters dictionary definition thank you very much."

"Just thought I'd ask."

"Okay, I have another question. If you were another person, would you be friends with you?"

"That's a no-brainer...of course. I'm f*****g amazing."

"Conceited."

"Judgmental," I retort. She narrows her eyes at me and a devilish grins crosses her lips.

We continue to talk for what feels like hours out here, but in actuality it's only been one hour.

Surround You by Echosmith plays through the outside speakers and her face lights up when she hears it. Could this be her favorite song?

You can do this Alex. Prove to her that you are not always a jerk one hundred percent of the time.

I stand and she looks up at me with those wide hazel eyes that will more than likely be the death of me one day. I extend my hand to her, helping her off the ledge, she takes it willingly. I place my right hand on her back, cupping her shoulder blade, I then take her right hand with my left. I have her position her left hand lightly up on my shoulder.

I teach her the moves to a basic box step -that my mother taught me - and we move in time to the music. She catches on fairly quickly. Once she's comfortable enough with the moves we begin to travel around just when the pace of the music speeds up and we completely forget about the rehearsed moves and just let the music guide us.

Being in such close proximity with her is slowly peeling the lid off my self control. Her signature scent of lavender and honey invades my nostrils. I want to kiss her so badly when she's like this: laughing and staring up into my eyes with such trust and intensity. The music is completely forgotten about once the song speeds up again, somewhere in the midst of it all, we stopped dancing.

We are just standing here now. I step closer and she lets me, taking her face in my hands I run my thumbs across her cheeks. Her eyes are hooded, I dip my head down, placing my lips to hers. Her mouth still has the faint taste of a peach wine cooler she had consumed earlier. I've never had a first kiss with anyone feel quite like this so when I pull away I think she felt it too when she pulls my face back down for another.

"Hey! You two, back inside. The dinner portion of the night is about to begin and we need everyone present for when they pass out awards."

Go the f**k away. Your voice is annoying as s**t and you are ruining something very special here.

"We gotta go," she whispers against my lips.

"Okay," I whisper back.

We turn around, and make our way back to the reception hall. Before we enter the room I take my thumb and wipe the lipstick away that she left on my lips.

Mostly everyone has taken their seats by the time we enter the room, we find ours just when the host takes the microphone. While she's making the announcement to introduce Russell Daniels who will present the Jean Banchet awards for culinary excellence, waiters come around with menus displaying drink and entrée choices. I go with the steak roulade and Rebecca excitedly chooses coconut shrimp out of all the things.

Russell takes the stage to present the first award. An eruption of applause and howls of praise escape the crowd and I join in at first but when it lingers on longer than necessary I shout, "shut the hell up!", receiving gasps of horror and a covert giggle from Rebecca.

"Thank you for that outburst, Alex," he laughs. I raise my glass of wine in response with a triumphant smirk on display. "This first award goes out to someone who has took the culinary industry by storm. They've shown drive and passion and showcased skills way beyond their years. I have had the sheer pleasure of working with them at the beginning of their career and I'm so happy to have been a part of it. Even if I taught him everything he knows." A few laughs are heard and a quick glare from me shuts them all down immediately when they threaten to continue. "Ladies and gentlemen please join me in congratulating Alex Brooks for being the first recipient tonight of the Jean Banchet award for culinary excellence."

What?

"Alex, get up," Rebecca says next to me, shoving my shoulder.

"Oh, shit...right." I straighten my suit jacket and saunter up to the stage to collect my award. Russell places the medal around my neck, I approach the mic for a quick speech. "Uh...well this was completely unexpected and I'm not good with speeches, so I'm gonna make this quick. I knew I was nominated, but I didn't think I'd actually win anything. This is a huge honor. Thank You."

I take my seat again and Russell finishes up presenting the last of the awards. They have us us all take a picture together, showcasing our medals. And when the food starts hitting tables I couldn't be more relieved to get away from all the attention that I have been receiving since I accepted the award.

Russell has truly outdone himself with this food. Then again, when does he never outdo himself? Ten minutes into eating and Rebecca start clearing her throat, and coughing profusely. She then begins scratching her ear and I think her face is bloating. I place down my fork and turn to her fully.

"Uh, Rebecca are you allergic to anything?"

"Not that I know of. Why?" she scratches her ear.

"I think you may be allergic to the shrimp." she stares at me in horror then frantically starts digging through her purse and whips out some sort of compact mirror. Her fingers run over her face, her ears, and last...her lips.

"Oh my God. We need to go. Now!"

(So sorry for the extremely long wait you guys, but like I said I've been moving and working and I really haven't had much time to write. But I managed to put this chapter together in a day and a half! I feel so proud of myself. Anyway, I digress. Love you guys, hope you all enjoyed the chapter! By the way the video on the side is the song that Becca and Alex danced to and the picture is the suit Alex wore to the gala. Enjoy! I know I did ;)