Still Her (Turn it Up Book 2)

by Natalie Parker

  I sit beside her now, as Mike and Morris prepare to advise us on what we can do about this. I turn towards her, holding one of her hands giving her silent support.

  “So Mayzie, Mike told me what’s been going on, but can you tell me in your own words, your experiences with Eli Costa?”

  Mayzie smiles and gives a gentle nod as she delves in, starting with the plane ride, taking them both through the photo shoot, and ending with the incident at the hotel in Jacksonville. She’s keeping her tone light, like she’s telling them about the weather, which I think she does more for herself than for any of our benefits. Detective Morris pulls out his laptop and starts taking notes, while Mike takes notes on a legal pad. Even though what Mayzie is saying is making my blood boil all over again, I have to hold in a chuckle at seeing Mike dressed like a roadie while seriously taking notes with his lawyer face on.

  “So that’s all of it,” she concludes. “Is there anything that can be done?”

  “Well, I’m afraid it’s like the cops in Florida told you,” Morris begins, leveling us with a serious yet sympathetic gaze. “At this point, there’s not enough to go after him. Plus, I’m out of jurisdiction. But…” he takes a deep breath before looking between us, “this is not the first time I’ve consulted on, or investigated Eli Costa, on the grounds of sexual harassment.”

  Mayzie’s eyes go wide and she draws in a breath. Ron’s face snaps up towards Morris with his mouth open, and my head jerks back in shock. I’m taken aback by the reality that comes crashing down on me when Morris uses those two words out loud, but even more so when I hear that Eli’s name has come across his desk more than once. Although that second one shouldn’t surprise me, what with Eli’s reputation, but it still throws me. I press my lips gently against Mayzie’s temple and she closes her eyes briefly, letting my gesture calm her.

  “I don’t understand,” she shakes her head. “You know who he is?”

  Morris gives a curt nod. “Yeah. You can imagine my surprise when I not only get a call from this guy,” he tilts his head at Mike, “but the name he gives me is none other than…” he finishes with a shake of his head, clearly not over the coincidence.

  “So, there are other cases involving him?” Mayzie presses forward. “Does he have a record?”

  “Other complaints, yes,” Morris confirms, “but they never amounted to anything that would give him a record. He divides his time between L.A. and New York, about sixty/forty. In the last three years, five women have filed reports in my precinct, but none went to court.”

  “Was it because they didn’t have proof? Like me?” Mayzie asks.

  “That is a big part of the reason, yes. In the cases where we had leads, Eli was able to buy a witness’s silence, pay the victim off to drop the charges, or just plain intimidate them with his army of lawyers, leading them to drop the case on their own.”

  “So he covers his tracks well, and in the few cases where a victim has sought out justice and tried to press charges, they’ve gotten cold feet once they’ve gotten a good look at his legal team,” Mike adds.

  “We’ve found a few common trends between cases,” Morris continues. “Each woman had something to lose or gain in the situation, usually struggling to either move up or stay up in the industry. He lures women with promises of what he can do for them, or what he can take away. I’m willing to bet that in the cases that are unreported, he makes them feel indebted. And of course, in each case, there is little to no proof. It always boils down to a ‘he-said-she-said’ situation.” He lets out a sigh before continuing, “In all five cases, we’ve offered to obtain proof by setting up a sting, but by then, three of the victims had been scared away and wanted nothing more to do with it. The other two were all for it, but in their cases, Eli was done with them and had no further interest, thus couldn’t be lured.”

  “How is it that I, nor anyone else at the label, has ever heard about this?” Ron demands.

  “After the cases fizzled out, Eli waved his wallet and had all records sealed.”

  “So then how do you have all this information?” I ask.

  “Memory. I was the detective on these cases and I keep a personal log of every case I investigate, whether it goes to court or not,” he shrugs.

  “So there’s nothing we can do?” Mayzie tosses her hands up in exasperation. She’s obviously frustrated, and I’m seeing a small hint of the fire that she tries to keep under wraps most of the time. “The guys are locked into a contract with him, so we all just have to play nice like nothing happened?”

  “Well, you have a few scenarios you can choose from,” Mike supplies, looking at Mayzie compassionately. “Like you said, you can lay low and avoid him until the band’s contract is up. After all, he does PR for the band, not you. Then they can seek alternative representation and you’ll all be free of him.”

  “That’s a year and a half away! I can’t duck him for that long, and he probably won’t let me. Even if I could successfully evade him for that long, he dropped a big hint the other night that he might lay off the gas when it comes to finding opportunities for the guys.”

  “Baby, enough worrying about the band,” I lecture, rubbing the back of her neck. “You’re all we’re worried about right now. But I agree,” I continue, looking at Mike and Morris, “that means he gets away with it.”

  “Right,” Mike nods wholeheartedly agreeing. “So, next option. I could try to help you get out of the contract.” He could. He’s a corporate lawyer and does a lot of work for the pro football team in our hometown. Contracts are his specialty. “I could probably get him to agree to a settlement…” he raises an eyebrow as he trails off. He really could do that for us, but he’s not happy about it. He’s presenting it as an option so that we have all of them on the table, but he’s fuming. He and I are having an unspoken conversation with our eyes, conceding that this is yet another path that leads to Eli getting away with the shit that he’s been pulling with apparently more women than just Mayzie.

  “He’d probably take us for all we’re worth,” Mayzie mumbles out, her eyes on the table. “And he’d take his heap of our cash and continue on his merry way, toying with his choice of women.”

  “Well,” Morris comes in, “there’s one more option. It’s less meager than the other two, but no more appealing.”

  “Let’s have it,” I grumble dejectedly, waving my hand.

  “You get proof,” he answers firmly. We all go quiet, turning that concept over in our minds.

  Mayzie draws her eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t get it, how do I…” she shakes her head, clearly not fathoming how she’s supposed to do this.

  “I’d help you,” Morris offers in an assertive tone.

  I look between him and Mike as it dawns on me what he’s suggesting.

  “Oh no,” I start in, shaking my head. “Oh hell no. Just, no. Fuck. No.”

  13

  Mayzie

  “Are you talking about setting up a trap?” I ask Detective Morris.

  “Yes, like we wanted to do with the others. Those didn’t work because Eli had either smelled a rat or had lost interest. Either way, he showed no interest in being lured. But with you, he seems to be just getting started.”

  I shudder at his words, and I can’t even hide it. It’s like they’re laced with doom.

  “So you’re saying… he needs to do it again. He needs to approach me again so I can get the proof needed to stop him?” My words are coming out staggered. I’m still trying to piece this together as I go.

  “Absolutely fucking not.” Jack runs a hand through his hair before gripping the bridge of his nose. “You’re talking about sending my wife into the lion’s den! There is no fucking way that is happening. Don’t you have a female cop for this kind of thing?”

  “Normally we would go that route, but all the cases have been closed, which means we’d have to go through a hell of a lot of red tape with the DA, getting approval for an operation like this. And then we’d have ground work
to lay. We don’t know if the few female cops we have would be able to hook his attention. It’s a big risk to go that way, and it would take some time. Time that we might not have,” he holds his hands up in a shrug. “With you, the ball is already rolling. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “It’s not happening,” Jack affirms, like he’s putting his foot down.

  “I’m sorry.” Morris looks sincerely apologetic. “Those are the options.”

  “All those options suck.” I’m turning petulant.

  “Agreed. But there they are,” he drops his hands on the table, his watch making a clanking noise when it hits. He seems to be feeling as defeated as I do. “The easiest would be the first one, to avoid him for the duration of the band’s contract and hope that he doesn’t approach you again. Make sure you don’t show up at any events that you know he’ll be at…”

  “There’s nothing easy about that option,” I snap. “The memory of how he’s been around me would haunt me and taunt me for the next year and a half while he just keeps on doing his thing. And who knows, he could spend that time jerking the guys around because he didn’t get what he wanted.”

  “I agree, Mayzie. All those options do suck,” Mike tries to placate me with a comforting look from across the table. “The thing is, so does this entire situation. Eli has chosen and made each move carefully, ensuring that you and any other woman he’s done this to are made to feel like you have no other choice.”

  “Ugghh, he’s such a pain in my ass!” I moan as I drop my head back and rub my hands up and down my face before dropping my elbows to the table top and threading my hands in my hair. My immediate plan is to stay here, just like this, until this is over. Or until I rot. Whichever comes first. Jack’s hand runs up and down my back, trying to mollify me.

  “Alright, I think we’ve gone over enough for right now,” Mike declares, taking control of the conversation. “Eddie, I think we should take a beat; give them some time to process,” he says addressing Detective Morris. “Let’s take a walk, get some air.” With that, they both stand and head out the front of the bus.

  “Jack, Maze,” Ron gently prods. My face is still hidden from the world so I can’t see him but I can tell by his voice he’s trying to be supportive and comforting, ever the teddy-bear. “Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back. Whatever you want. And no one said you have to decide right now.”

  “Thanks, man,” I hear Jack rasp, along with the sound of Ron standing up and trudging his way off the bus.

  “Baby…” Jack starts stroking my hair and leans in close to me, speaking in a soothing tone. “What do you want to do? I don’t mean about my dick of an agent, I mean right now. A walk does sound like it’d be good. Or we can go lay down for a bit, what do you think?”

  Bed sounds more appealing, but Jack is right. I’m not going to clear my head by staying cooped up on this bus.

  “Okay,” I say quietly, lifting my head and letting him help me out of the booth. We step off the bus and into the sunlight. There’s not much to take in, walking around the back-parking lot of Atlanta’s major arena, but it’s fresh air, and I can feel my legs thanking me for the stretch as we walk around the outer perimeter of the motorcade of buses. At the edge of the lot, we see a small patch of grass with a puny picnic table under the shade of a small tree. We step onto it, and I lean against the little tree while Jack sits on the edge of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. We marinate in one of the loudest silences ever. After a few moments, I decide to break it, and dive right in, saying what’s on my mind.

  “I don’t want to continue like this for the rest of your contract. Trying to avoid him all that time while you stand wherever he tells you to sounds like a nightmare. It feels like we’ll be helpless, at his mercy. The whole idea makes me sick.”

  “Me too. Let’s take that option off the table; we’re not doing it.” Jack’s tone reassures me that this decision is unequivocal.

  “Good,” I let out a cleansing breath. “I still don’t know what to do, but at least one decision’s been made. That makes me feel a little better.”

  Jack nods. “We’re not going to play his game,” he repeats his words from the other night. I know how Jack feels about our other choices. Neither are good ones, but I know he sees buying our way out of the contract is the lesser of two evils.

  As for me, I don’t know what the hell to think. I cross my arms and look down at my Converse sneakers before looking back up at Jack. “Has Ron heard from him?”

  “No, nothing yet.”

  I nod, looking around and taking in the view of the arena, the nearby highways and establishments.

  As if he feels we’ve spent enough time on the subject for now, Jack, without taking his butt off of the edge of the table, leans forward and tugs on the waistband of my jeans. Once he’s got me where he wants me, leaning my body against his with his hands clasped at the small of my back and my head resting on his shoulder, he lets out a hard sigh into my hair. We stay in contented silence for a minute before he breaks it with a change of subject.

  “Did you get a load of Mike’s rock roadie getup?” He asks, chuckling into my hair, and I burst out in a giggle as I think about the typically buttoned-up Mike dressed like a grungy rocker. The only thing messing up the image is the clean haircut.

  I know what Jack’s doing, and I’m okay with it. For now anyway. Tensions are running high and we both have so much swirling in our minds it’s best to let it dissipate a little before bringing it all out in the open. Instead, we laugh and joke together as we take in the scene of the arena and tour buses that encompasses our crazy life together.

  “Are you in any trouble for coming down here without Sarah?” I ask Mike as we sit in VIP seats facing the stage. Sandblast has just left and the stage is being set for Turn it Up. When it’s just me, I watch from backstage, but the guys thought Mike and Detective Morris would like a front and center view.

  “Nah,” he answers with an amused smile. “She practically shoved me out the door. She’s so testy lately. Hormones,” he shrugs. “Besides, this is about helping family. You know she wouldn’t give me any shit about that.”

  “Thanks Mike,” I say sincerely, before turning towards Morris who is lounging back in the chair on my other side. “Thanks again for going to the trouble of coming down here to consult with us.”

  He shrugs like it’s no biggie. “I get to see Turn it Up for free and meet the band.” His lighthearted smile slips a bit before he continues. “Besides, I’d love to be the one that helps take that dipshit down; whether it’s with you or someone else.”

  I glance at him as I contemplate his words and his tone. His eyes are taking in the stage, giving me nothing, so I bite.

  “Sounds like this is more than just you doing your job,” I gently nudge.

  He gives a barely perceptible nod, still not meeting my eyes. “There is a personal factor mixed in. I’m engaged to one of his accusers. She’s one of the ones that was going to try to catch him.”

  My eyebrows draw together and my lips part as I absorb this information, then after a moment I ask, “What happened?”

  Eyes still forward, he draws in a long breath. “Lola and I dated for a year and a half before life began to get in the way. She was pounding the pavement trying to make it in the theater district, and I was struggling to make lead detective. We ended things amicably and continued down our own paths. She moved up slowly but surely and scored the understudy spot in a leading role in a Broadway musical. She got the chance to perform when the lead actress hit the sauce too hard the night before. Guess who happened to be at that show?”

  I don’t need to guess. I nod as I stare at the concrete floor.

  “Costa was rather taken and swooped in on her at the cast party after the show, asked her if she had any interest in broadening her scope either by recording an album or breaking into film. She’d worked so hard in theater that she hadn’t even considered the possibility so she was a bit awestruck by the idea. H
e wined and dined her, telling her all about how he wanted to connect her with auditions for several major films. He told her he had all of his contact numbers in his hotel room and lured her up there to retrieve them. When they got there, he told her he’d make calls for her in the morning… after she spent the night with him.”

  Of course. I’m not even surprised, but it doesn’t lessen the feeling of disgust that comes over me.

  “She was tempted. The idea of what could come of it was powerfully alluring, and he got close enough to touch her while she was processing it all. But the second he made physical contact, she snapped out of it. Her sense of morality and logic kicked back in and overpowered the temptation, fortunately. She pulled away, and his charming demeanor faded away. As she was leaving, he told her it was too bad that she blew her chance of making it big in the entertainment industry; said ‘you’re good, but you’re not that good. I could’ve helped you.’”

  I shudder, feeling utter revulsion for Lola.

  “She reached out to me the next morning, distraught. She wanted to know if there was anything I could do, which there wasn’t because there was no proof. All we could do was file a report, but with that report on the books, we were able to move forward with trying to catch him at his game. We were going to try to get him alone with her and have her wired. Unfortunately, when she tried to call him and tell him she had a change of heart, he dismissed all her calls. Seemed he’d washed his hands of her and moved on. There was nothing we could do.” He releases a breath and rolls his shoulders.

  “I feel stupid. He didn’t even touch me…” I shake my head, trailing off.

  “He doesn’t need to touch you, or even yell at you to make you feel violated,” he says, turning towards me and pinning me with the solemn look in his eyes. This obviously hits deep with him.