by Saba Kapur
“Hello?” I said groggily, my voice partially muffled by my pillows.
“You missed one.”
My eyelids fluttered open as I propped myself up onto my elbows, squinting at my phone screen. It read No Caller ID.
“Hello?” I repeated.
“I must say,” came the deep robotic voice. “The police did a good job of finding the rest. But they missed the most important one.”
Oh crap. I shot up to a sitting position and did some heavy breathing. Evidently, as if he wasn’t scary enough, Dr. D had decided to trade his auto-tune for some good, old-fashioned Darth Vader. Where the heck was Jack when I needed him? He was always around when it was inconvenient, but the moment I actually needed his assistance he wasn’t there. I bit my lip, evaluating my next step. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was Matt Damon. Although, why Matt Damon would be calling in a creepy edited voice, talking about the police, is questionable.
I sucked in some air and put the phone back to my ear. “You’re talking about the bugs, right?” I said.
“Of course.”
“How’d you get in the house anyway?” I said, hugging my knees to my chest. “There’s no way you would have gotten in without being seen.”
There was a low rumble on the other end, and I figured he must have been chuckling. “What if it wasn’t me?” Dr. D asked.
“Ao Jie Kai then,” I said, trying to stop my voice from shaking. “Or someone who works for you. If you tell me how then I promise I won’t go to the cops.”
Okay, that was such a pathetic lie and we both knew it. But the way I saw it, there was only one of these mystery bugs left in the house. Wherever it was, chances are it wouldn’t have picked up on Milo putting a bug into my phone. What Dr. D didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, but it would get him arrested. According to the police officers and pretty much every crime-related movie or TV show I’ve ever seen, sixty seconds is enough time to trace the call. After that its bam! Bye-bye mister creepo forever. I felt like my heart was going to collapse from the nerves, but I trusted that someone at the police station, hopefully Milo, had my back.
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds as Dr. D considered my deal. “I like you Gia,” he finally said. “You’ve got an attitude that I admire. You’re brave, which is a quality I never saw in your father. You two differ there. And just for that, I’m going to tell you.”
“Um, thank you?”
It was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but I took it. No need to get into the semantics of it all. It had only been just over thirty seconds. I needed him to stay on for at least thirty more, but he suddenly seemed eager to answer all my questions.
“A month ago your father called a professional cleaning service to steam clean your carpets and clean the drapes and what not,” Dr. D explained. “One of those cleaners was working for me and planted the bugs around your house.”
I stared at my feet, processing this information. I could barely understand the man through all of that voice editing, but I had managed to get what was important. Whoever this maniac was, he was good. He had to have been watching my family even before the cleaners were called, or else he’d never have been able to plant his person in the right position to do the job.
“Just one of the workers?” I reconfirmed. I considered taking notes; all of that information would probably come in handy later.
“Do you enjoy it, Gia?” Dr. D said, ignoring my question.
My eyebrows furrowed together. I couldn’t keep up with the constantly changing nature of our conversations. “Do I enjoy what?”
“Getting everything you want?”
It had to have been a minute now, but something didn’t seem right. Dr. D was obviously much smarter than I had first anticipated. If he was bold enough to put listening devices all over my house, then there was no way it wouldn’t have crossed his mind that the police would have done the same to him. But he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.
“I don’t—” I began, but was cut off immediately.
“You truly are your father’s daughter.”
“Okay, but—”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Dr. D said, as I climbed out of bed. The deep, robotic voice was a million times scarier than the auto tune, and I was having a tough time coping. “In the meantime, stop looking for me. You’re going to get hurt. I’m trying to help you.”
Oh gee, that was great coming from the insane guy who was preying on me like he was a hunter and I was a deer. It was all well and good to keep warning me, but at the end of the day he was still going to stick a spear in my butt and steal my antlers, no matter how fast I ran.
“Wait, bu—”
“Until next time,” Dr. D said, cutting me off. “Goodbye Miss Winters. And goodbye to you too, Officer Fells.”
__________
Milo had called seconds after my shaky call with Dr. D had ended. The good news was the call was long enough to trace the location, but the bad news was the location was a pay phone in downtown Beverly Hills, so anyone could have been the caller. The police were using security cameras to try and identify a face, while still trying to figure out how he could have edited his voice using a public phone, but that was the last thing I was worried about.
After yelling at Jack for a good twenty minutes about why he was showering when I needed him most, I had a grim realization that Dr. D really did know the police would be listening, but he was still giving away his trade secrets. Either he was the world’s stupidest stalker, or he was ten times more dangerous than anyone had first thought. Addressing Milo straight on before hanging up was a pretty clear indication that this lunatic knew exactly what he was doing, and had his twisted little plan all worked out. I had been tempted to add that Milo was in fact not an officer yet, but actually just a cadet. But Dr. D had hung up before I got the chance. Plus I don’t think he would have cared. I think he just knew I had a massive crush on the guy, which was super awkward, because now even my stalker knew I wanted to date Milo real bad. Of course, Dad hadn’t been too thrilled about the latest phone call, and kept yelling on the phone to some person from the cleaning company, demanding to know how they had hired someone who was obviously a creep. Kenny had to keep reminding him that it was the police’s job to figure those details out, and to keep relaxed. Mom just drank a lot of wine.
I spent the afternoon searching every inch of my room and the house, together with Anya, Jack, Mike and Chris, with no luck in finding where the last bug was hidden. Dad went out for frozen yogurt and kept mumbling something about keeping me in the house forever, and Mom relieved her stress by shopping for new sunglasses. I followed her footsteps and took a break from the detective work, turning to retail therapy for some solace. I didn’t exactly have the same freedom of movement as my mother, however, so all my stress had to be relieved via the Internet. Jack had been kind enough to voice his unwanted thoughts on how shopping online for YSL bags wasn’t really going to solve any of my problems. But he had also once described Judge Judy as a “national treasure,” so I wasn’t really inclined to take his opinions seriously.
It was almost dinnertime when Jack and I slumped back to my room, defeated by our loss against the missing listening device. I had barely touched the silky bed sheets when my phone went off, sending my heart into a panic all over again. By now, I was way beyond ready to throw the stupid thing in the garbage.
“Well aren’t you going to answer it?” Jack asked, standing alert by my side.
I glanced at the screen and flinched. No Caller ID.
“No, I’m good,” I told him. “It’ll stop ringing eventually.”
Jack sat on the bed opposite me. “Gia,” he said softly. “Just answer it. I’m right here.”
I sighed deeply, dreading what was coming next. Now what? Dr. D had forgotten to tell me he had kidnapped Famous and wanted ten million dollars ransom? Just to
be sure, I whirled around, watching Famous lie asleep beside Jack on my bed. Nope, still there.
“Hello?” I said cautiously, as if I was trying to walk through a basketball game without getting hit in the face.
“Hi, is this Gia Winters?” I heard a woman’s voice reply.
What, was this some new approach to stalking me? Mrs. Dr. D?
“Yes?” I told her, looking at Jack. He mouthed stalker? I gave him a palms up to let him know I was just as curious.
“Miss Winters, my name is Carol Beaufort. I’m calling from the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Oh. Look, if this is a survey for the Golden Globes, I think George Clooney should win everything. Honestly, the man is a legend.”
“Uh,” Carol replied, sounding a little surprised. “Not quite. Miss Winters, are you aware of the concept of Miss Golden Globe?”
My jaw dropped. Of course! With all the drama around Milo’s perfect dimples and Dr. D trying to kill me, I had completely forgotten about the Golden Globes!
“Oh my God,” I said. I stood up, excitement rising in my voice. “Oh my God! Yes! Yes, I know all about it.”
Jack, who was looking super bored now that he knew I wasn’t being called by a psycho freak, had turned the TV to mute. He didn’t really need the sound to ogle Jessica Alba.
“As I’m sure you’re aware,” Carol continued, her voice as formal as ever. “The title was originally given to someone else. But an issue arose recently that may take months to overcome.”
“How many months?”
“About eight and a half.”
Oh snap. Ain’t no party like a Hollywood pregnancy scandal.
“Okay,” I said, pacing beside my bed expectantly. “So why are you calling me?”
Carol sighed, as if she were dealing with someone who didn’t understand English. Clearly she wasn’t as excited about this as I was.
“We’d like to offer you the role,” she said.
“Excuse me a second,” I said, muting the phone. “OH MY GOD, YES! YES! YES! YES!”
“What?” Jack said, looking at me in alarm. “What happened?”
“Shh!” I hissed, and Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m on the phone.”
“Hello?” Carol’s voice said, and I unmuted the call.
“Yes! I’m still here!” I said, a little breathless from my aggressive fist pumping. “Okay, so say for example Leonardo DiCaprio wins an award, which he totally should by the way, he’s amazing. Let’s say he wins an award. I’m supposed to give it to him?”
“You hold the award and give it to the presenter, who gives it to him. Then you usher him off stage.” Carol explained, as though she were conversing with a five-year-old.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!”
“Look Gia,” Carol said in a strained voice, dropping the formal tone she had been using before. “We’re getting desperate here. Everyone we choose is either a step away from giving birth, changing gender, or locked away in rehab. This whole thing has been a disaster ever since we had to push the date back to the twentieth of April. You’re really our last hope.”
Well gee, way to make a girl feel special.
“This is a very prestigious title,” she continued. “Your parents are extremely well respected in the film industry. The job of Miss Golden Globe is to be taken seriously. You’re in your final year of high school, is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I replied, mirroring her pompous accent.
“You’ll need to take some time off school these next few weeks. Just for a few days. We need to do a last minute press conference with the President of the Association, and then some much needed rehearsals at the venue. The award show is right around the corner and there are a million things to be done. You think you can manage it?”
Personally, I didn’t know why they really needed some fancy title for the people who hold the awards on stage. I just figured they were supermodels that couldn’t get work on the runway or in movies. But it was still a huge deal. If they were going to hand me that role on a silver platter, then I wasn’t about to say no.
“Can I talk to my parents and get back to you?” I asked.
“Of course,” Carol replied, sounding less cranky and more hopeful. “Although I just got off the phone with your mother, who seemed very enthusiastic about this opportunity. I’ll text you my number. You can discuss it some more and confirm as soon as you can.”
I promised I would and hung up the phone. “YES!” I yelled to the skies, chucking my phone onto the bed, missing Jack and Famous by an inch.
“What are you so excited about?” Jack asked, flipping the channels on the still muted TV.
“That was someone from the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. They gave me Miss Golden Globe!”
“Is that the chick who stands on stage, holding the award and smiling all bright?” Jack asked, looking up as I nodded. “Doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, well,” I told him, crossing my arms across my chest. “It’s a very prestigious title. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Congrats,” Jack said, but he looked so insincere, it made me want to hit him.
“Whatever,” I said to myself. There was no way Jack was going to bring my happiness down. “There are a billion things I have to figure out. I have to choose my dress! Oh my gosh, and my heels. I need to get this all prepared before the twentieth!”
“Wait a second,” Jack said, sitting upright. He turned to me, serious mode activated. “What date did you just say?”
“The twentieth. Why?”
“And what date did Dr. D tell you to save the other day on the phone?”
My eyes widened, as I finally understood what he was coming to. “The twentieth,” I told him.
“Well there you go,” Jack said, as if he had just completed a thousand-piece puzzle.
“So whatever he’s going to do, it’s going to happen at the Golden Globes?”
Jack nodded and said, “I guess so.”
The idea of me being in the same room as Dr. D and some of the world’s best looking men was so overwhelming for me, I actually had to push Famous out of the way and lie down. There was no way in hell Dad was going to let me be Miss Golden Globe if he knew Dr. D was going to show up.
“This is so unfair!” I cried, covering my face with a pillow. “All I ever wanted was to hand DiCaprio a golden statue without getting killed. Is that too much to ask?”
I felt Jack pull the pillow away from my face, but I didn’t resist him. “Don’t worry,” he said, sounding completely calm. “We’ll catch him way before then.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Well that party on Saturday is a good start,” he replied.
Oh crap. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about this, like, ever.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up slowly. “About that. I think I should definitely go.”
“Good. So we’ll go.”
“Um . . . I think I should go with Milo. Without you.”
Jack blinked at me in silence, his jaw tightening. I offered him a half-assed smile, but he didn’t look at all happy to receive it.
“What?” he finally managed to ask, looking pained.
“He knows some people going and he saw the flyer on the desk, so he asked me to come along. I mean it’s not a big deal; we were going to go anyway.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, rising from the bed. “We were going to go. I can’t keep you safe if I’m not even there!”
“Jack,” I said calmly, watching him pace in front of me with frustration. “I’ll be perfectly safe! Milo will be right next to me the entire time! He’s a police off—”
“He’s not an officer yet!”
“Okay fine, he’s almost a police officer. But it still c
ounts!”
Jack stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he wanted to jump out of my third story window, run and never come back. I watched him silently. If he was even contemplating the idea I needed to give him some space to come to terms with it. That, and I was scared he might throw a pen at me in rage, or something.
“How exactly are you planning on pulling this off?” he said. “Your dad is never going to let you go to some college party with a guy you barely know.”
Yeah, but he was totally down for letting three strangers move into the house to follow his kids around all day. I was going to point this out, but then decided against it. That argument wasn’t going to win me any points with anyone.
“It’s the same night as Brendan’s farewell party, so he doesn’t need to know where I really am,” I explained. Jack opened his mouth to start yelling again, but I continued before he could begin. “He’s not going to stop me from celebrating Brendan moving states. I’m surprised he didn’t throw the party himself.”
I gave a short laugh, hoping that Jack would join in. He didn’t.
“And where does that leave me?” he asked, still looking skeptical.
“That part I haven’t figured out yet,” I admitted. “But I’m working on it, I swear.”
“What do you even know about this guy?” he shot back. “I mean, what if he’s a psycho?”
“Don’t be ridiculous Jack. The quota for psychos has already been filled in my life.”
“What if he’s into weird stuff like Christian Grey?”
I paused. “Is that really a bad thing? Christian Grey is hot, rich, and he flies helicopters.”
“Yeah, and he also has a torture chamber in his house!”
“Should I be concerned that you know this much about Christian Grey?”
Jack shook his head. “This seems like a terrible idea.”
“You always say that, and then things always work out some way or another! It’s just one night, Jack!”
