Black Light: Scandalized

by Grant, Livia

  The doorbell ringing made her jump. She looked down at her watch, relieved to see it had to be Danielle. Regardless, when she got to the front door, Piper didn’t take any chances, peering through the peephole to confirm it was really her assistant. That Danielle was there didn’t surprise her. What worried her was wondering if she’d followed instructions and come alone.

  She’d have to risk it.

  Piper turned the deadbolt lock and pulled off the chain before finally opening the door, so a tired looking Danielle could come in.

  “Hey, thanks for coming.”

  “I didn’t think I had a choice,” she deadpanned, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her.

  “Well, you could have resigned. That was a choice.”

  “Yeah, I sort of got that vibe.”

  Piper quickly shut and locked the door behind them, feeling better the second the lock was in place.

  “You came alone?”

  “No. I snuck Harry and Hermione in under my invisibility cloak.” Arriving in the small kitchen of the rental house, Danielle turned and pinned her with a glare. “Of course, I came alone.”

  “You don’t need to be a bitch about it.”

  “Really? Is that really what you want to say to me right now?” Danielle sassed.

  “Well, since you’re acting like a bitch, yeah, I guess so.”

  “That’s rich. You wig out and disappear for a whole day, leaving me to clean up the wake of your tornado without having a damn clue what the hell was going on, and I’m the bitch.”

  “What tornado? I wasn’t supposed to travel this week, anyway.”

  “Did you forget about the People cover shoot today? And how about the production meeting tomorrow for the project you’ve just convinced investors to spend seventy million dollars on? And all of that pales in comparison to the boot Nolan Boeing and his assistant have had up my ass every damn hour on the hour. He called me drunk at three yesterday morning, demanding I produce you out of thin air.”

  Oops.

  “Fine. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry. That’s it?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t want a damn apology. I want to know what’s going on. Why can’t you go back to your own house? What happened with you and Nolan? Why did you want me to bring your passport?”

  “Stop! This, right here, is why I can’t go home. I can’t deal with these questions right now. I’m hanging on by a damn thread, and this isn’t helping.” Piper flailed her arms, trying to avoid eye contact.

  Danielle was looking at her funny.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I thought he was crazy, but he was right.”

  “Who was right?”

  “Nolan. He said you were scared. That you’re gonna run away. I didn’t believe him, but…”

  “Would everyone please stop trying to psychoanalyze me? I’m a grown-ass woman. If I want to take a break, then I’ll take a break.”

  “A break. In the middle of filming a movie? And as you’re kicking off one of the biggest productions you’ve ever led? I got news for you, that’s not a break—that’s career suicide.”

  Piper didn’t need this bullshit, especially from an employee.

  “And so, what if it is? It’s my career. I already have enough money to last a lifetime.”

  “Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that. I got your Xanax prescription refilled. You should have a big enough supply to keep yourself nice and numb. Just know, one day you’ll wake up and realize all you threw away.”

  Piper’s head was pounding. She brushed past Danielle to stomp back out to the balcony overlooking the ocean, only to be followed.

  The women stood at the railing, looking out over the water in silence. Finally, Danielle broke the awkward silence.

  “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not. So now what?”

  “I’m leaving the country tomorrow. I chartered a plane. I don’t know for how long. I’d appreciate it if you’d let everyone who needs to know. I’m aware they’ll press you for answers you don’t have. Tell them I’m sick and under a doctor’s care. Tell them I’ll check in with you once a week.”

  “You’ll have to assign someone else to get your updates.”

  “But…”

  “I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to maybe come back. Maybe not. I’ll get you through this week’s cancelations, but that’s it.”

  “You’re deserting me?”

  “That’s rich, Piper. Last time I checked, you were the one running away here, not me.”

  “I’ll keep paying you…”

  “It isn’t about the money. Like you, I already have plenty of money to tide me over.”

  “If not money, then…”

  “I never told you why I took the job with you, did I?”

  “I assumed it was because I offered it?”

  “Like I told you already, I get two calls a week from people offering me jobs. I can get a higher paying job tomorrow. I didn’t work for you because of the money.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Why the hell did you want to work for me then?”

  “I’ve worked for eleven other celebrities over the last fourteen years. They ranged from nightmares to sweet, but none of them had the drive to succeed as you do. Most were just in it for the celebrity perks.

  “I’ve been honored to represent you. To watch you bring a room full of movie executive men to heel, not with your looks or sex appeal, but through ruthless business dealings. Don’t ask me to watch you throw that all away.”

  Piper hated the words Danielle was saying, but she found it impossible to run away from them. She just wanted to bury her head in the sand, but her assistant had just done a spectacular job of slapping her in the face with all she’d be giving up.

  Again.

  “Listen, I don’t know what happened. I’ll deal with everything as you asked, but do me one favor. Please.”

  When Danielle didn’t finish her sentence, Piper turned to see the woman was looking at her. Their eyes met.

  “Call Nolan after I leave. He’s a good man. Give him a chance to fix whatever he did wrong.”

  She wasn’t going to cry, damnit. She also wasn’t going to blame him for something he was as much a victim of as she was.

  “Nolan didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who… never mind. Thanks again for coming.” Piper reached into her pocket and came out with the keys to Nolan’s car and handed them to Danielle. “Please hold on to these until the day after tomorrow, then if you could, get them to Nolan with the address to this place. He can send someone to pick it up after I leave the country.”

  “So that’s it, then.” Danielle looked like she was about to cry too. “I can’t change your mind?”

  “Nope.”

  The women had never been touchy-feely with each other, so it caught Piper off-guard when Danielle leaned in to give her a tight hug before stepping back.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Piper. Good luck.”

  “Bye, Danielle. Thanks again for… well, everything.”

  * * *

  Piper heard the rental property’s grandfather clock striking three in the morning. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, trying to get a bit of rest before the car she’d arranged would be picking her up to go to the airport at eight. She just had a few more hours to make it through.

  She’d been counting down the hours all day since Danielle left. With each hour that crawled by, she’d regretted not booking a flight that would be in the air already. She’d spent her afternoon on the beach, listening to the waves crashing like a metaphor for her life. A tiny voice in the back of her head had been trying to be heard, but Piper had done a good job of squelching it—at least while she’d been awake. Now, in the dark of the night, the voice was echoing louder, shouting she was makin
g a huge mistake.

  She’d charged her phone, knowing she’d need it for traveling, but that didn’t mean she was stupid enough to turn it on. If she had any hope of keeping her location secret, she’d have to get a new number once she landed in France the next day.

  The rumble of thunder in the distance taunted her, reminding her of the storm brewing. She may be safely hidden tonight, but eventually, she’d have to go out into the storm, and there wasn’t an umbrella large enough in the universe to protect her from the shit-storm of media coverage that would hound her if even one reporter caught wind of the secrets she’d carried with her.

  In the dark of the night, she finally gave way to her inner angst, reminding her there was someone else—a frightened and beaten woman—who’s own shitstorm was just beginning. Piper’s heart hurt for the unknown housekeeper if that part of the story had even been correct. She prayed the poor woman had friends and family who would rally around her—believe her.

  A bright flash of light was immediately followed by a booming thunder, so close it shook the house. Piper threw the covers off her body, crawling out of bed as if the rumbling had jostled her truly awake for the first time in days. On autopilot, she grabbed her silk robe, sliding it on as she padded down the hall from the bedroom into the main living room of her temporary hideout.

  It wasn’t really a conscious decision to turn on the flat-screen TV, fumbling with the unfamiliar remote until she was able to stop on CNN headline news.

  She didn’t dare sit down. She wasn’t going to watch long enough to get comfortable, telling herself she was just going to make sure the newest victim of Henry Ainsworth was hopefully recovering, or better yet, the police had an iron-clad case against the powerful movie executive. Any little tidbit could press down the growing guilt swirling inside her and allow her to get some rest was welcome.

  The volume on the TV was so low, she couldn’t make out the reporter’s words, but the candid picture snapped of a disheveled Shane Covington and Jaxson Cartwright-Davidson, exiting what looked like an emergency room surrounded by uniformed police had her scrambling to find the volume on the clicker.

  “Our reporters outside Cedar-Sinai Hospital have not been able to confirm the reports the unconscious victim, claiming to have been assaulted by Henry Ainsworth, was carried, naked and bleeding, into the emergency room by Oscar-nominated superstar, Shane Covington. Witnesses in the ER at the time of their arrival are telling CNN reporters, both Covington and Jaxson Cartwright-Davidson were covered in blood and appeared to be soaking wet, dripping water on the floor of the hospital as they screamed for medical assistance for the unidentified woman.

  “Requests for interviews to their spokespersons have gone unanswered, but unofficial accounts are coming in that the young woman was an employee at Cartwright-Davidson’s popular dance club and hotel, Runway. Multiple witnesses have reported seeing Covington eating dinner with the mystery woman at the club, but as no electronics are allowed on the property, CNN is unable to substantiate these rumors at this time.”

  The picture above the anchor’s shoulder changed from Shane and Jax to a mug shot of Henry Ainsworth, looking as smug as ever.

  “A judge today denied Henry Ainsworth bond, remanding him to custody in the Los Angeles County Jail while awaiting arraignment. CNN will have reporters on hand at an official press conference later this morning at ten o’clock local time. The press conference has been called by the District Attorney’s office in conjunction with the Beverly Hills Police Department Special Victim’s Unit and will be held at the downtown L.A. DA’s office.

  “In other news…”

  Piper turned off the TV, throwing the remote down on the table next to her with more force than necessary. Her brain was exploding with unwanted images. The TV had been on less than three short minutes, yet she knew with a certainty rarely felt, those three minutes had changed the trajectory of her life forever.

  Feeling like her heart was about to pound right out of her chest, she started pacing wildly, stomping through the empty and dark house, manically going from room to room and back again. Within minutes, her private refuge felt more like her own personal prison. She was stuck there, alone, with only her nightmarish memories and crushing guilt as a companion.

  This wasn’t her fault. None of it. She tried repeating that in her head, but her heart was having none of it.

  If only I’d been stronger.

  Anxiety was closing in. She managed to take sips of air into her lungs as the wave of nausea threatened to have her dinner reappearing. Feeling lightheaded, she knew she needed fresh air.

  Piper stumbled through the dark house, out onto the massive balcony overlooking the ocean below. The soundtrack of crashing waves were the perfect duet to the rumbling thunder—heavy drops of cold rain, the appropriate wake-up call for her life.

  She forced down the temptation to return to the house to find the bottle of Xanax. While her brain wasn’t capable of rational thought, her heart ached with the knowledge the medicine was just a band-aid. For years, it, along with alcohol, had numbed her. But tonight, with rare clarity, she knew the bottles of prescription drugs and years of counseling hadn’t cured a damn thing. She’d told herself she’d been healing—improving.

  That was a lie.

  Piper forced herself to withstand the harsh elements, punishing herself for being weak. By the time the sky started to lighten sometime later, she was cold, wet, and shivering. On autopilot, she stumbled into the house, heading directly into the master bathroom, turning on the shower’s water and stepping into the tub, clothes and all.

  The burst of cold water took her breath away, but in less than a minute, the temperature turned from cold to burning hot. She welcomed the pain—a small punishment for her many transgressions—letting the water wash the tears that now fell down the drain.

  When the water started to cool a long time later, Piper finally turned off the water, stripping off her wet nightgown and robe, leaving them pooled in the tub as she walked back to the bedroom, dripping water as she went.

  She hadn’t planned it. It just happened. The Apple icon lit up the display of her phone as she pressed power. Within seconds, notifications started pelting her from every app—emails, over a dozen phone calls, even more unanswered texts and voicemails. With each flash across the screen, her anxiety grew.

  Most were from Danielle and Nolan. She’d expected those. It was the last text from Shane Covington that gutted her.

  * * *

  We need to talk. Boeing says you have info I need. He won’t give me details. He’s protecting you. I respect that, but you need to call me ASAP.

  * * *

  Another text a minute later was short and sweet.

  * * *

  Please, Piper. I love her.

  * * *

  Fuck.

  * * *

  The trio’s house was relatively deserted now compared to the last two action-packed days. Still, in the quiet of the night, he couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears the nurse, Sarah, had told him was brought on by the stress he was under.

  Shane was exhausted, yet sleep just wouldn’t come. He’d been grateful to have escaped having to attend yesterday’s press conference with the DA’s office and the Beverly Hills Police Department.

  He wouldn’t be as lucky in the morning. Unbelievably, they were coming up on the deadline for the DA to charge Ainsworth or have to cut him loose. The good news was, they’d processed the evidence found with the search warrant and confirmed Nalani’s DNA on his shoes and the whip the barbarian had used on her body. The bad news was, the fucker’s slick lawyer had the DA spooked, claiming that sex between them had been consensual and had taken place at Runway. Without his DNA or fingerprints found in her apartment, the DA was reluctant to proceed with charges unless additional evidence surfaced.

  So, like it or not, he and Jaxson would be attending the press conference later that morning, not only to lend support to Nalani’s side of the story but more importan
tly, make a public plea for additional victims to come forward.

  It hurt his heart to think Piper Kole might be one such victim, but that pain hadn’t stopped him from texting her to beg her to help them if she had any information that could put Ainsworth behind bars for the rest of his life. It was tempting to be angry at her for not calling him back, but all he had to do was picture her going through what Nalani was going through, and he couldn’t be mad.

  His brain kept turning over the fast-changing details of the case, preferring to focus on the legal hurdles over the much harder to face emotional mountains that lay in front of him and Nalani.

  “Shane?” Nalani’s hoarse whisper pulled him out of his spiral of worry.

  He flipped the lever of the recliner he’d been lounging in next to Nalani’s rented hospital bed, springing the chair forward.

  “I’m here, kitten.”

  The warm glow of the small lamp on the other side of the bed was the only light. Still, the dim lighting couldn’t hide the darkening bruises across her beautiful face. Her hand gripped his, squeezing hard to keep him close as her grimace of pain broke his heart. He had never felt as neutered as he had in the last few days.

  “What can I get you, baby? Anything.”

  That was a lie. He knew the only thing Nalani really needed was a time machine so they could go back to Sunday. He’d have made her go to the Oscars with him. Better yet, he’d have stayed home with her. How he wished he could go back to be the one waiting for Ainsworth in that tiny apartment. Of course, then he’d be the one behind bars tonight—waiting to be charged with murder because he had no doubt that if he were in a room alone with Ainsworth for five minutes, he would have absolutely no problem ending him.