Double Down

by MB Austin

  “That explains Nigel’s foot dragging on locking in tour dates and venues. And why he wants a ton of video of her getting ready for this show,” Maji noted. “Very merchandisable after a star’s death. Like that other guy he represented.”

  “Santiago, yes.” Romero sniffed. “Still making him money after all these years. And now you see why I am unsure how much to tell Erlea.”

  “Does Arturo Echeverra know?” Maji asked. “About the collusion.”

  “No,” Romero said.

  Maji gave that some thought. “Erlea’s a great singer, but that doesn’t mean she can act. If she knew Nigel was literally stabbing her in the back, she couldn’t hide that.”

  “So we increase her protection, but don’t tell her,” Dave said. “Agreed.”

  Maji hated taking all of Erlea’s choices away. “Meeting her father, keeping his secrets, that’s different. I think we should give her a chance. Besides, who knows what he’ll tell her that he won’t tell you two.”

  “With their meeting bugged, of course,” Romero said.

  * * *

  Erlea opened the door of her suite to find Celeste, looking agitated. “Maji hasn’t come back yet?” she asked. She hoped nothing had gone wrong with the visit to Lyttleton.

  “No.” Celeste poked her phone, glaring at it. “Where is she? She’s not answering her phone or her door.”

  “Why don’t you come in?” Erlea suggested. “I can usually hear when she’s next door.”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “Nonsense. We’re friends, right? I could use the company,” Erlea assured her. “Let me get you something. Water? Wine?”

  “You have wine?”

  “For Imane.” Erlea hoped Celeste trusted her to have a glass now and then, too. But this was the wrong time to ask. “And for you.”

  “Thank you. I could use some.” Celeste swept in and headed straight for the fridge.

  Erlea pulled a wineglass off the shelf and grabbed the almonds while she was at it. “There’s cheese in there, too, and olives. It’s not much…”

  Celeste took the glass and sighed. “Thank you. Actually, I am starving. I forgot lunch.”

  “A well-respected doctor told me not to skip meals,” Erlea ventured, offering her all the packages on hand.

  Celeste swallowed half a glass of cava and started on the cheese before answering. “That’s sound advice.” She swallowed and breathed slowly, eyes closed. When she opened them, the seas were calm again. “How is the flying?”

  “Better without a bungee.” At Celeste’s quizzical look, Erlea explained, “Maji and I talk about the rolls in Aikido as flying.”

  “Maybe I should come watch one morning.”

  Was that humor in those beautiful blue-green eyes? Erlea hoped so. But the idea of Celeste watching her was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. “Sure. If you want to.”

  Celeste turned her head toward a noise from Maji’s room. She banged on the connector door. “Hello?”

  “Well, open up,” Maji’s voice replied. “My side is open now.”

  Celeste turned the lock and opened the door, then threw herself into Maji’s arms.

  “Order dinner?” Maji said to Erlea, looking not surprised at all as she held Celeste.

  Erlea tried to ignore the sting of jealousy. Suck it up, princess. She wants Maji, not you. She wished it was her place, her business to help Celeste with whatever she needed. But it wasn’t. “Sure.”

  Erlea called an order in quickly, keeping one ear open. She shouldn’t eavesdrop, but Celeste seemed so upset. She tiptoed over to the open doorway and stood out of sight.

  “Adrienne is playing in Germany right now,” Maji said. “Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t get here.”

  “You checked? That makes me more scared, not less,” Celeste responded. “Adrienne is so unpredictable. She might punch a ref just to get suspended. And blame it on me, somehow. Merde, merde, merde.”

  “Don’t panic,” Maji said. “We have time to set up security measures. Can I listen to the messages? It would help me assess the situation.”

  “The situation is, she still won’t take no for an answer.” Celeste sounded more angry than scared. That was good, right? “How dare she call my work number and act penitent, like we had some misunderstanding? If she comes here, I will have her arrested.”

  Yes, Erlea thought. Do it.

  “But what if she finds me in Barcelona? I have to go to work. I don’t want to hide. But the things she said on the second message, after she’d been drinking. She called me a bitch, but she called Erlea worse. I can’t believe I’ve dragged her into my drama. God, it’s embarrassing.”

  “All you’ve done is what you needed to stay safe. I’m proud of you. You will get your life back. Though I’ll need you to call and speak with my boss yourself. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You’ve been such a friend all along, never judging me. Erlea, too.”

  Erlea tiptoed back to the kitchen. Eavesdropping was no way to pay Celeste back for her trust. When dinner arrived and they were still in Maji’s room, she put it in the oven to stay warm and took her guitar to the balcony.

  Only when they clapped did Erlea realize she had an audience. “Please tell me Maji hasn’t eaten all my supper while I’ve been giving a private concert.”

  “Dinner is on the table,” Celeste said. “You have sung for your supper. Come, I have news to share.”

  Erlea helped herself to a bit of everything, anxious but not willing to press. She looked up when Celeste cleared her throat and found her holding the bottle of cava by a wineglass, a silent question on her face. “Just one glass, thanks,” Erlea said. “I don’t want to miss anything important tonight.”

  Celeste poured and raised her glass to toast. “To friends. And new beginnings.” She sipped. “I talked to my new partners in Barcelona. They still want me. I start in a few days.”

  A few days? “That’s wonderful.” Erlea did her best to smile.

  “Yes. And I would like to say yes to your generous offer,” Celeste said. “Maji has a few questions about security.”

  “Sure. Anything. It’s good, but we can add alarms, or monitors, or whatever you want,” Erlea said, feeling herself ramble. “There’s even room for a bodyguard. I mean, if you take my room. When I’m not there. I mean…I’m shutting up now. Just happy. Yes.”

  Celeste laughed and raised her glass. “To just happy. But no bodyguards. Maji’s firm will hook me up with less intrusive protection. And I have a plan to deal with Adrienne. If you’ll let me have the video.”

  “Of course. But are you sure you want to watch it? It made me want to hurt her. I mean, I’m against violence, obviously, but for you I’d make an exception. And she can’t come after you if I break her kneecaps.” Erlea tried to keep some lightness in her voice, to let Celeste take it as a joke. It scared her how much she wanted to hurt Adrienne, to make her suffer.

  “Thank you for the sentiment,” Celeste said, a frown warring with her half smile. “But I have to get my own self out of this mess.”

  “Why should you have to do anything?” Erlea said. “That’s not fair. Did you do anything wrong? I’ve met you. I don’t think so.”

  “I appreciate your faith in me. But I did make mistakes. I saw beneath her facade but still trusted that she could change—until it was too late to leave. And even then I protected her, as if her well-being was more important than mine. But no more.”

  Maji’s face gave no hints, so Erlea asked, “Are you going to give the video to the press?” That seemed fair.

  Celeste shook her head. “I thought about it. But the media would have a field day. And you know how they treat women who accuse famous men of abuse. Plus my own community would hate me for making a lesbian look bad.”

  “It’s an ugly truth,” Maji said. “And it would only shine a spotlight on Celeste, not make her safer.”

  “Like my interview,” Erlea said in a moment of recognition.
She looked to Celeste. “I’m so sorry about that. I should have been more careful, thought about it from your perspective.” First Laura, now Celeste. At least when she got drunk with strangers, she only hurt herself.

  Celeste reached across and took her hand. “Stop beating yourself up. You are one of the most caring people I know. No one needs to be protected from you.” She pulled back and crossed her arms. “But someone must act to protect the next woman from Adrienne.”

  “Now I am proud of you, but also kind of scared,” Erlea confessed. “What are you going to do?”

  “I am sending the video to Adrienne’s team manager. And demanding they send her to therapy. I know she had a rough childhood and all of that, but it’s not my fault. And she won’t change without help. When she understands what she has done, then I’ll accept an apology.”

  “What if she refuses help?”

  Celeste shrugged. “Soccer is everything to her. She would never go see someone for me, but this way she will go for herself.”

  “Same with anything,” Maji said. “Smoking, drinking, whatever. You can’t change for someone else. You’ve got to want it for yourself.”

  If Celeste never wanted more than friendship, Erlea wondered, would she go back to smoking? Maybe. To getting wasted at clubs? No. She never wanted to miss her own chance at happiness again, to not be present for her own life. “I get it. Good plan.”

  * * *

  Celeste let herself into the little boat and waved good night to Maji. As she watched her friend ride off on the borrowed scooter, she reflected on how lucky all three of them were to have each other as friends. Now that she had the details, Erlea’s apartment in Barcelona sounded perfect, so close to work and the market as well as private and secure. Weeks ago she would never have dreamed of getting to see where the famous rock star Erlea lived. Today she looked forward to learning more about sweet and sexy Beatriz by sharing her safe haven in the city. Well, not sharing exactly. She’d have her own place by the time her friend came home. Being under the same roof, without the buffer of friends like Maji and Imane, would be too tempting. And no matter what she said about being friends, Celeste still couldn’t stop that feeling she got when their eyes met, or she watched those talented fingers on the strings, or…

  Stop already. Celeste went below to call Hannah and begin making arrangements. But first, she would fulfill the favor Maji asked of her. Celeste didn’t understand why Maji couldn’t talk to Ava herself, but there must be a reason and it was not her business anyway.

  The phone only rang once. Celeste asked the woman who answered if she was Bubbles.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “My name is Celeste. I am a friend of Maji.” The silence stretched. “Hello?”

  “Is she hurt? Just tell me what happened.”

  “No, no—she is well. But she cannot speak with Ava herself, and she asked me to send a message through you. Can you help?”

  Bubbles chuckled. “Brat. She would find a way. But hold on, I can do one better.”

  “Hello?” Apparently Bubbles had put her on hold. Celeste waited.

  “This is Ava. Dr. Guillot?” The melodic voice sounded tired. Celeste remembered that Ava was not only the godmother-therapist but also the friend with cancer.

  “So sorry to disturb you. Maji wanted you to know that she is doing well, sleeping better. Oh, and that work is going well—no, great. And she may not use the plastic surgeon after all.”

  “Thank you for being there for her. And for letting her help you. She needs that, as you probably guessed.”

  How well this woman understood Maji. “Yes. Being a helper is key to her sense of self. She has been brave and kind for everyone here. Including me.”

  “Ah, yes. Are you safe?” Ava paused. “Not to intrude, but Hannah has been expecting your call.”

  Celeste blinked. “Right after I let you go. Which I should do.”

  “Don’t run off yet. We might not get another chance like this.” Ava coughed. “Tell me about the sleep. You didn’t prescribe drugs, did you?”

  “No,” Celeste said, opting not to mention the one bad night on the boat. “Some relaxation techniques and your mint soap.”

  “My what?”

  “The liquid soap. She says it smells like you. So she washed her pillowcase with it.”

  Celeste heard sniffling.

  “Hey,” Bubbles said, back on the line. “Why is Ava crying? Oh, hell, she wants you back. Keep it short.”

  “Hello?” Celeste said. Things were clearly not okay there. “Are you all right?”

  “All good,” Ava replied, sounding like she had pulled herself together. “Now listen. Don’t let Maji off the hook about that scar. It represents much more than the physical to her.”

  “I understand,” Celeste said.

  “No matter how this assignment goes, she will need you.” Ava stopped and sipped something. “Understand? I need to know that someone is there for her.”

  “Are you not going to recover?” Celeste ventured. “Should I try and help her prepare?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I am fighting of course. I’m not ready yet to leave my brave and kind helpers—any of them.” Ava sniffed. “But don’t you dare worry her. Distractions at a time like this can be fatal. Tell her I sounded well. Strong. Understand?”

  “If you think that is best.” Celeste hated to lie to Maji. But she understood. “Yes, I will keep her focused. I am here for her.”

  “Good. And Dr. Guillot? You will be a better coach to your clients for having weathered your own storm.”

  “Thank you. I believe you are right. Please rest now.”

  Ava chuckled. “Another helper, eh? One last thing, then. She knows I love her. But make sure she also knows that I am proud of her. Au revoir.”

  * * *

  Nigel’s nostrils flared. “How can you know it’s him if you don’t even know where he is? What if it’s an impersonator trying to lure Erlea away from the safety of the hotel?”

  “We’re ninety-nine percent certain that it’s really Echeverra,” Dave said. “We’ll have the meet set up in the next few days. We need the lead time to secure the site he’s proposing.” Dave paused, looking to Romero.

  Romero raised a brow as if he wished Dave had stopped sooner. “He wants us to bring her to the Real Cartuja in Valldemossa.”

  “Out of the question,” Nigel said.

  Erlea couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s not your decision.”

  “Send the double, then,” Nigel insisted. “You don’t need to stick your neck out for these people.”

  “My father is not going to hurt me. And I care about peace for my country. And keeping my word.”

  Nigel sighed dramatically. “You’ve become so politicized. First the Basque business, then women’s lib, what’s next? Oh, right. Waving the rainbow banner. If you start writing heroic ballads, you’ll lose your following.”

  “People who don’t like who I am don’t need to buy my music,” Erlea replied with more equanimity than she felt.

  Nigel acted as if she hadn’t even spoken. He addressed the men in the room. “I want a bodyguard with her. And Alejandro. This is a historic moment—at least we can get some footage.”

  “No, this is a private moment,” Erlea protested.

  Nigel deigned to recognize her. “For a public figure of your stature, there are no private moments.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Celeste slipped into the back of the theater, finally coming to observe an Aikido practice as promised. Down on the stage, two red-haired figures in white gis moved in an odd dance of tosses and rolls. No music, no voices, just the occasional whump on the marley or the shushing of a cotton uniform.

  Halfway down the aisle stairs, she spotted Alejandro with his video camera. She crept closer and sat a few seats from him.

  “Good morning,” she whispered. “I meant to see this show sooner, but I kept oversleeping.” Anxiety and anticipation about the move to Barcelona kept her
awake, tossing fretfully at bedtime. Turning her thoughts to Erlea helped but left her feeling hypocritical about insisting they were just friends.

  Alejandro set the camera down and blinked, looking over at Celeste with a smile. “Me, too. I wish I had filmed them sooner. See how it looks like Erlea is battling with herself? It’s great, such a lively metaphor.”

  “Are you sure Erlea is okay with you filming this?”

  He shrugged, looking guilty. “Nigel said to. I’m to shadow her every minute today.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know. He won’t say, but we’re going somewhere and I’m not to tell anyone. Oh.”

  She smiled at his chagrin, his youthful enthusiasm, his good intentions. “Don’t worry. I’m still in the dark. I was expecting to consult on the bungee number today.” No one had mentioned a day off from rehearsals to her.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess they’ll call when she’s back?”

  “Tell you what. You make sure she calls me later, and this conversation never happened. Deal?”

  An hour later, Celeste was packing up her few personal items when the office phone rang. “Dr. Guillot speaking.”

  “Hey, I thought you were coming to rehearsal today,” Erlea said. “I really need you. Unless you’re too busy.”

  “On my way,” Celeste said with a smile. Alejandro must have been mistaken.

  Celeste found the stage crowded with people trying to be helpful. Erlea and Maji wore bungee harnesses, while Imane and Tania and Dimitri took turns giving advice and instruction. The backup dancers loitered nearby while Alejandro stood in the wings filming.

  “Stop,” Erlea demanded, putting her hands to her ears. “Let me breathe.”

  “Yes,” Celeste concurred as she approached. “Give us a minute, please.”

  Imane looked to Celeste, back at a pale and sweaty Erlea, and then at the crowd. “Everybody take fifteen.”

  As they cleared the area, Maji struggled to unbuckle herself.

  “You can stay,” Erlea told Maji, then looked to Celeste for confirmation. “Right?”