He shook his head in disgust, and walked away.
“Wow. Not much has changed between you two,” I said.
She rubbed her forehead. “He just pisses me off so much some times. Always acting like a fucking baby.”
“He did offer to help,” I pointed out.
“I don’t want his help. Besides, he’d probably be wasted the entire time, and be more of a pain in the ass than anything.”
“Does he really drink that much?”
“Taylor says that Ransom is out of control, and doesn’t care about anyone or anything.”
“How does Taylor know about all of this?” I asked.
“He hears about everything. He’s like a walking tabloid of information.”
“Tabloid?”
“A lot of that stuff is true, you know,” she said. “Just a little exaggerated.”
“That’s what I keep hearing, but I still find it hard to believe that these tabloids know what’s going on behind closed doors.”
“Oh, they have their ways,” she said. “Anyway, Taylor says that it’s pretty common knowledge in Hollywood that Ransom is into a lot of things; not just booze and women.”
I stared at her in shock. “You think he’s doing drugs?”
“Taylor said that he is,” she answered as we walked away from the casket.
“Has he actually seen him do drugs?”
She opened up her purse, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “He doesn’t have to. Like I said, he hears everything, and has connections all over town. Look, Ransom is a heavy-duty partier, and the only thing he has going for him, is his agent, who keeps him in line. Taylor said that he was even late for Icon the other day, and didn’t give a shit. Hell, he almost got kicked off the show. Talk about pathetic! I mean the guy is making millions, and it’s all due to Icon.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“I’ve mentioned it, but he denies the drugs.”
“And you still don’t believe him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Obviously, he has a problem with booze. Why would drugs be so hard to believe?”
“That’s too bad,” I said, scanning the room for Ransom, who was nowhere in sight.
“Enough about him. I’m going to have a smoke, and make some phone calls. There’s a buffet set up downstairs, if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” I said, although I’d lost my appetite.
She kissed my cheek. “Thanks again for coming, hon. If you can’t stick around, I understand.”
“No, I can stay, for as long as you need me.”
“Thanks. I’ll find you in a little while. Go check out the food,” she said, walking away.
“Okay,” I replied.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Besides Ransom, I didn’t know anyone else and I wasn’t interested in eating. Wondering if he was really doing okay, I decided to go in search of him.
I left the viewing area and went downstairs to the lower level of the funeral home. Noticing he wasn’t near the buffet table, which was currently being raided by a bunch of young kids, I wandered down another hallway, until I found him sitting alone, in what appeared to be some kind of waiting room. As I drew closer, I noticed him sipping from a small brown bag, and staring silently into space.
“Hi,” I said, stopping in the doorway.
He looked up from the sofa he was on, and grinned. “Hi yourself.”
I walked inside and crossed my arms under my chest. “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh… just easing the pain a little,” he said holding up the bottle. “You want some?”
“No, thank you.”
He took a swig. “Suit yourself.”
I nodded towards the bottle. “So, is it helping?”
He smiled humorlessly. “No, not really. But, it’s the best friend I have these days.”
I sat down next to him on the flowered sofa, which was as hard as a rock. “So, what’s your poison?”
“Tequila,” he replied, taking another swig.
“Ah. I drank Tequila once.”
He wiped his mouth and smiled. “Only once?”
“Yes. I was nineteen, underage. I went to a party with some of the girls from my Cosmetology school.” I sat back and chuckled, remembering how I’d slept next to the toilet, vowing to never touch another ounce of alcohol as long as I lived. “We all got so wasted, I think I lost five pounds the next day, I threw up so much.”
“Funny, Tequila never gets me sick. Well, unless I mix it with other booze. I’ve learned to just stick with what I know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tequila with a splash of soda. We know each other well.”
I looked at the bottle. “With a splash? You seemed to have forgotten your splash today.”
He chuckled, that low rumbly sound that always made me smile. “Guess so.”
I sighed. “Are you okay?”
Ransom looked straight ahead. “Explain ‘okay’.”
I reached over, and touched his arm. Even now he was so tense. “Are you handling all of this?”
Relaxing slightly, he stared at my fingers and smirked. “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off of me.”
I quickly removed it. “Changing the subject?”
He grabbed my hand, and put it back on his arm. “Only if you stop touching me.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot the last few days,” he said, licking his lips. “Even with mom’s death and all.”
“Oh?” I whispered, wondering what exactly he’d been thinking.
He touched my cheek. “There’s something so… refreshing about you. So…. good and clean.”
I laughed nervously. “It could just be the cucumber melon shower gel. It is pretty refreshing.”
His face broke into a wide grin.
I smiled back. “Or-”
Before I could finish, he lowered his mouth to mine, his lips even softer than I’d remembered.
Sighing in pleasure, I closed my eyes and slid my hand behind his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue slid into my mouth and I greeted it with enthusiasm.
Tequila had never tasted so good.
I knew without a doubt that I still had it bad for this guy. I’d never met anyone who’d taken my breath away or made my heart skip so many beats. Then there were the butterflies in my stomach, all racing with excitement. I wondered if God would forgive me for feeling this happy during such a morbid time.
“What the fuck is going on in here?”
We broke away and stared at Remy, who was glowering at both of us in the doorway.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” asked Ransom.
“The door is open,” she replied, stepping inside. “God, Ransom… isn’t it enough that you have to fuck every willing fan within miles, but now you just have to take advantage of one of my dearest friends?”
He stood up. “I wasn’t taking advantage of Tiffany. Anyway, why don’t you mind your own business? This has nothing to do with you.”
She glared at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Drinking at mom’s wake and… fucking with Tiffany’s mind and God knows what else?” she said turning towards me. “Don’t let him use you like this. Not only is he just out for a piece of ass, he wants you off of Icon. He said he’d do whatever it takes to get you off of the show, and obviously, it includes seduction.”
My cheeks turned red. I stood up. “I… this…”
“Shut up, Remy,” ordered Ransom. “That has nothing to do with this. Quit trying to confuse the hell out of her.”
I turned back to him. “You’re really seriously trying to get me off of the show? But why?”
Before he could answer, Remy spoke up.
“That is a good question, and, obviously, he’ll stop at nothing, to do it,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Hell, it’s only obvious that he called the media to
let them know he was getting his hair cut at your salon the other day. What do you think would happen if Icon found out about that? He’s a judge and you’re a contestant. I doubt they’d let that slide.”
I stared at Ransom in disbelief. “You called the news-people?”
“No, of course not,” he replied, angrily. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“Oh, come on! How else would they have found out, Tiff?” asked Remy. “Did Ransom make an appointment?”
“No,” I said, staring at the wall. “He didn’t.”
“Well, there you go. Someone tipped them off! He already told me that he wants you off of Icon. He chose your salon when he already has a hair designer that will cut his hair whenever needed. The media show up on that day, at that hour. Coincidence?”
My eyes filled with tears. She had to be right. There was no other way they could have found out about it.
“Why are you being such a bitch?” asked Ransom.
“Why are you doing this to Tiffany?” she bit back. “You should be rooting for her!”
He turned back to me. “I didn’t call the media. I ran out the back door. Why would I do that if I would have called them?”
“Hello? To look innocent!” she hollered.
I didn’t know who to believe. If Ransom was trying to get me kicked off of the show, however, than his kisses meant nothing. “Look, I have to go,” I said, grabbing my purse from the sofa. “I’ll see you both tomorrow at the funeral.”
“Wait,” said, Ransom as I moved towards the door. He grabbed my arm. “Don’t leave yet. Please. We need to talk.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I should really get home. I… I have laundry to do.”
“Let her go,” said Remy. “You’ve confused her enough.”
“I swear, I didn’t call those reporters,” he said, touching my cheek. “You have to believe me.”
Remy pulled me away from him. “Leave her alone, big brother. Go back to your bottle. Besides music, it’s the only other thing you’re good at.”
“Why are you such a cold-hearted bitch?” he asked.
She smiled coldly. “Why are you such a lying prick?”
I kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry Rem, I have to go. I’ll see you at the funeral tomorrow,” I said and then rushed out of the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Ransom
After Tiffany left, I was so pissed off at Remy, I wanted to throttle her.
“Good going,” I snapped, grabbing my bottle from the end table. “Now she thinks I’m lying.”
“Oh, and you’re not?” she asked folding her arms under her chest.
I glared at her. “No. For your information I had nothing to do with that. Yeah, fine, I did go to the salon to try and talk her out of the contest, but I did not call the press.”
Her cell phone started ringing. She pulled it out of her purse and stared at the phone. “It’s Taylor again. Look, just leave Tiffany alone, Ransom. You have no business putting the moves on my best friend. I won’t have you hurting her.”
“I’m not out to hurt her,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“Christ, Ransom, face it, you hurt everyone. It’s in your nature,” she replied before answering the phone.
“This is bullshit,” I mumbled. “I’m outta here.”
She glared at me as I walked around her, and pulled out my own phone. I dialed Tiffany, but she didn’t answer.
“Fuck.”
From the look in her eyes, it was obvious that she still believed that I’d called the reporters. The thought of her thinking that I deceived her made me sick to my stomach. I needed to set her straight.
I shoved the bottle of tequila into my waistband, walked back to the viewing room, and pulled one of my cousins, Scott, aside.
“Can you give me a lift somewhere?” I asked the young eighteen year old. I hadn’t seen him in three years. Now he was ripped, sported a crew cut, and there was talk of him entering the army.
He stared at me in surprise, and then nodded solemnly. “Of course, man. Hey, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
“I loved Aunt Carol,” he said. “She made the best strawberry cheesecake and apple pies.”
I smiled. “That she did.”
He waved his hand towards the other guests. “Don’t you need to stick around?”
I noticed Remy stepping back inside and shook my head. “No. It’s getting too crowded in here. I need some fresh air.”
He looked over at my sister, who was scowling at us. It wasn’t a secret that Remy had a temper, and liked to boss the cousins around, along with her older brother. “I hear that. Well, whenever you’re ready.”
Remy started walking towards us.
“Now is good,” I replied.
***
Ransom
It was just after ten o’clock by the time we pulled up to Tiffany’s apartment building. Instead of heading to her place directly from the funeral home, we’d driven around town, talking about the family, and the good old days.
As we parked, I pulled out the brown bag and took a generous swig.
Liquid courage.
“Hey, can I have a drink?” asked Scott.
I frowned. “You’re not legal.”
“Come on… were you legal when you started?”
I wasn’t, but there was no way I’d divulge that information to my young, impressionable cousin. One set on getting into the military. “We’re talking about you, not me. Besides, you shouldn’t drink and drive.”
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I do it all the time, man. I can handle it. Just a swig?”
“Nah, but here,” I said, pulling out my wallet. I handed him a hundred dollar bill. “Go buy yourself a burger or taco somewhere.”
His face lit up. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. Least I can do.”
He pulled out his wallet and stuck the bill inside. “What’s it like being a super-star, Ransom? You must have chicks throwing themselves at you night and day.”
That’s the first question guys always asked me, how much ass was I getting? I chuckled. “You could say that.”
“I wish I had your life.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“Sorry, bud, I don’t have time to explain it right now. Just be thankful of what you have, and never sell out for anything.”
“Sell out?”
“Always read the small print.”
“Oh. So, I thought you’d have a big mansion in Beverly Hills,” he said, nodding towards the apartment building.
“I don’t live here, but I don’t live in Beverly Hills either,” I said, opening the car door.
He put his arm on the seat and stared up at me as I got out. “So, where’s your home then?”
I smirked. “Where the heart is. Unfortunately, I’ve been told I don’t have one.”
He chuckled. “Oh hell. You don’t need one. You’re Ransom. People will love you no matter what.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Whoever murdered my mother may have been someone who really hated me. She was one of the sweetest women alive, and I couldn’t imagine someone shooting her randomly. “Go eat or call one of your girlfriends up,” I told him. “Just stay away from drinking. It’ll get you in trouble.”
He stared at the bag in my hand. “Right.”
I looked down at the bag, guiltily. “I suppose I should practice what I preach.”
“No, man, it’s cool. It’s what you do. Everyone knows that.”
I stood up straight. “I’ll catchya later, Scott. Drive safely.”
“You too, man.”
I closed the door, and watched as he left the parking lot. Then I walked over to the garbage dumpster, and threw the bottle away, wincing at the loud noise that echoed in the darkness. Swearing under my breath, I walked to Tiffany’s building, stepped into the lobby and buzzed
her apartment. Unfortunately, she didn’t answer.
Fuck.
I stepped back outside and glance up at the top apartment on the left.
Her light was on.
I smiled. Bingo.
Quietly, I stepped over to the private patio two floors below, and then hoisted myself to the second floor deck, and kept going until I was on her deck, grateful that the sound of the air-conditioning units blocked most of the noise. I then pulled out my phone, and sent her a text, informing her that I was on her balcony.
Ten seconds later, her light went out and the glass door slid open. “What in the hell are you doing?” she whispered, glaring at me angrily.
I stared down at her, and got an immediate hard-on. She had on a short, white, sleeveless nightgown that was decorated with tiny hearts, and it was more than obvious that she was braless. Her nipples hardened under my gaze and she folded her arms across her chest.
“You weren’t answering my calls,” I whispered back.
She scowled. “I was sleeping.”
I smirked. “With the lights on?”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
I nodded towards her apartment. “Can we talk inside? Someone might notice me.”
She immediately opened the door and stepped back.
Biting back another smile, I stepped into her living room, and watched as she shut the door.
“Is that what you sleep in?”
She looked down. “Um, yes. I’m going to put on a robe. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “Slow down there. This won’t take long.”
“What won’t take long?”
I’d come to explain myself. To tell her that she was too good for Icon. That there were other ways for her to start a singing career. That once they had her in their claws, they’d own her soul, and she’d be miserable like me. But instead, all I could do was stare down into her blue eyes and wade in their depths. “Do you believe me? About the reporters?”
“I don’t know, I mean I want to believe you wouldn’t be that horrible.”
“I swear to God, I didn’t call them. I wouldn’t sink that low. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
She stared up at me, searching my eyes. “I sincerely hope not.”
Tangled Mess Page 11
