Between Friends (Between the Raindrops #3)

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Between Friends (Between the Raindrops #3) Page 16

by Susan Schussler


  “It would still suck.” I pull my water bottle from the fridge and turn before announcing, “Chase wants to get back together.” I open the cover and take a sip.

  “I thought you were already back with him. You mean there is still hope you won’t?” asks Jessica. “I just assumed, because he’s been over so often lately.”

  “We are not getting back together. Especially if he’s stalking my phone.”

  “He was stalking your phone?” asks Alli.

  “I guess. Liam only told Jon and me about his brother’s intervention and it came out in the press. I only told you guys. How else could it have leaked? You know I didn’t sell it, not with my history with the press,” I say.

  “I figured Chase talked you into it. He could always talk you into whatever suited him,” says Alli.

  I glare at her. Seriously? “You figured Chase talked me into selling secrets to the tabloids? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “That’s not what she meant. We know you wouldn’t,” says Jessica. She always tries to smooth over Alli’s blunt words.

  I look between the two of them. “Whatever.” I still can’t believe Alli said that. “So what do I say to Chase tomorrow when I confront him?”

  “Can I watch when you do it?” asks Jessica. “Because he has been so cocky lately when he comes over and he asked me if I would be interested in a naked sandwich. I smacked him. He’s lucky I didn’t remove his balls with my foot.”

  “I can’t believe he asked you that.” I totally believe it. “After tomorrow you won’t ever have to see him again. So what should I say to him? I’m going to switch my phone back to my old one tomorrow morning, and I was thinking about throwing the one he gave me at his head. Or should I take out his baby maker? What do you think?”

  “I’d go for the face. So he has to explain the black eyes and broken nose to everyone he sees. His junk, he can hide.” Jessica smiles as if she can picture the encounter.

  “Don’t forget to tell him how good Liam was in bed,” adds Alli.

  “I never slept with Liam. I told you that.”

  Alli smiles and rolls her eyes again as if she doesn’t believe me.

  “I will admit if he offered I would have, but he promised Jon he wouldn’t, and we didn’t.”

  “Stop lying,” says Alli with her sugary smile.

  “I am not talking about this anymore. He and I are just friends. Accept it and move on.” I take a large gulp of water and twist the cover back on. “Hopefully he’ll forgive me for what Chase did because I really like him.”

  “Hold onto that. It will help you when you tell Chase off tomorrow.” Jessica smiles. “I can help you kick him to the curb, if you want.”

  “No, I can handle it.” And I think I can. He doesn’t control me anymore. Ever since I met Liam, Chase’s power over me has diminished. I just don’t feel the same level of chemistry with him as I used to feel.

  ***

  When eleven o’clock rolls around the next day, Chase is late. I rushed back from the cell phone store for nothing. He doesn’t show until almost noon.

  “Hey, babe.” He kisses the side of my head. “I got hung up in a meeting with my business partners.” I catch the hint of a girl’s perfume and I am confident he overslept after spending the night with its wearer.

  I give him an insincere smile and direct him upstairs. He sits on my bed, kicking his shoes off, and then leans back against my white headboard.

  “You comfortable?”

  He smiles a dirty smile and pats the bed next to him. I shake my head and his smile fades. “If you don’t want to get back together, why did you ask me over?”

  I hold up the phone he gave me and say, “I want you to explain how my personal conversations are being leaked to the media.”

  “What are you talking about, babe?”

  I can’t read him. He could be surprised I am confronting him or he could actually have no knowledge of it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks at me, his blue puppy-dog-eyes wide.

  “My private conversations are being leaked to the press. Did you put a stalker app on the phone you gave me?” I throw the phone at him and it hits him hard in the chest. I missed.

  “Is there a stalker app on your phone?” He picks it up off the bed, where it bounced, and lights up the screen. “It was new when I bought it. I paid a premium price. It should be clean.”

  “Why did you give me the phone? Were you looking for a way to fund your new business?”

  “My business funds itself.” He shakes his head.

  “How did the story about Liam’s brother’s intervention end up in the tabloids then?”

  “How the hell should I know? Maybe he leaked it himself. Isn’t that what narcissists do, leak crap and pretend to be surprised when it blows up the internet?”

  “He’s blaming me. I’m the only one he told.” Let’s face it, Jon didn’t leak Liam’s story. I get that. I’d blame me too, if I didn’t know it was Chase. “He didn’t leak it. You are such an ass. No one would do that to themselves.”

  “I don’t know the guy, but it just sounds like something a cable actor would do to get his name out there. Look at all the reality stars who were nothing before leaking their sex tapes. Free publicity, it sells.”

  “Did you sell my phone conversations to the vultures?” I stare him down with my hands on my hips. “Tell me the truth.” I know he did it. People don’t change.

  “It’s me, Meg. What would my motivation be? Seriously, I have enough money to fund a small country. I don’t need the microscopic dollars any story about him would bring. I’ll show you. Do you want to see my bank accounts? My stock portfolio? What do I have to do to prove to you I didn’t do it?”

  “Show me.”

  He looks at me and rolls his eyes as if he can’t believe I’m making him show me. Then he takes out his phone and pulls up a web page. It’s a bank site. He’s got hundreds of thousands of dollars just sitting there and more in stock. He couldn’t just pull this out of his butt. It has to be real, but is it his, or his company’s?

  “All this is yours?”

  He scrolls to the top of the page and points to his name. “That’s my name.”

  “In your company’s account, you mean? It’s not just yours.”

  “It’s all mine, babe. It’s my personal account. See? Only my name.”

  “So you didn’t put a stalker app on my phone and sell Liam’s story?”

  “Why would I waste my time? Honestly, your phone is clean. It’s the best phone I could buy, I doubt anyone put anything on it. I think it probably has an app that notifies you of that.”

  Okay, now I feel stupid. “You promise you didn’t leak anything to the press?”

  “I promise, Meg.”

  Damn him. He has that cocky look which tells me not to believe him. I don’t know what to do. “I can’t tell if you’re lying. I switched my number to my old phone this morning. You can have yours back.”

  He takes the phone and stuffs it into his back pocket. “If that’s what you need to do to trust me, fine. I’ll do whatever it takes. I will be here for you and I would never accuse you of selling my secrets. The guy’s got to be a complete douchebag to believe you would do that kind of shit.”

  I don’t know if he’s being passive aggressive implying that I’m a douchebag for accusing him or if he is really talking about Nordstrom.

  “I think I just need some space for a while until I get this all figured out. Can you respect that?”

  “I can as long as you don’t block me or change your number again. I won’t bug you, just a text here and there. My company is releasing a new app in June, and I will be crazy busy getting ready for the launch. Then once it’s out we’ll probably be patching problems. It’s been in beta for a year, but there are always glitches that don’t show until the release.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know you were working on anything.”

  “It’s a big deal, bigger
than Mad Moronic Monkeys, at least in bringing in the dollars. There are way more micro transactions and we’re not selling the rights. We’ve got a huge following. Like I said, I’m going to be super busy, so you take all the time you need.” He pats the phone in his back pocket and adds, “I love you, Meg. Don’t let Sarah and some attention grabbing Hollywood actor make you doubt that.” He kisses my cheek, and walks out the door, without looking back.

  I don’t know what it is, but I still don’t trust him. He obviously didn’t do it. He had no motivation. But he’s not innocent—he did something.

  Chapter 17

  Liam

  DESPERATE TO FIND Seth, about a month ago, my parents lifted the gag order about sharing family problems and as the wall between our public and private lives became transparent, it transformed into a circus. In this ring, Seth’s high school friends. It turns out Seth’s secret drug habit wasn’t news to them. The few I was able to get a hold of said his problem was worse than we thought. He wasn’t just using designer shit, which is like Russian roulette as it is, but he hooked up with some harder core users as well. With him out of school, right before graduation, everyone at his school has heard the rumors of his disappearance.

  In the other ring, my studio. I was right to think they would capitalize on my rehab stint. It’s all over the tabloids bringing the show loads of exposure at my expense. I read an article this morning about how next season, my character would be going to treatment for his prescription drug habit. When they wrote my motorcycle accident into the mid-season finale last year I thought it was great. The accident happened while we were filming and I was just happy to still have a job after taking time off to heal. But, the article feeds the publicity to another level. Apparently, my Ashton Post character is a mirror image of me, and the show’s writers don’t ever struggle for content because they just copy my real life into the storyline. I know it’s BS, but it still irritates me that the studio sanctions such garbage.

  Finally, in the center ring, my mom’s foundation friends blare insincere offers of help and prayers. Mom’s colleagues may act the act, but we all know they are more concerned they will lose their top fundraiser before the fiscal deadlines are met. The positive in all the mess is Mom has found a friend in Blair Halbrook, the woman whose son overdosed two years ago and whose daughter first brought Seth’s problem to Mom and Dad’s attention. She’s been giving Mom useful advice about not worrying about what other’s think as long as we find my brother. She’s right. Nothing is as important as finding Seth safe.

  With that in mind, my parents and I have contacted all the hospitals and police departments in the area hoping for information that could lead us to Seth, but so far there hasn’t even been a legitimate sighting of him. Of course, the missing person’s report filed evoked more negative press for my parents and more exposure for me and the show.

  It’s been almost three months since Seth disappeared. I really thought the lure of his trust fund would bring him home as soon as his birthday passed, but either he can’t find his way back or he’s found a way to get by without the money. He probably got by for a while living off others. He could be living in his car, but if he’s still burning through money like he was before he left, then he’s probably hawked it by now or forgot where he parked it. I’ve seen enough movies to imagine what he would have to do to survive on the street. That thought rips a hole in me I can’t patch.

  This afternoon Nak and I are going to ask around at the homeless shelters. There is one that caters to youth between the ages of fifteen and twenty-one. We hope the people there may have seen him. The money for his car is most likely drying up. With the car’s title still in my parents’ names, the car wouldn’t have brought its worth. For as much as I complain about my parents neglect in raising me, I realize not having a roof over my head and food to eat is a problem that never crossed my mind until now.

  When Nak arrives, we head to the first shelter on the list. It’s the youth shelter. A large guy, who resembles a bouncer who once threw me out of a bar, gives us a tour as if we are looking for a place to fund for the next year. The thought occurs to me that if we find Seth here my mother will do just that.

  “We don’t really have anyone who fits your brother’s description. The kids will be in the cafeteria for lunch any minute. If they want food, they have to eat with everyone else. You can walk around and talk to them, but don’t ask too many questions. These kids spook easily. If they think you’re cops, you’ll clear out the shelter,” the bouncer dude continues, guiding us through a long cement-block hallway and through a double door into the cafeteria.

  “Do you get many drug users?” I ask, hoping to hone in on them right away.

  “We get mostly runaways, some mental health problems, some prostitution. The kids have to be clean to stay here or clean enough to fake it. If they sell themselves or drugs on the property, they get banned from the facility.”

  I show him Seth’s picture again. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

  “Doesn’t look familiar. You can ask Eddie over there. He’s been volunteering here for three years. He knows everyone who comes through here.” He points to a guy lining a garbage can with a bag, and Nak and I walk over toward the guy.

  “Are you Eddie?” Nak asks and the guy nods.

  “I’m looking for my brother and we were wondering if you’d seen him.”

  He takes the picture I hold up, flips up his glasses, and brings the photo closer to his eyes. “It’s hard to say. How long has he been gone?”

  “Three months. He was using when he left,” I add. This guy gives off a vibe of someone who really cares for the kids.

  “The druggies can’t stay here. Have you tried the shelter on Stanford?” He hands back Seth’s photo.

  “We were there last week. We’ve also been to the ones on Celia and Renteria. We were going to check them again today just in case he came this week. He had a car when he left but we figure he probably sold it for drugs,” I say.

  “Have you tried the warehouse on Fourth? The white brick one—the fourth floor. It’s bad down there. Think worst-case scenario and multiply it by ten.”

  “No, we haven’t tried there yet. Is there anywhere else we should check out?” I ask.

  “Helena Park. There’s a lot of prostitution, but it’s mostly drug-related. Oh, and there’s a place in Little Korea I heard about, near Third, but I’m not sure exactly where it is.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I say handing him the card Mom had printed with a picture of Seth, his name, and a contact number to call if he’s seen.

  He takes the card and puts it into his wallet.

  Nak and I watch the kids file into the room. They are a mix of badass and beaten down. Seth isn’t here. We wait until the tables are filled before we approach them. They don’t even look at his picture before denying they’ve seen him. On our way out, a girl stops us, asking who we’re looking for. Her hair is stringy brown, her eyes hollow, but she’s willing to look at Seth’s photo.

  I may have seen this guy a week ago down near the bus station.”

  “Was he getting on a bus?” asks Nak.

  “I don’t know. I sat down next to him on the bench. We talked for a couple of minutes.”

  “What did he say?”

  She shrugs. “The only reason I remember him is because I thought he was cute and he had expensive shoes.”

  “What was he wearing?” I ask. I know what he left the house in because Mom and Dad watched the security video of him leaving the house, but I want to know how disheveled he is after three months.

  “I don’t know. Jeans? All I remember is his shoes. They were like yours.”

  I look down at the green suede court shoes I’m wearing, remembering the server’s remark about him having the same shoe. This is the first real lead we’ve gotten. Even the private detective Dad hired hadn’t produced anything substantial. Last week. That’s good news. “Can you tell us anything else you remember?”


  “He was quiet. A lot of guys get all handsy with me, but he didn’t. I wouldn’t have minded with him.”

  “Thanks.” I hand her the card with Seth’s face and tell her to call the number if she sees him again.

  “Is there a reward?” she asks.

  Nak purses his lips, and I quickly answer. I know he’s thinking she’s just looking for money.

  “If you call with a tip that leads to us finding him, you could get up to a couple thousand.” I’ll pay it out of my own pocket if I have to. My parents were told attaching a reward to our search would cause a flood of false sightings, but that was a month ago. We’re more desperate now. I pull a fifty from my wallet and hand it to the girl. She stuffs it into her pocket and walks backward toward the dorm door as if I’m going to ask for it back. She smiles her first smile as she turns to walk through the door.

  “That was a real lead?” Nak sounds surprised. “I figure you wouldn’t give her money if you didn’t believe her.” He holds the door for me to exit. “To the bus station?”

  “Yep.”

  We hit the bus station and the two other shelters we visited last week before showing up in front of the white brick building on Fourth that Eddie told us about. It’s our last resort. I’m supposed to leave for Jon and Sarah’s wedding next week. I need to find Seth before I leave. The building looks abandoned. I pull on the one door as Nak pulls on the other. Both are locked. I peer through the cracked glass of the door, cupping my hand over my eyes to cut the glare. “There’s no one inside.”

  I start walking toward the narrow passage between the white brick building and the one next to it.

  “You know, since Leslie and I are dating again, I’m like a sister to Jonathan Williams.”

  “I won’t sleep with you then.” I smile because I know he’s implying Jon wouldn’t be happy with me if he got killed today.

  “We’ll be fine.” I hope.

  Chapter 18

  Liam

 

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