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Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

Page 22

by Gemma Halliday


  In Aunt Sue and Aunt Millie’s version, they’d been directed to wait outside when Cal went back in to find me. But, as anyone who’s ever met an octogenarian knows, they never do what they’re told. Instead, the aunts decided to go looking for me on their own, figuring maybe I’d been rushed outside in the crowd ahead of them. They’d gone to the center of Fantasyland, where Millie had hoisted Aunt Sue up onto a lamppost to get a better view of the crowd. They’d stood there scanning the heads that walked past, until she’d spotted mine.

  And I was very glad she had.

  After having to repeat every other question at top volume for Aunt Sue, and printing out a very large print version of her statement for Aunt Millie to read, we were finally cleared to go home by the officers. But before we could leave, a Disney rep came out apologizing profusely for our ordeal and asking us each to sign a set of documents saying we wouldn’t sue them for having allowed Lani into the park armed. When they sweetened the deal with annual passes for us all, we happily agreed.

  But by the time we finally left the security office, the sun was setting, the air was cooling off, and even the aunts were finished with Disney magic for the day. We threaded our way back to Cal’s Hummer, dropped Millie off at her retirement village, then headed to Palm Grove for the first time in days.

  It was finally safe for me to go home.

  Not, mind you, that the condo really resembled a cozy home at the moment. As we stepped through the front door, the scent of industrial cleansers burned our nostrils, a large, bleached spot on the living room rug a reminder of what had happened here. I made a mental note to get the carpets replaced ASAP. Our belongings were still in a state of disarray from the break-in, there was nothing to eat that hadn’t spoiled in the fridge, and the place was like an oven from being sans air conditioner all day. But, still, it was good to finally be home.

  Aunt Sue made a beeline for the kitchen and began immediately dialing for pizza. Which left me awkwardly standing in the doorway alone as Cal checked the place out. So…are you coming in? I asked, suddenly fidgeting with my hands, though I wasn’t really sure why. Cal’s job was over. I was safe, the killer was behind bars. Really, there was no reason for him to stick around.

  Cal’s eyes stopped sweeping and locked squarely onto mine. Do you want me to?

  Oh, boy. That was a loaded question. One I wasn’t really sure I had a loaded answer to. I shrugged my shoulders. I guess I don’t really need protection anymore.

  That isn’t what I asked.

  I bit my lip. I know. Well, I mean, if you’re hungry, Aunt Sue’s ordering pizza. So, if you want to…

  But he cut me off. Do you want me to come in? It’s a simple question, Tina.

  But it wasn’t. And we both knew it. I could feel his eyes intent on me, doing that looking-right-through-you thing.

  I shifted onto my heels. I knew if I said yes, I wasn’t just agreeing to an evening of pizza and chit chat. And while part of me, the part that had melted into Cal’s arms that afternoon, had melted into his kiss the night before, melted every time his dark eyes bore into mine the way they were doing right now, really, really wanted to shout yes at the top of my lungs…somehow I couldn’t make my mouth form the word. What if Cal didn’t really want the kind of pizza I was offering? Or, worse yet, what if he said he did, then changed his mind in the morning? I’ve been around Hollywood long enough to know that guys like Cal didn’t end up with short, purple-haired, funky journalists like me. Guys like Cal ended up with supermodels, leggy blondes, stacked beach bunnies. So, as much as that little hopeful corner of my heart was rearing its ugly little head, my shoulders shrugged again, and I answered, It doesn’t matter to me.

  Cal’s face shut down, expression blank. It doesn’t. A flat statement, not a question.

  I swallowed down a lump of some indefinable emotion. I mean, it’s just pizza, right?

  It is. Again, not a question. He blew out a breath, shook his head. Jesus, Bender, can’t you let go for just a second? Just let the guard down and drop the tough chick attitude.

  I cocked one hip. In case you haven’t noticed, I am a tough chick. I’m sorry if you find my personality so annoying.

  Right. You’re so tough you don’t need anyone. Don’t need any friends, any man. Me.

  I bit my lip. I didn’t say…

  But he didn’t let me finish, his eyes going dark and unreadable behind his thick lashes as his voice rose. Because I’m just a rent-a-goon to you, right? Just the hired muscle. Just some guy to use to your own advantage, just like everyone else in this town, then dismiss as easily as anything when you don’t need him anymore.

  That’s not fair! I protested.

  No, you know what’s not fair? he asked, his fists clenching at his sides as he took a step toward me.

  Instinctively I took one back.

  What’s not fair is I really thought there was more to you, Bender. That beneath that armored shell of yours lay an actual caring human being.

  I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective gesture, hating the way tears suddenly stung the back of my eyelids. You don’t know me, I countered.

  No. You’re right. I don’t. Turns out, I don’t know you at all.

  Those tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I defiantly held them back. I would not cry. I would not show him how much those words hurt. They didn’t. He was right. Had he ever promised to be more than a bodyguard to me? No. He’d done his job. I was alive, the stalker was behind bars, awaiting a trial that would be providing me salacious headlines for months to come. What more did I expect? Your job is done, what do you care? I shouted back.

  His nostrils flared. You think this was all just a job to me?

  I bit my lip. Wasn’t it? Again that nasty little hope flared up. Just a little. Just enough that I felt myself watching his lips anxiously as he replied.

  He shook his head ever so slightly, his expression almost sad now. God, Tina, if you don’t know the answer to that… He trailed off. Then ran a hand through his hair. Clearly it was a job I never should have taken.

  And just like that, the hope died a quick and painful death, shriveling into nothing.

  Well, it’s over now. You can leave, I said, biting the inside of my cheek to keep those damned tears at bay.

  Cal gave me one last look, then spun around and crossed the street.

  I wanted to run after him, apologize, beg forgiveness even though I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d done wrong. How that whole conversation had slipped away from me so quickly, I didn’t know. But nothing about it had been what I’d wanted to say.

  Only I didn’t run after him. I stood with my arms wrapped around my middle as I watched Cal climb into his Hummer, slamming the door shut behind him so violently I was surprised it didn’t fall off its hinges. Then he roared the beast to life and gunned the engine, his tires squealing as he raced out of the complex like he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

  I took a deep breath. I counted to ten. I told those tears if they dared to fall down my cheeks they were dead meat.

  Tina?

  I sniffed hard. Yeah? I answered, my voice only marginally shaky.

  Aunt Sue came up behind me. I ordered a large pepperoni. Cal’s not staying for dinner?

  Do not cry. Don’t you dare cry! No. I cleared my throat, swiping the back of my hand over my damp cheeks. No, Cal’s gone.

  Oh. That’s too bad. Well, I hope you’re hungry at least?

  I turned, pasted a smile on my face, and lied through my teeth. Famished.

  One pizza and three hours later, I’d tucked Aunt Sue into bed with a paperback Nora Roberts and slipped on a pair of sweats, snuggling into my own bed. But, as drained as I was, I wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep yet.

  There was one more person I had to talk to first.

  I grabbed my laptop from my bag and booted it up, barely waiting until the welcome screen had cleared before opening an IM window and hoping he was still up.

  He was.

&nbs
p; My heart lurched as soon as I saw his little online now icon. I quickly typed.

  Hey, Black.

  Hey, Bender. I’d almost given up on you.

  Sorry. Rough day.

  There was a pause. Then, Your column in the Informer this morning have anything to do with that?

  Yeah.

  Tell me.

  So, I did. Everything. From the ridiculousness of our makeshift funeral for Mrs. C. to the chase through the many lands of Small World and Millie’s amazing Sword in the Stone rescue. Black interjected with a lot of Wow’s and Are you okay’s. The only thing I held back was the fight with Cal and the growing bruise it had left in my chest. Though, I guess I mentioned his name enough in my narrative that the first thing Black said when he responded was, So, how do you feel about this Cal guy?

  I bit my lip. I don’t know, I said, truthfully.

  You like him?

  I stared at the screen for a moment. Then typed, Yes. And for some reason my fingers added, More than I should.

  There was a pause. A long one.

  You still there? I typed.

  We should meet.

  I froze. Staring at the words. A mix of excitement and fear washing over me. I had never intended to meet Black. He was my secret. My escape from real life. My fantasy.

  But as I looked at that little blinking cursor, I realized he’d also become the closest thing to a best friend that I’d ever had. Cal was wrong. I wasn’t all hard armor, and I did let my guard down. With Black. I’d confided in him, been comforted by him, was more honest with him that I probably was with anyone in my life.

  So, as much as a protest was backing up in my throat, I felt my fingers typing, When?

  Tomorrow. Noon.

  I swallowed a dry gulp. That was soon.

  Where?

  Griffith Park.

  How will I know you?

  There’s a bench. On the south side of the merry-go-round. Wait for me there.

  This was so You’ve Got Mail. But I found myself nodding at the computer screen anyway. I took a deep breath. My stomach churned like I’d just eaten bad Mexican. And I typed the word, Okay.

  No sooner did it show up on the screen than Black signed off, his little online now icon quickly disappearing as if afraid I might change my mind.

  He was a very perceptive man.

  I turned off my laptop, setting it on the floor as I snuggled into my empty bed. Only I didn’t go to sleep. I was way too keyed up.

  Tomorrow I was meeting Black.

  I awoke early the next morning, a mix of fear and excitement still churning in my belly. I padded into the kitchen to find a note stuck to the coffeemaker from Aunt Sue. Apparently the entire complex was buzzing with the news about Lani’s arrest, and Aunt Sue’s presence was requested at the senior center for breakfast. I smiled, picturing Aunt Sue as the belle of the senior ball for the foreseeable future.

  I made myself a cup of coffee and took it into the living room, dragging my laptop with me. I booted it up and began typing up all of my notes from the day before. But instead of formatting it into the killer story it was, true to my word, I emailed the whole thing to Allie. As much as it pained me to give the blonde my story, I actually had a feeling she’d do it justice.

  Instead, I pulled up a screen and focused on my own column, typing out the headline:

  DISNEYLAND SECURITY NOT UP TO SNUFF WHEN IT COMES TO CELEBRITIES

  Hey, I’d promised not to sue them over it. I hadn’t said anything about keeping my mouth shut. Besides, I was still a little miffed at having that damned Small World theme still stuck in my head. Seriously, if the CIA needs a new torture technique, they need look no further than those singing dolls.

  I finished typing up my column, emailed it to Felix, and jumped in the shower. Once I was clean and smelled like Forest Rain (or so my shampoo promised), I contemplated my closet, anxiety rumbling through my stomach as I tried to pick out the perfect meeting Black for the first time outfit. I tried on a sundress and heels, but, after a quick turn in the mirror, discarded them. Too girly.

  I slipped on a tank top and a pair of khaki capris, but they felt a little too trendy. Again, not really me.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I cared so much. I kept telling myself I was likely meeting some greasy-haired, goober-faced dork and was, in reality, in for an inevitable letdown.

  Still, I tried on a third outfit, finally settling on jeans, my hot pink converse, and a purple T-shirt with a flaming pink skull on the front. Maybe not the trendiest or most feminine, but it was totally me.

  I took a little extra time doing my hair, even gelling the ends, and put on some mascara and lip gloss before grabbing my Strawberry Shortcake purse and heading out the door.

  While meeting Black was all I could think about, it was only ten. So, I took a cab to the Informer’s offices, figuring I’d put in an appearance with Felix first. Not something I was entirely looking forward to, considering the number of unanswered messages he’d left me yesterday, ranging from, I saw the column. Call me back if you value your job, to the less subtle, When I get my hands on you, Bender, I’m gonna… trailing off into a variety of swear words that totaled at least six fifty.

  Still, I made my way up to the second floor and bravely knocked on the glass door to Felix’s office before pushing inside.

  He was bent over his desk next to Allie, heads together, both staring at something on his computer screen. When I walked in, both immediately looked up, guilt marking their faces at being caught in such close proximity.

  Ah, so, um, Allie said, clearing her throat loudly, I’ll, uh, have final copy to you by noon. Then she quickly slunk out, head down even though it did little to hide the blush covering her cheeks.

  Which left me alone with Felix.

  I sucked in courage. Hey, I said, giving a little wave.

  Bender. I was wondering when you’d show up.

  Sorry, I mumbled. It’s been a long couple of days.

  No kidding. Cal just filled me in.

  He was here already? I asked, that bruised feeling hitting me again at the mention of his name.

  Felix’s eyebrows drew together. Yeah. Just left. Why?

  I shook the feeling off, telling myself it didn’t matter. The job was done. Cal was gone.

  I cleared the lump of regret from my throat. No reason. So, um, I got your messages yesterday.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. You know I oughtta fire you for that stunt you pulled.

  I gulped. Yeah, about that…

  But he didn’t let me finish, instead plowing ahead. But considering the story of the century Allie just showed me, I won’t.

  I shut my mouth with a click. Oh. Good. Wow, saved by the blonde. Who’d a thunk it?

  I must say, I’m incredibly impressed. And surprised. Turns out you’re one hell of an investigative reporter.

  I couldn’t help it. A big goofy grin spread across my face. Really?

  ‘Really?’ Are you kidding? You’ve single-handedly solved two murders in the last week. Listen, how would you like a bump from gossip to real news? I could use someone as savvy as you on Hollywood’s front lines. He paused. Then winced only a little as he added, I could maybe even consider a small raise.

  Wow. Felix talking raise was like the Grinch talking Christmas cookies. I took a moment to savor this rare occasion. However, as flattered as I was, I shook my head.

  Thanks. But no thanks.

  Felix opened his mouth to protest, but it was my turn to plow ahead. Hey, I’ll admit I rocked this story. There went that goofy smile again. But my love lies with gossip. My column is my baby. And I couldn’t imagine seeing her in anyone else’s hands. Besides, the celebs in this town trust me to rake, break, and make. I can’t let them down.

  Felix shut his mouth, a rueful grin tugging the corner of his mouth. Okay. You win, Bender. Gossip it is.

  Thanks. Oh, but I will take you up on that raise, I added.

  Again the slight wince, but he covered it well.
Done. And in celebration of my star gossip columnist not only still being alive, but also getting us a story that’s sure to boost circulation by at last 20 percent, I’m taking you to lunch.

  Wow. Felix offering to shell out cash twice in a row? Had Hell frozen over? Seriously? As in, you’re buying?

  He nodded. Absolutely. Then he crossed the newsroom, grabbed the Swear Pig from my desk, and turned it upside down, dumping a pile of quarters onto his desk. There’s got to be at least twenty bucks here. Where do you want to go?

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Tell you what, I have somewhere to be today. How about a rain check? Cool? I asked.

  Felix shrugged. Suit yourself.

  I turned to go.

  Hey, Bender? Felix called.

  I spun around. Yeah?

  Nice work.

  I grinned. Thanks, boss. And he’d better believe that I was going to cash in on that free lunch that I’d paid for.

  But not today.

  Today, I had other plans.

  Griffith Park covers more than ten square miles at the east end of the Santa Monica Mountains. One of the largest parks in North America, it’s home to such attractions as the Los Angeles Zoo, the Griffith Observatory and Planetarium, and the famed Hollywood sign.

  The merry-go-round was located near the Los Feliz entrance, close to the zoo. I found it easily by following the squeals and shouts of happy children carrying over the vast expanse of lawn. I walked around the perimeter, finding an empty bench on the south side, and sat down.

  I jangled my knees up and down. I tapped my fingers on the armrest. I whistled off key along with the organ music being pumped in time with the twirling horses.

 

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