“I really hate you,” I muttered, not meaning it one bit.
The only one more surprised than me, by my presence at a meeting I had no business attending, was James. Mika and I walked through the marble entrance of a fancy hotel. A doorman had even tipped his top hat and called me “Miss” as he pulled the door wide for me to walk through. I paused briefly by a large, gold-plated mirror and fussed with my hair one last time. It was slightly frizzier than usual, but still acceptable. And while my outfit felt too casual, it would have to do, too. I silently wished I’d purchased a top to go along with those cute navy pants I’d been forced to stuff back into my closet. They’d have made me feel a lot more prepared for what I was getting into.
James had been seated in an incredibly uncomfortable looking chair off to the left of the front desk. He was quick to hide the discomfort he experienced seeing me and held out a hand to greet Mika, who was several steps ahead of me. As I approached and the two men parted, James pasted a stiff smile on his face and shifted from foot to foot. When I paused in front of him, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. I’d promptly reached out for a hug, which placed us in an awkward hug/kiss just left of the lips situation. We both laughed it off in a way that only very uncomfortable people can. As soon as James turned away, I shot Mika a look as if to say, “that was all your fault,” to which he just grinned. I wanted to punch him.
“Surprised to see you here, Marian. Haven’t heard from you in a few weeks,” James said nonchalantly as he gathered his papers, which were piled on the small side table next to the chair.
“Surprised to be here,” I admitted. “Didn’t realize I was needed. But it turns out that there are a few conversations I’ve been left out of lately.”
James shifted and turned to Mika. “I thought we were going to tell her together.”
Mika shrugged and shoved a hand deep into the pocket of his neatly pressed slacks. “It slipped,” he admitted. “She’s very persuasive.”
“I’m sure,” James scoffed, neatly stuffing his papers into a stack. “Carmen is upstairs. Presidential Suite.” He breezed past me, not even bothering with a glance in my direction. Mika followed after him quickly. I sighed heavily and kicked at the ground. So far, this was not going nearly as smoothly as I’d have liked. “You coming?” James called over his shoulder as an elevator dinged open.
“Yeah,” I murmured, jogging over to join them.
Of course, the elevator consisted completely of mirrors on the inside. I made my way to a back corner and shrank into it as much as possible. I noticed James remove what looked like a room key from his pocket. As the doors to the elevator closed, he inserted the key just above the individual buttons for each floor. He then pressed the top button, labeled “P,” and our car began to whoosh upwards. The ride was a long one. It was made longer by the terrible piano music playing overhead at full volume. I tried to stare at my feet but that seemed rude in such close quarters. I looked up and tried to think of something to say, but both James and Mika stood stern, mentally prepping for their meeting with a movie star. I’d have probably been freaking out a little myself, were I not so distracted by my own personal dilemmas.
Carmen Suarez was a well-known acting talent. A beautiful woman, she boasted Bolivian blood and had a voluptuous body that made women scream with envy and men fall at her feet. Her accent was as thick, her hair long and her eyes were liquid chocolate. Her smile could stop your heart if you let it. She was the driving force behind just about every action movie centered around a female heroine in the last two years. People tripped over themselves buying tickets to midnight showings. What was more, her celebrity increased when it was discovered that her family was heavily involved in the mob. In fact, Carmen’s father was the head of an incredibly powerful family. While you’d think that Carmen’s stardom would cut into her father’s business, it only seemed to drive him towards more power. Chicago police suspected Jose Suarez of at least 20 murders they were unable to link him to. Los Angeles police easily suspected him of double that number. Somehow Jose remained untouchable, his daughter’s star remained on the rise and Mika, James and I would be standing in the middle of it for the next 24 hours.
I’d convinced Carmen’s assistant to book her for the Food Porn shoot almost two months ago. An adorable Bolivian restaurant had opened on the west side of Milwaukee. What was more, when Addison and I went there for lunch, the food presented to us was bright, beautifully arranged and begging for an audience. Somehow, the place was still struggling to make ends meet. I’d mistakenly pitched the idea of a Food Porn photo shoot to the elderly matriarch who ran the kitchen. Needless to say, she practically ran us out of the restaurant. Later I made another effort, this time with the son who worked there on nights and weekends. He was probably in college and, I hoped, a fan of the magazine. My gamble paid off. Not only was he a huge fan, but so was his father, his sister and his cousin, who also happened to be at the restaurant the day I returned. They’d agreed wholeheartedly to the shoot and we’d jokingly tossed around Carmen’s name as I made my way out the door, high on the idea of helping the little restaurant generate more business. They just needed to hang on a little bit longer.
I’d found myself wondering on the drive home if the idea of Carmen really was all that crazy to consider. After all, I’d had famous faces in the studio before. Some as famous as Carmen herself. Surely, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to consider her as a prospect.
Addison had used her contacts through the newspaper to find Carmen’s people. After leaving several messages, I finally got a call back. Carmen was thrilled to be asked to pose for Food Porn. In fact, it had been on her list of New Year resolutions. She was even more excited when she discovered she’d be posing on behalf of a family-owned Bolivian restaurant back in the Midwest. The only trouble was going to be finding enough food to cover her voluptuousness. Still, it was a challenge that I was willing to rise to, if it meant having her name on the cover. The magazine was completely free to the public, both in print and digital versions. We kept it going through advertisers and the occasional bakery or restaurant that wanted to buy their way into an edition. If Carmen couldn’t convince ad execs and the general public that we were worth reading this year, no one could. Her appearance could potentially fund the remainder of our year, well into next, if we played our cards right.
I was beyond thrilled that she’d agreed. Normally I’d be terrified to meet such a big star, but I was so distracted by my James and Mika dilemma, I didn’t even realize we were standing in the hall of the Presidential Suite until I heard a sharp accent echo off of the marble walls. “Darlings!” Carmen squealed with glee as she clacked towards us in nude-colored heels. I surveyed her appreciatively. She was much taller than I had expected. Even without the heels, she probably measured in at, at least 5′10″. Her skin was a silky smooth olive color, her hair flying behind her in soft black waves. She had a beauty mark just under her left eye, made all the more pronounced by the dark eye makeup she was sporting. She was wearing a low-cut black sweater and a gray pencil skirt that hugged her muscular thighs and butt in all the right places.
James was definitely taking in her assets and I felt myself begin to slowly stew with jealousy. I refused to check in on Mika to see if he was doing the same thing. That would really send me through the roof, after the morning I’d had. Instead, I cut my gaze to the floor, relaxed my face and looked back up. Holding out my hand to Carmen, I smiled and said, “you must be Ms. Carmen Suarez.” My outfit felt dowdy, my makeup underdone, but I’d be damned if I didn’t outshine her in personality.
Carmen stopped short and tore her eyes away from James long enough to give me a once over. Deciding that I wasn’t much of a threat, she smiled. “Obviously,” she stated, ignoring my hand and turning back to James.
I felt my jaw drop as my anger began to return, but I forced it down and tried again. Straightening, I dropped my hand, squared my shoulders and stepped between her and James. James made a rude noise as
I blocked his view of Carmen’s chest, but I ignored him. Carmen looked incredibly annoyed by my presence. I couldn’t blame her. I was miffed that I’d been dragged along in the first place and now to be treated like I didn’t matter — it was a little much. “I’m Marian,” I said boldly. “Marian Moyer. With Food Porn. I’m so happy you’ve agreed to be our feature for the next issue.”
Something inside Carmen’s brain must have clicked and she became all smiles. “Marian,” she purred, dragging out the “a” in that fake I-want-to-be-your-bff-but-not-really sort of way. “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m a big fan of the magazine. Great that you’ve been asked to represent them today.”
I smiled back in a way that suggested where she could shove her attitude. “Well, you obviously know James. And have you ever met Mika?” I asked, nodding towards my boyfriend.
Carmen turned back to James and smiled at him. “Yes, I met them both years ago.” She pushed around me and rested a hand on his chest and let it slowly sink down to the belt on his jeans where she deftly looped her fingers.
The words “before you” were left unsaid. If there was one thing I disliked more than fussy movie stars, it was catty, ungrateful movie stars. I’d never pulled out of an agreement to feature someone in the magazine, but I very well saw Ms. Carmen Suarez being the first. “Well, it’s just that Mika was the silent partner. I wasn’t sure-”
“It was nice to meet you,” she cut me off. Her face said the exact opposite of her words. “But these handsome men and I have business to discuss.”
I sucked in a breath and was about to give her a piece of my mind, when Mika stepped to my side and placed a warning hand on my shoulder, pulling me slightly backward. “Marian actually came with us,” he told Carmen, smoothly. “I wanted you two to have an opportunity to warm up to each other before the shoot.”
Carmen looked from Mika to me and back to Mika. Narrowing her eyes at me, she began a slow stalk towards us. I felt like an antelope in the open African savannah. Carmen was the lion. I tensed, waiting for whatever cutting words she’d say next. “Who is she, exactly?” Carmen asked, in a way that suggested she wasn’t interested, nor concerned. Curious only because perhaps I was more of a threat than she’d originally suspected, despite my very mortal appearance among gods.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Mika answered, pulling me close. I felt my insides glowing with pride as Carmen took in his words, trying to decide if she’d heard him correctly. My cheeks ached with happiness, my smile bright. Take that, Carmen.
“She’s also a crime scene photographer. Works closely with the Milwaukee PD,” James said finding his voice and stepping around Carmen to join our choppy circle. “She might be able to help us with the case.”
I felt myself rolling my eyes. I didn’t want to spend any more time with this woman than I had to.
Carmen giggled. “A crime scene photographer? What happened, you weren’t smart enough to become a detective like these two fine gentlemen?”
I gasped. Who did this chick think she was? She may be beautiful and talented on the outside, but her insides could use a serious makeover. “Look-” I said, clenching my fists, but James stopped me.
“Actually, Marian is quite talented,” he told Carmen. She seemed surprised that he was defending me. That made two of us. I felt my jaw drop for the second time in five minutes. “She mostly photographs bloodstains. She’s not an analyst but has enough experience that she can pretty much decipher the difference between patterns. Real interesting stuff.” He turned to me with a smile and I tried not to puff with pride once again. I normally hated being the center of attention but was more than happy to suck the wind out of Carmen’s sails at any opportunity.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult,” Carmen said slowly, cutting her narrowed gaze to me.
“Well, it is,” Mika told her. “Plus, she owns Food Porn and is the reason you’re here to begin with. Though James and I are happy for the opportunity to reconnect and possibly help solve your case.”
“She owns it?” Carmen asked, her eyes growing wide as she took me in once again. My slightly frizzy, auburn curls. My pale complexion. My very girl next door features. My loose-fitting jeans and flat sneakers. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t look like I’d be very well accomplished. In fact, I considered myself lucky when people thought I’d already graduated college. I looked much younger than 29. “She never said that.”
“You never asked,” I bit back.
“Okay, timeout,” James demanded, just before the fur began to fly. Carmen might be taller than me, but I was pretty sure I could take her. At the very least, I’d manage to break her nose. She’d be out of work for six weeks easy, with nothing more than a proper punching.
“I’m sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding very sorry at all. “I’m just very worried about my friend. It’s making me act all crazy.” She once again hooked her fingers into the loop of James’s belt and gave him a dirty grin. James, to his credit, blushed and looked rather uncomfortable. Still, it was incredibly obvious that the two had, had a tryst once upon a time. I couldn’t blame the woman for wanting more. I’d struggled with the same problem myself for months. James had taken more than just my heart all those years ago. He’d also taken my virginity in the back of his car. Not exactly romantic, but definitely memorable. He’d been my muse. My inspiration for Food Porn. The force that drove me to grow up and get my life together. Even though I was more than happy with having chosen Mika, it still hurt to know that James had already moved on — or perhaps back, as it were. What was his story with Carmen? Perhaps he hadn’t liked me as much as I’d thought.
James gently pulled Carmen’s hand from his belt and folded her arm so that they were linking elbows. Walking her out of the entry parlor and into the living room of the suite, he said, “Why don’t you bring us up to speed on the disappearance of your friend.”
As they walked away, I sighed and looked at Mika. He gave me a half smile. I could tell he was already exhausted by Carmen’s antics. Neither he nor James hurt for money. The two were multimillionaires. He was likely involved in this case because of James. James was likely involved because he wanted to get laid. And I, unfortunately, was somewhere in the middle of all of that. Even more unfortunate was that, had I not wanted to bring Carmen in for a photo shoot, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
Mika shoved his hands deep into his pockets and began to trail after James and Carmen. “Let’s get this over with,” he called over his shoulder. Blowing a curl out of my eyes, I dragged myself along after him. This was going to be a very long 24 hours.
Long didn’t even begin to cover it. Carmen was an expert manipulator. In the span of an hour, she’d gone from Super Witch to America’s Sweetheart to scared to a crying puddle and finally ending back in Super Witch mode. Her dear friend (or so she said) Veronica had been with Carmen on the Suarez family yacht near the Bahamas several months ago. When the trip was over and the yacht was docked back in the States, Veronica bid Carmen a fond farewell and was never heard from again.
Carmen herself had been a suspect in the investigation, if I recalled correctly. I wasn’t very on top of my Hollywood gossip, but Carmen Suarez drama was that which few could ignore.
It had been quite a sensational story when it had happened around the winter holiday season. Addison herself had flown to Los Angeles, where Carmen lived, to stay abreast of the latest happenings for our own local paper. The investigation had only made Carmen’s star brighter and the movie that she’d starred in, which was released just after the New Year, held the number one spot for five weeks in a row. The media had died down by mid-February.
The case itself fell out of the media and remained unresolved. It was like Veronica had never even existed — her credit card trails were cold, her passport unused for weeks now. Frankly, Carmen didn’t seem overly concerned with the disappearance of her friend as much as how much media attention a second investigation would garner. I felt bad for Ve
ronica. But then, I guess we all pick our friends for different reasons. Carmen and Veronica had met at a club. They’d been interested in the same man. Drunkenness had led to cattiness had led to a knock-down-drag-out brawl that had gotten them both kicked out of a high profile club in downtown Los Angeles. Twisted logic would, of course, suggest that they’d become best friends.
“My money is on them both wanting the cabana boy on the yacht,” I whispered to Mika after Carmen had excused herself to powder her nose. “Only this time, a fist fight wasn’t enough for Carmen.”
Mika smiled. “You could be right about that. But then, why would she hire us?”
“To throw you off the scent,” I said, shrugging and leaning back into the overstuffed white leather couch. “She has more money than God. Anyone who knows anything different than the events Carmen shared with police — the boat captain, her security detail — have all been paid off and paid off well.” I debated kicking my dirty sneakers up on the glass coffee table just to piss Carmen off, but decided that I was better than that. “It’s obvious that all Carmen cares about is the publicity,” I told Mika and James quietly. “You can tell by her body language that she’s not at all worried about Veronica — she knows exactly what happened to her. Carmen only cares about her own name. She has another film coming out this summer right? May as well start that media buzz now.”
“You sound jealous,” James observed.
I snorted in disbelief. “I’m not jealous,” I practically spit out. “I’m just sharing my theory.”
James looked like he wanted to disagree with me but, just then, Carmen clicked her way back into the room, holding a photograph. “This is us the week that Veronica disappeared,” Carmen said sadly. If she weren’t an actress, I may have believed the sentiment. Carmen handed the photo to James and he leaned forward, grasping it, mesmerized. When he finally tore his eyes away from the photo and handed it to me, I gasped. The photograph was breathtaking. A bright blue sky, a clear green sea. A beautiful white yacht. Two gorgeous women scantily clad in teeny tiny bikinis. Two gorgeous women who looked nearly identical. In fact, the only real differences were that Veronica’s hair was about two inches shorter than Carmen’s and Veronica’s beauty mark was smaller and under her right eye rather than her left.
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 2
