Undercover Heat

by LaBue, Danielle

  “No, my lunch meeting with Bishop Kling was pushed back an hour.” He adjusted the collar of his jacket and slipped on his driving gloves. “You girls look like you were having a nice chat.”

  “Yes!” Lizzie said. “We were talking about Christmas plans.”

  “And our new addition of course.”

  Carrie gulped. “What do you mean?”

  “Your new nephew or niece.” Her father chuckled and pinched her cheek. “What did you think I meant?”

  Carrie looked at her sister then back at her father. “You know, I need to go to the barn and get another bag of rock salt. Have a good day at work, Daddy.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and headed down the porch steps.

  ***

  Ty peered out the windshield at the graying horizon and the swirling clouds, gathering over head. He managed to get to New York and beat the rush hour traffic out of town, but if the building storm creeping over the western hills moved in fast enough, he’d never get to Middle Valley by nightfall.

  “Can you keep your eye on the road,” Manny grumbled from the passenger seat. “We're going ninety. I would at least like to know you’re watching where you’re going.”

  “Give me my cell phone. I’m going to call her again.”

  “You’ve called her a million times. She’s not answering.”

  “So, I’ll call a million more. Give me the fucking phone.” Ty glanced at his friend beside him and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean to yell.”

  “Look, I’m on your side. I just want to see you get there in one piece.” Manny leaned forward, gazing heavenward out drizzled spattered glass. “Does the sun ever shine in this part of the country?”

  “It’s the Catskills. It snows here. What do you want?”

  “To not die in a ditch.” Manny shifted in his seat, the leather whined underneath him. “So what’s going to happen once you get there?”

  A great question. The whole flight, Ty watched cable news feeds about the “Undercover Scandal” as it was now dubbed. He didn’t bother with the radio stations on the car ride. Instead, he checked his watch every three minutes and rehearsed his scene as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I figure ‘I’m sorry’ is a good place to start.” Ty ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I filled you in on most of what happened between us. I told you about us and her being sick, but there was other stuff too.”

  “Okay,” Manny said slowly. “I don’t suppose you want to clue me in.”

  “Hell, no. It’s personal.”

  “I understand, but as your personal assistant I feel I should know about anything that might be used as ammunition against you.”

  Ty groaned. Manny did have a point.

  “You know I like Carrie. And I know I work for you, but when it comes down to it, it’s like you guys are a package deal right now. If I can help protect her, you know I will.”

  A lump formed in his throat. The image of his baby daughter wrapped in her tiny pink blanket drifted through his mind. “She was pregnant, Manny.”

  “Huh?”

  “Remember when I told you about taking her to the hospital after she fell down the stairs.”

  “Yeah, you said that she had an eating issue, and you felt like if you stuck around it would make it harder on her and her family.”

  “That was most of it.” His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “When she fell down the stairs she lost the baby and her parents freaked out. They didn’t know she was pregnant. We weren’t married, and we were trying to keep it from the show. Her father is a Deacon, and he was in the process of being awarded a big job with the Catholic Church-”

  “Wow, he must have flipped.”

  Ty inhaled deeply. It was safe to tell Manny the story Lizzie, Russ and even Carrie knew, but what had happened between him and her father was something he’d never divulge. Better off taking his chances with Layla on that one. “The particulars aren’t important. What is, is that I stay the hell away from her. I just need to make sure she knows the truth about these rumors, and I want her to hear it in person.”

  Manny chuckled. “Yeah, right. You just want to see her.”

  Ty turned back to the road and pressed his foot harder on the pedal. He did. He couldn’t help it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sally Hartman’s voice filtered into the kitchen from the great room’s big screen TV. Carrie tried to ignore it, instead focusing on the gigantic tossed salad she was about to serve to the sixteen guests waiting in the dining room.

  No matter how many times Carrie tried to steer her patrons to local news or even “Friends” reruns for dinner time TV, their choice was always the tabloid news shows. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but “Entertainment Now” had been advertising a sneak-preview into the “Undercover Heat,’ Olivia Show interview. She wondered if she could get away with changing the channel, or better yet turning the TV off all together.

  “Hiding out with the baked ziti, huh?” Lizzie teased, snagging the heel of garlic bread from the stove. “Don’t worry. Maybe Jessica Simpson has a new hairdo or something. I don’t think you’re headline news today.”

  Carrie closed the oven door and tossed the mitt on the counter. “Tomorrow is the big interview.”

  “And all they’re going to talk about is the show. Ty won’t let the subject wander.”

  Carrie took the piece of bread crust her sister offered and took a bite. “Admit it,” she said. “You like Ty now. Don’t you.”

  “I respect the fact that you do.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Lizzie took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Look, I do like Ty. I don’t think he’s the awful guy Dad thinks he is. But do I think he’s good for you? That’s a whole different thing.”

  Both their heads turned when they heard Sally Hartman’s voice mention “Undercover Heat.” An old publicity photo of her and Ty mid-kiss made heads turn and mouths shut in the dining room. Some even applauded.

  “Good Lord,” Carrie mumbled. “Could they have chosen another picture?”

  “Shh.” Lizzie waved her hand. “I want to hear!”

  Lizzie pushed the button on the remote, making Sally Hartman’s voice drown out the surrounding chatter. “Breaking news on the ever-eventful private life of Ty Hollister. The latest? Ty is caught with a hooker at a Los Angeles hot spot.”

  Lizzie grabbed her shoulder. “Did she just say hooker?”

  “Shhh!”

  “Ty is shown here passing money to a lanky brunette in the VIP lounge. Patrons confirmed it, and the whole town is buzzing.”

  Carrie blinked twice unable to believe what she saw. Ty in a darkened room, handing a half-naked woman money. When their mouths joined she covered her eyes with her hand. “That can’t be Ty,” she said out loud. “No way would he ever do that.”

  “Will this affect the rumored reconciliation with his once-lesbian wife, Layla? This picture was taken just a few days ago in the Beverly Hills bungalow they once shared.” Sally Hartman’s face was replaced by a snapshot of Ty and Layla in each other’s arms, kissing inside a sliding glass door.

  “Oh, my God.” Lizzie put her hand over her mouth.

  “And what about Carrie Ann Langley?’ Sally’s voice asked. “In a related story, ‘Entertainment Now’ has just learned that it was a bout of anorexia that drove her from the show, “Undercover Heat”, and the stress of dealing with her then-boyfriend’s Ty Hollister sex addiction. Ty was scheduled to appear on the ‘Olivia Godfrey Show’ this afternoon but abruptly cancelled when the news broke. No word on if he’s seeking treatment.”

  “Ty’s a sex addict?” Lizzie asked.

  “Of course not.” Although, given the “evidence” Sally presented, it was hard not to think he was. A slew of “eyewitnesses” were paraded across the screen. Some ‘expert’ bald guy discussed the habits of addicts and a world famous psychic, handicapping which woman
Ty might choose.

  Every eye in the room was on her, waiting for a reaction. If she was a weaker woman, she would cry like she wanted, or scream like she needed, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Instead, she drummed her fingers against her leg, and raised her chin in forced bravery.

  “Anyone want some salad?”

  Mercifully, Lizzie pulled her by the sleeve and up the back stairs to her bedroom. She stood in front of the bed with her arms folded, waiting for her sister’s assault.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Lizzie asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said simply. “I’d like to wait and hear Ty’s side of things.”

  “What other side is there? He's gone to hell, and he’s taking you with him...again.”

  “That’s not what’s happening. You don’t know Ty like I do.”

  “Don’t you at least care that the whole world knows about your health situation?”

  Carrie sat down on the bed and pulled a pillow into her lap. “Of course I care, but I can’t control that, can I? It’s unfortunate that this got out when it did. But, right now I’m more worried about Ty.”

  “Worried about, Ty!” Lizzie’s face turned strawberry red, as she rubbed her belly through her sweater. “The guy is running around Los Angeles, with his wife-”

  “Ex-wife.”

  “Caught with a hooker?” Lizzie threw her hands in the air. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “His ex-wife, Layla, has it in for him,” Carrie said. “She has to have something to do with this.”

  “What about the prostitute?”

  Over Lizzie’s shoulder, she saw her father in the door way. Carrie pressed her mouth shut and nodded for her sister to turn around.

  “So it looks like Ty has been busy on his trip out west.”

  “Daddy, those are rumors,” Carrie said.

  “Are you sure?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, those photos, Carrie. He was kissing them.”

  “Maybe it was an old picture. Maybe it was doctored. God, they do that all the time in the gossip magazines. Haven’t you ever heard of Photoshop?”

  “So, you’re going to defend him?” Lizzie asked.

  “Yes, until he gives me a reason not to.”

  Her father groaned and cast his gaze to the ceiling. She could tell by the way he rocked back and forth in his boots that an angry outburst, in the form of a sermon, was obviously not far way.

  “And how did they find out you were sick?” Lizzie asked. “And what else do they know for that matter?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Damn it, Carrie Ann, I warned you about that man!”

  Carrie winced at her father’s voice that echoed like thunder inside her. She stared at the floor, then back at her sister, before getting up, walking around to the opposite side of the bed. “I told you I’m not jumping to any conclusions before I talk to Ty myself.”

  “Why, so he can lie to you?” the Deacon spat. “Why would you give a man so much consideration when it’s obvious he doesn’t care a thing about you? His only concern is for himself. He is a greedy, heartless, letch and if you believe for a minute that you’re the only woman in his life, you’re blinder than I thought.”

  “Daddy, you can’t be so harsh on Carrie,” Lizzie said. “She can’t help how she feels.”

  “The man was videotaped with a prostitute hours after being with his wife, who, by the sounds of it, has been victimized by the man the same way you have.”

  “Believe me, Daddy, Layla is no victim. And neither am I for that matter.” Carrie hoped the volume in her voice hid the slight tremor. What was it about this man that could reduce her to a child? Someone incapable of making her own decisions and possessing decent judge of character. That may have been true in the past but not anymore, and if anyone was making her a victim, it was him. Her own father.

  Lizzie walked around the bed and put her hand on her shoulder. “Carrie, we’re just worried about you. Daddy and I just want to make sure you’re thinking clearly about this whole thing.”

  “And obviously she isn’t,” Langley roared. “That man is a womanizer. He’s got a tramp in every port. Hell, he had one in his hotel room the other night when I saw him!”

  Carrie lifted her gaze to meet his. “What do you mean? When were you in his hotel room?”

  The Deacon looked at Lizzie and then back at her. He cleared his throat and raised his chin, as if what he was about to say was gospel. “I went to see him the night we had dinner in the city. When I got there he had a woman in his bed.”

  Carrie glared at Lizzie beside her. Her sister had always been in her corner when it came to battling her father. She couldn’t imagine why that suddenly changed. “You told him Ty was at the Waldorf, didn’t you?”

  Lizzie stepped away and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Carrie but I was worried about you.”

  She felt trapped, like armies with guns blazing assaulted her from every side. Deacon Langley was many things. Controlling, rigid, but he was never dishonest. Even to serve his purpose, he wouldn’t make up something that wasn’t true. “Daddy, are you sure there was a woman there? How do you know it wasn’t a business associate?”

  “I know what I saw, and I can also tell a deceitful rat when I meet one. I just feel sorry for that wife of his.”

  Carrie wasn’t sure what hurt more. Her father’s unfavorable assessment of her, or the feeling that he was absolutely right. Maybe she had let her guard down too easily. Her stomach churned, as she lowered herself on the bed. All of a sudden it was five years earlier, and she was stuck defending the father of her child, and her belief that somehow, some way, he still cared about her.

  “So now I suppose you have to speak to these rumors during this ridiculous press tour of yours.” Her father stared down at her with his hands on his hips. “And what about our parish? Do you know what this will look like to them? My perfect daughter, who suffers from some sort of curse of self-mutilation and destruction. Never mind if they find out she conceived some bastard child. Do you realize that you have disgraced the family?”

  “Now wait just a God damned minute.”

  Carrie looked past her sister and into the halo of the hallway light. Ty stood in the doorway with his arms folded, and his forehead creased in anger.

  “Tyler?”

  His boots fell hard as he strode across the hardwood and pushed in front of her father. “Just because she’s your daughter doesn’t mean you can talk to her like that.”

  “You’re a fine one to lecture on right and wrong. Why don’t you save it for the reporters? They seem to have an interest in what you have to say more than I do.”

  Lizzie scurried around the bed and stepped between the two men, taking her father by the sleeve. “Daddy, how about we leave them alone a minute.”

  “I’m not leaving Carrie here with this manipulator.”

  “Daddy, please.” Carrie’s voice cracked. “I understand your concern, but I’d appreciate a few minutes with Ty.”

  Langley groaned and took a step toward the door with her sister. “We’ll be out in the hall if you need us.”

  Ty kept his distance with the bed between them, his eyes running over her in a quick study. “Are you okay? I heard your father screaming from outside.”

  “Great, I bet the guests loved that.”

  “Look, I can see that you’re angry and hurt and probably scared, but I got here as fast as I could. I even used my agent’s private plane.” He glanced behind him at the closed door, before making his way to her side of the bed. “I wanted to get to you before the news did. I tried calling your cell phone, and I got the voice mail here at the house. This must have been hard for you to see. I’m sorry.”

  He reached down to touch her cheek. “Don’t.”

  “Carrie, I-”

  “I said ‘don’t.’”

  His hand fell with a thud against him. She concentrated on the lace fringe of the comforter, weaving her fingers in the fabric.

/>   “Can you at least look at me?”

  She waited a beat for drama’s sake then flipped her hair over her shoulder. He looked as tired as he sounded. His eyes red, and pale skin was obvious despite the blush of his California tan. There was a good few day’s growth on his chin and cheeks, and his clothes were wrinkled from the long trip. “So where’s Layla?”

  “What?”

  “Your wife,” she said with a hint of venom. “You two seem pretty chummy these days. Congratulations on your reconciliation, by the way.”

  “Wait a minute. Don’t tell me you actually believe the rumors about Layla and me?”

  The picture of him and the tall blonde in a steamy embrace floated through her mind. “Why not?”

  “Carrie, that picture. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “I suppose you’re going say the same thing about the hooker.”

  He winced, as if he’d been slapped in the face, and weird satisfaction swept over her. If this was what it was like to stand up for herself, she liked it. And if he felt bad, maybe he deserved to.

  He rubbed his temples and paced. “Okay, I admit I screwed up. But I didn’t sleep with her. And I damn sure didn’t know she was a prostitute.”

  “If you thought I was implying that you needed to justify yourself to me, you’re wrong. We never said we had an exclusive relationship.”

  “Come on, Carrie. This goes way beyond a verbal agreement between two people, and you know that.”

  She jumped up from the bed, and finding nothing more adequate to do, she chucked a pillow at him. “God, what’s with you, Ty? You come up here three weeks ago, sweep me off my feet, make me believe that there was something between us that was actually worth salvaging. Then what? You suddenly have this epiphany that I can’t hack the pressure of being with you, so you take off. God, where have I played this scene before?”

  He cocked his head, as if he hadn’t heard her right. “Wait a minute. You actually think these stories are true. Layla, the hooker. And you think I am standing here lying about it now?”

  Her father’s accusation drifted through her head. The woman in the suite with him. Her father wouldn’t lie.