Unknown (Unknown Identity #1)

by Lexy Timms

  Eventually the club closed, and the three tipsy girls made their way back to the apartment building, stopping at Gustavo’s, who was closing up, but at the sight of his favorite customers he let them in. “Everything’s half off, but you got to hurry,” Gustavo said. “Everyone’s headed home already.”

  “The usually,” Leslie said to him with a sweet smile.

  “You mean the usual?” he chuckled and shook his head. “What are you doing out this late? And dressed so pretty?” he asked as he tossed the two slices of basil and roasted red pepper into the oven and looked at her. It wasn’t uncommon for him to see Leslie this late at night, but it was unusual to see her out in something other than an oversized sweatshirt, her reading glasses, and yoga pants. The old Italian was the sweetest guy in the world, and he reminded Leslie of her father.

  “Decided to go out.” She shrugged, feeling more than a little drunk.

  “Looks like it was a good time,” Gustavo smiled as he tossed Amber’s pepperoni into the oven with Josie’s potato and bacon slices. “You ladies need anything? Bottle of water, maybe?”

  “Nah,” Leslie said, opening her clutch and flipping through the bills. “We’re almost home.”

  “Like I said, it’s all half off,” Gustavo said. Leslie had seen Gustavo’s wife and two boys running around the restaurant several times when she’d been here. He was always busy, but it was because he was affordable and made amazing pizza. Leslie knew he didn’t make a ton of money. Gazing down at the tip jar, she saw it was already empty. They must have divided it up already. “Separate or together, ladies?”

  “Together,” Leslie blurted out before the others could protest. She went to hand him a fifty and quickly switched it to a twenty. The girls were already heading toward the door as Leslie grabbed the rest of the cash out of her clutch and stuffed it into the tip jar for him. “Have fun with the family,” she said to him as he stared down at the cash in his jar, easily five hundred dollars that Leslie had just parted with, not even batting an eyelash.

  “Sweetie, no; I can’t take that. Come back here.” Gustavo came around the counter and dug into the jar. “I’m glad you’ve had a fun night out, but this is too much.”

  Leslie had tried to usher Josie and Amber out before they noticed. Caught red-handed, she turned around. “No, Gustavo, that’s for you and your family. I did that on purpose. Thank you for the awesome pizza.” She pushed opened the door with her butt and took a bite of the pizza in her hand. It was hot, but tasted amazing.

  “What was that?” Amber asked as they made the short walk home.

  “Nothing.” Leslie didn’t offer to add more and thankfully the two roommates didn’t press it.

  They were all fairly quiet as they ate their pizza, enjoying the sights and the sounds of their neighborhood before they walked into the apartment building.

  “It was fun tonight. Thanks for taking me.” Leslie tried to keep her voice neutral. She suddenly felt like crying and couldn’t understand why. Damn drink.

  “We’re doing it again. Soon,” Amber hiccupped, and started laughing as they headed up the stairs.

  Unlocking the door to her apartment, she let it hang open as she walked in. She flipped on the lights and felt embraced by the familiar sounds and smells of her hovel. It felt like she’d been gone for a hundred years, as if time had changed since she’d left. Or maybe she had. She dropped down onto the couch, staring at the TV. She didn’t feel tired at all. She felt drunk, and afraid that if she fell asleep she’d wake up with a nasty case of dry mouth and a hangover that was coming with a vengeance. She wondered for a moment whether she had the ingredients to make a Bloody Mary in the morning or a Mimosa. Of course, she’d have to make it for the ladies too.

  A few minutes later Josie and Amber came out of their apartment, barefoot and ready to relax after the long night. Tomorrow was Friday and they’d partied like it was Saturday. Leslie had no doubt that in the morning they were all going to be beat. She got up and changed into yoga pants and then dropped down on to the couch as Josie flipped through Netflix for something to watch.

  Leslie couldn’t help but feel like tonight was the night that she’d needed. It was like someone had chipped out a chunk from the dam that had blocked up her entire life, and for the first time in a very long time she felt like she was ready to do something new and exciting. Maybe start living again.

  “Can we talk about the stack of hundreds you stuffed in the tip jar?” Josie said after a while as they settled on some show that was extremely melodramatic, the kind of stuff that Leslie found herself easily engrossed by and eager to consume on a bender of bad television.

  Leslie looked at her and shrugged.

  “That’s was, like, half a month’s rent.” Amber leaned forward and watched her intently.

  Leslie smiled and shook her head, standing up and walking toward the bookshelf where the Tiffany Black series was stuffed in the corner of her living room. Evelyn Frock’s growing canon of literature was quickly enveloping that section of the shelf. Leslie grabbed the first Tiffany Black book and handed it to Josie, who took the book and looked at it, completely confused and baffled by what it could possibly mean. When she finally opened up the book and saw the inscription Grant had written on the first page about how this was the beginning of a great friendship and an extremely lucrative career, all the cylinders fired inside of Amber’s mind and it all came together. “Holy shit!” Her eyes lit up after a moment, stunned and baffled. “That guy at the bar. That was this Grant?”

  Leslie nodded. “He’s my agent.”

  “Holy shit!” Amber jumped up. “You’re freakin’ Evelyn Frock!”

  “Who’s Evelyn Frock?” Josie grabbed the book and read the inscription as well. “Who the hell is Grant?” She rubbed her eyes. “My mind’s foggy with booze, fun, and a brain freeze.”

  “Grant was at the bar tonight,” Amber explained.

  Leslie laughed. “That was kinda funny. I thought you were offering to have me buy a drink for the dick- head who had called me ‘Baby’ a moment before. I didn’t know Grant was there.”

  “Who the hell is Evelyn Frock?” Josie repeated.

  “Like the most popular author in America,” Amber gasped and turned back to Leslie. “You’re screwing around. You have to be pulling our legs.”

  Leslie shook her head. “Only a very small select group of people know. A very select few.”

  Josie jumped to her feet and let out an ecstatic scream, and started jumping up and down enthusiastically. She pulled Amber up and the two of them hopped and danced like crazy drunks.

  Leslie, on the other hand, stared at the TV screen where she was watching a particularly handsome man talking to his onscreen girlfriend about their particular dilemma. For some reason, Leslie felt drawn to him. There was something about him that made her feel excited inside, something alive stirring inside of her. It was something that had been asleep for a long time, now alive deep in her belly. She had no idea who it was on the screen, but he was extremely attractive. Freakin’ hot.

  Guilt made her turn her face away from the TV. She had no right to have those feelings. They had died a year ago, buried forever in California.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Josie grabbed Leslie’s shoulders and shook her. “I’m neighbors with Evelyn Frock?”

  “Yeah.” Leslie shrugged. “It’s no biggie. I just write stories.”

  “So, you’re a billionaire,” Amber said after a moment, finally putting the pieces all together.

  Leslie laughed and shook her head. “Just a millionaire,” she laughed.

  “Damn! That’s a ton of money.” Amber blinked several times, trying to grasp the situation through the liquor-infused fog she was trying to navigate.

  “Who’s he?” Leslie asked, pointing to the guy on the screen who was now fist-fighting with a werewolf or something convoluted like that.

  “Conrad Danes?” Josie’s eyes darted to the TV. “Wait, I have like a million things I want to a
sk. No one knows?”

  “Come on,” Leslie groaned. “Be cool about it, Josie. Don’t freak out. It’s part of the reason I don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to be different than who I am.”

  “Okay,” Josie nodded. “Where you Evelyn before… before… you know?”

  “Yeah.” Leslie leaned back into the couch, sinking into it as she hugged a pillow, wondering if she’d made a mistake telling the two of them. She guarded her privacy with the kind of fiery dedication that most people guarded their darkest secrets with. She didn’t want to be the focus of the media. She knew if they did find out who she was, it would be impossible to find a quiet little corner of the world to hide in. She eyed her friend for a moment. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Josie said, grinning like a child on Christmas morning.

  “I’m serious,” Leslie growled.

  “So am I,” Josie swore.

  “Me too,” Amber said. “Man, that guy is hot. Look! That wolf just ripped off Conrad’s shirt!”

  Josie snorted. “I’d drink a few from that six pack.

  Leslie burst out laughing. “Only you, Josie.”

  “Hey, what can I say? I appreciate fine art.”

  “One thing, about my job… don’t blackmail me. Ever.” Leslie warned them as her eyes swung back to the television. “Even my parents don’t know.”

  “We won’t say a thing,” Josie said vehemently. “I’m honored you even told us.”

  “I trust you guys.”

  “This is so cool,” Amber giggled, shaking her head as they watched Conrad Danes fight off another werewolf. “We got a secret, famous friend.”

  “Don’t forget rich,” Josie joked.

  “Don’t forget it’s a secret,” Leslie warned.

  Chapter 5

  “I have something I want to ask you guys,” Leslie said the following morning. She’d woken early and laid in bed while her friends slept on the couch in the living room. For the first time in a very long time, the apartment felt like home to her, albeit small and not much of anything. She’d made friends and trusted them enough to share her secret. She hadn’t done it because she was drunk. She knew why she done it.

  She’d been mourning the loss of Michael and sort of forgot to keep living herself. The one thing he had wanted her to do – go out and live, take on the world. Instead, she’d hidden herself away. It was time to start living again, or maybe try.

  But how?

  Maybe she needed to go on an adventure. Do something new, something beyond the seven-block radius of her apartment. “You can say no,” she said nervously as she handed them each a plate of bacon and eggs. “I won’t mind…”

  Amber stuffed a piece of bacon in her mouth while Josie held a piece of toast midair, ready to dip it into her sunny-side-up egg.

  After a moment of internal debating, Leslie figured it was better than the alternative and went for it. “You guys want to go on a vacation or something?”

  “Like upstate or something?” Amber asked, glancing at Josie.

  “I was thinking somewhere warm and sunny,” Leslie said, shrugging as she reached for a slice of toast. “But, I don’t know. I just kind of want to get out of the city.”

  “Like Miami?” Josie asked.

  “A little farther south…” Leslie pushed. “Maybe the Caribbean?”

  “Are you asking us if we want to go to the Caribbean?” Amber laughed. “Hell yes, Leslie! You’re not trying to buy our silence, are you? I mean, you don’t have to do that. We’re totally cool. There’s no way we would ever tell anyone.”

  “I know,” Leslie laughed, the nervous butterflies suddenly disappearing. “I just wanted to know if you’d be interested in going on vacation with me.”

  “Yeah,” Josie laughed and double-dipped her toast into her yoke. “When?”

  “What about tomorrow?” She was terrified she’d get cold feet. What if I change my mind? Crawl back into the hole I’ve been living in? “I mean, if you can get off work. We could go tomorrow or in a couple of days. My agent could get us visas and have everything ready.”

  “Work would kill me,” Amber said nervously. “But I think they’d be cool with it. How much are tickets?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Leslie waved her hand, brushing the thought off.

  “No, you’re not paying for it all,” Josie said in a determined tone. “We’re not going to mooch off of you.”

  Leslie looked at them nervously and chewed her lower lip anxiously.

  “You already bought tickets.” Amber saw through her.

  “My agent’s taken care of all of it.” Why had she thought it was such a good idea this morning? Grant hadn’t been impressed with the early morning phone call, but he hadn’t argued with her. He, too, obviously thought it was a good idea and probably figured she would change her mind if she had a chance to think it through.

  “This is going to be fantastic!” Josie grinned. “I’m so freakin’ in!”

  For the first time since Leslie had gotten her first royalty payment and bought Michael a truck, she’d spent her money on something frivolous. She pushed aside the feeling of guilt. This wasn’t just about her; she wanted to do something nice for her friends as well.

  Amber called into the club and told them that she needed to cash in her vacation time that she had been saving up for a while now, mostly because going to work for her was like going to a party that never ended. Work for her was a strange sort of fun that very few people got to enjoy. Her boss wasn’t happy, but eventually the platinum goddess made her magic work and she got the short term notice and was free to go. For Josie, all she had to do was call in and tell them that she needed to take some time off.

  They spent the rest of the day shopping and trying on bathing suits, and as far as Josie and Amber were concerned, they were singularly tasked with the job of finding Leslie clothing that wasn’t work-out attire or comfy clothes. Her hesitation over going slowly disappeared. After a day of shopping, eating out, and enjoying everything that New York had to offer, Leslie found herself in a completely different mindset.

  She needed this.

  It was time.

  When they finally made it back to the apartment and spent the rest of the evening watching the strange, melodramatic paranormal series that Conrad Danes was in, Leslie found herself completely enthralled by the character who was just another one of the pining boys in love with the central female lead.

  She often wondered what it was that was so special about the woman that the TV show was focused on that would be worth keeping a guy like that around. But as they watched the show, she was actually completely caught off guard when Josie and Amber said that they found other characters on the show more attractive. That was just insane to her, something that didn’t compute.

  “Did you hear he’s single now?” Josie said after a moment.

  “Oh,” Leslie said after a moment, shrugging like it didn’t matter to her. Why would it? He was a celebrity and she was no one. What was she supposed to do with that information?

  “You could totally date him, Leslie,” Josie pressed. “Go do some famous book signing thing, or have your agent to get in touch with him.” She giggled and pretended to pick up an imaginary phone. “Oh Grant, here’s my next bestseller and do you mind telling Conrad Dale to give me a call?” She pitched her voice high as she spoke.

  Amber started pretended to be Grant with her imaginary finger phone and spoke in a low voice, “You got it, babe! You’re one of those people who’s in the rare position to actually be able to date someone that they see on TV. Anything for you, babe. I can make that magic happen. Is there anyone else you think’s hot? I can get them all for you, babe.”

  “No way.” Leslie shook her head as she laughed. There was no way that she could ever be able to date someone like him. “Grant never calls me babe, by the way.”

  Amber scrolled through her real phone. “Just for the record, Conrad’s single. It was all over TMZ.” She h
eld her phone up to show Leslie. “His wife was cheating on him. Huge scandal. People were raging all across the planet. It was insane.”

  “When?” Leslie asked, feeling like she was coming out from under a rock that she had been hibernating under for ages. It felt like she was cheating on Michael by asking. However, she was never going to meet Conrad so it didn’t matter. It was like a book boyfriend. No strings attached.

  “Like two weeks ago.” Josie grabbed a bottle of wine and poured it into three glasses. “Totally nasty according to the papers. His wife, or ex now, was sleeping with the neighborhood. Not just one guy. Like tons.”

  “That’s just the papers talking.” Leslie accepted the offered glass of red wine. “See? That’s one of the reasons I don’t want anyone knowing who I am. Who knows what really happened?” She glanced at the TV just as Conrad managed to walk on screen just out of a shower with just a towel on. Damn, he’s hot! It dawned on her that it was a crush. It had been so long since she had been so drawn to someone that she felt the possessive power of a crush. Michael has been her one and only crush. She finished her glass of wine too fast and dropped back against the couch, pissed for letting some stupid TV character mess with her head.

  There was something potent about a crush for those who had never experienced it before, or had been cut off from it for a very long time. She couldn’t stop it. She tried saying it was just a silly physical crush. She was just stepping back into life and somehow had managed to latch onto the first hot image she saw, like an oil tanker getting ripped open at sea and coating her entire world with the slick embrace of the oily reality. She took a deep breath and stared out the window of her tiny apartment and looked at the world around her. Was this what a crush was like for everyone else? She took another deep breath. Let it go. It doesn’t mean anything. Use the guy to dream about as you fall asleep. No big deal. He’s not Michael.

  No, he wasn’t. Michael was never coming back.

  She was never going to meet Conrad.

  Taking a look at him on the screen, she imagined what his favorite color was, where his favorite restaurant was, and which Avenger was his favorite. There was so much she wanted to know about him that wasn’t even sexual. She was only thinking these things because she was mad at Michael for dying. She stared at Conrad and forced herself to wonder what his lips would taste like or what he’d look like, in person, without his shirt on. There were so many questions running through her mind, but mostly, she just wanted. She wanted him.