“Why, no, ma’am,” I said.
It was then that I noticed that the shop assistant was staring at us both, a bemused expression on her face. I could see her looking at my attire for a few seconds and then her expression changed. Her face grew still and I could tell that she was trying to imagine me without the glasses and cap. She was a local and probably dealt with a lot of stars in odd costumes coming in to buy their world-renowned cupcakes. Well, the stars with no personal assistants. Maybe I really did need to invest in one.
“You’re funny, you know that?” Piper grinned at me and then laughed, a long, slow, delicious laugh that made me want to laugh as well. Piper’s enthusiasm for life was contagious, and a part of me wondered how she would act if she knew who I was. “You’re not Chris Rock, but you’re funny.”
“Thanks,” I said and then because I couldn’t stop myself, “and you’re pretty funny yourself. Cute, too.”
“Well, I do my best.”
She started playing with her hair again and I wanted to reach over and pull on one of her corkscrew curls. She was more than cute. She was beautiful in that completely unaware way. And her body was dynamite. I could only imagine the sorts of fun that we could have if I took her back to my place. I could imagine, but of course, I wouldn’t do it. No matter how much I wanted to. And then she started nibbling on her lower lip and playing with her hair at the same time as she noticed the tub of banana pudding. I could see her debating in her head whether or not she should get some.
“Got a craving, huh?” I whispered into her ear as I took a step toward her. My whisper must have startled her because she jumped back into me as my breath tickled her ear. I can’t lie, I was hoping for that response.
“Oh, well, you know.” She looked nervous now and I could see her eyes darting to my lips. Lips that were now quite close to hers. “I love banana pudding, but I’m already getting cupcakes, and Alexa will be a little upset if I bring too many sweets back. She tries to avoid sugar, you see.”
“I see,” I said, not caring about Alexa or her dislike of sugar. “You should get what you want. Life is too short to not be happy. Shoot, if you want banana pudding and cupcakes and ice cream and whipped cream, you should get it. Especially the whipped cream.” I stared at her to see if she made the connection in my reference to whipped cream, but it seemed to go over her head. Poor girl was probably too innocent for a man like me.
“Yes, true.”
“I like to go after what I want,” I said, and I watched as she licked her lips. “Are you the same?”
“I, uh, I …” She tripped over her words, and I was about to go in for the kill, when I saw my buddy Jackson headed toward the door. If he walked in, I knew he would be recognized, and I knew he would out me. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want Piper’s expression changing to one of excitement that she was talking to a Hollywood star. I didn’t want our whole innocent interaction tainted. It had been fun, and it had been the first time I felt I’d been up to let my guard down in a while.
“I’ve got to run, hon, but have a good day,” I said quickly then made a beeline for the door to make sure that Jackson didn’t make it inside first. I could see the look of disappointment on her face, and I felt a hardening in my groin that told me that she wasn’t the only one upset that I’d had to leave. It had been for the best, though. There was no way she would have wanted to eat a shit-ton of cupcakes around me if she’d known who I really was.
For some reason, women didn’t tend to eat much around me at all.
I sat on the couch, cupcake-less, and thought about Piper, the hottie in the cupcake store. She’d been fun, but there was no point thinking about her or what could have been; the moment was gone. I was curious how she would have reacted if she’d known who I really was. Would she have gushed all over me, hoping to be my playmate for the evening?
I made my way through the gossip websites to see if I was mentioned, and then stopped when I saw my name on the top of one of the pages.
“Hollywood Heartthrob Oracle Lion dumps another model,” read the top headline on a national news website. I clicked on the article and saw a photo of Cassie Cash and me on the beach in Kauai, Hawaii, and skimmed the first paragraph. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the words that the reporter had used to describe my relationship with Cassie. “Hot and heavy since they met in London”? “Late nights spent skinny dipping”? Complete and utter fabrications. I didn’t even know Cassie that well. We’d both been hired by a top designer to do a photos hoot for a new summer wear line, and while we’d flirted on the beach and gone to dinner one night, that had been it. She was a hottie, but I hadn’t even tried to kiss her; she’d been too ditzy and plastic, even for me.
I shut down my laptop without bothering to read the rest of the article. It didn’t matter to me. In fact, it was great for my image to be in the news all the time. I didn’t care if it was for my movies or my women. I knew I’d have to call my mom, though; even after all these years, she still believed all the trash gossip these wannabe reporters wrote about me. And she still got upset. I sighed at the thought of having to explain to her once again that no, I hadn’t just dumped another model, and no, I wasn’t dating anyone special and no, I was not planning on getting married and having kids any time soon. I didn’t plan on it ever, but I knew she didn’t want to hear that.
“Yo, Oracle, Bruno says there are three chicks at the door. He wants to know if he should let them in?”
My best friend Jackson Camden walked into my study looking up from his cell phone with a quizzical look. I shook my head. Bruno was Jackson’s personal bodyguard and was always around. He was a cool guy, but he took his job way too seriously. Though I suppose that his job as the bodyguard of one of the most famous rock stars in the world was pretty important.
“Nah, they aren’t with me.” I shook my head. “Most probably some groupies or reporters.”
“Pity.” He grinned. “Would have been nice to get the party started right tonight.” He winked at me, and I groaned. “What? You know you want to have fun tonight as well.”
“It’s not like when we were in college, dude. We can’t just hook up with randoms.” I laughed as we walked through the doorway down the hall to my kitchen. “Paparazzi will be there, ready and waiting.”
“Pity.” Jackson chuckled to himself and pulled out two beers from my fridge. “Dude, you have nothing but beer in here.”
“Yeah, I know. Rosa needs to go shopping. She’s been on vacation with her family.” I shrugged as I caught the IPA he’d thrown me. “She’s back next week.”
Rosa was my housekeeper, and she basically kept my place clean and stocked. Without her, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d have dirty towels and no food, ever. Though I’m pretty sure my mom would love for me to fire Rosa so she could come on over and take care of everything. There was no way in hell that I was going to let that happen, though. I liked my independence way too much.
“You’re spoiled, you know that, right, Zach?” Jackson used my real name as he chugged on his beer. “I’m hungry.”
“Then order a pizza or something.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here to feed you. You can do it yourself.” We walked back down the hall into my den, and he sat on the black leather couch while I sat on the large red concrete chair shaped like the palm of a hand. My interior decorator had said would be a great statement piece in my house. She’d been correct; it stood out in the plain room, but not in a good way. I thought the chair was ugly and uncomfortable, but then again, it went with the house. I’d bought it about a year ago, but it had never really felt like a home.
“So, what are we doing tonight? We gotta have fun. I’m flying out tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” I adjusted myself on the hard surface and stared at his spiked black hair and all-black leather outfit. “I thought you were here for a month?”
“Nah, going back to New York tomorrow evening. Going to be on The Today Show on Monday.” He shrugged as if
it was no big deal, which, of course, it wasn’t. We’d both been on TV more times than we could count. To be honest, it was boring to be on TV now. Almost everything about being rich and famous was boring. “So where are we going? Brad was telling me about some cool new club in We-Ho that I thought we could check out. Meet a couple of ladies, have them begging to be with us.”
“Begging to be with us?” I scoffed and then laughed. It wasn’t like his words weren’t true. Every woman wanted to be with Jackson Camden and Oracle Lion, the so-called foxes of Hollywood. I was used to it by now. “Sounds cool. Haven’t hooked up in a while.”
“What’s it been? A week?” Jackson asked with a raised eyebrow and we both laughed. “So, how’s the new movie going? Started shooting yet?”
“No, they just changed directors.” I shook my head. “Who knows what’s going to happen next. I’m looking at some scripts myself, going to try my hand at directing or something like that.”
“Yeah?” He nodded and took another chug. “Finally. You’ve been saying that since college.”
“I know.”
I looked at the original 1941 poster of Citizen Kane hanging on my wall. At the top of the poster, it said, “Everybody’s Talking About It! It’s Terrific,” and next to the words was an image of Orson Welles. Citizen Kane had been the movie that had changed my life as a kid. I could still remember watching it with my mom. She had always loved the old movies and I loved sharing them with her. I’d been mesmerized by the screen, the black-and-white images and Orson Welles. He hadn’t been a particularly handsome man, but he captured your attention and never let it go.
Ever since I’d seen that movie, I’d wanted to make movies. Real, hardcore, deep, thought-provoking movies. Movies that made people talk about issues, movies that made people talk about me. I’d achieved one of the two, but the movies I made now were empty and tasteless. I wanted something different in my life. I looked around the large room at the obscene paintings and sculptures that made people talk. The bright red accent wall that offended my vision every time I sat in here. Everything about my life was fake and for show and in a way shallow.
“So, you’re going to direct Babymaker Four, then?” Jackson laughed so hard at his joke that he tipped forward. His eyes met mine with an expression of mirth and I just smiled at him in response. Jackson knew how much I hated the Babymaker movies, but they were what was responsible for my substantial bank account. America loved me as the babymaker, and while the movies had catapulted my career, he knew I wasn’t happy.
“Sorry, dude. I know it’s not funny.” He sighed and sat back, his eyes suddenly looking sad. “Who would have thought this would be where we’d end up, eh?”
All the life seemed to have been sucked out of him at that moment. We were only thirty-five, but both of us were disillusioned with life and our respective careers. When we’d enrolled as freshmen at the University of Central Florida and formed a student band, we’d never dreamed that we’d make it this big. Never in our wildest dreams had we thought that we’d be A-list stars with the world at our feet.
Only we didn’t really have the world at our feet.
“Funny.” I shook my head and sighed. “No, I’m not going to be making bloody Babymaker Four.”
“I thought I saw on Access Hollywood that you signed a thirty-million-dollar deal and you’re starring with Frenchie?” He tilted his head to the side. “Did they get it wrong?”
“No.” My voice was abrupt as I stood up. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Wanna hit up Chateau Marmont for dinner? My treat.”
“Your treat?” Jackson laughed. “As if. I’m your guest, I got it.”
“Are you really my guest if I never invited you?” I raised an eyebrow at him and we both laughed. Jackson walked over to me and swung an arm around my back.
“I’ve missed you, brother,” he said as he patted my shoulders. “It’s been too long.”
“Well, who told you to go and be an international rock star?”
“You could always join the band again. We could go on tour together.”
“Nah, those days are past me. You know I only did the music for fun.”
“I know, I know. Your heart is with the movies.”
“Yeah, something like that.” I nodded. “Okay, I’m off to shower and get changed. You know where your room is. Feel free to use any of the five other bathrooms on offer.”
“Cool. Also, just want to check that …” His voice trailed off as I held my hand up with a chuckle.
“Yes, Jackson. Feel free to bring back any chicks tonight, but just make sure they’re gone by the morning, please. I don’t need a repeat of what happened last time.”
“Got it, got it.” He grinned. “And hey, I didn’t know that one of the girls stayed. I honestly thought that all of them had gone. I counted five heads leaving after our quickie in the shower.”
“Yeah, you counted five heads, but you had six women over.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “I really don’t know how you do it.”
“I don’t remember you being so sanctimonious that night. Didn’t you have a threesome with those two waitresses?”
“Perhaps.” I laughed. “Just make sure they’re all gone in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted me like I was some sort of captain. “Here’s to making sure my harem is all gone in the morning.”
“Yeah, please make sure. I’m going to the beach shack tomorrow night after you leave, so don’t want any unwelcome guests staying over.”
“You ever going to let me see that place?” Jackson asked, and I just laughed without answering.
He knew the answer to that. The beach shack was my private domain. The only people that knew of its location was me and my attorney. No one had ever visited. Not even my mother. It was the only place I had where I could truly relax and switch off. It was my own personal sanctuary. Without it, I would have lost my mind.
I walked out of the room and headed toward my bedroom, barely even glancing at the African masks that adorned the hallway leading to my exclusive wing of the house. They always freaked me out if I looked at them too closely. I felt as if there were African spirits contained in their empty faces, waiting to come out and ask me why I had such a large collection of Yoruba and Maasai masks when I’d never so much as visited the African continent.
As I reached my bedroom, I pulled out my phone and saw two missed calls. One was from my mother and the other one, well, the other one was from someone I had no wish to speak to ever again.
I threw the phone onto my mattress and walked into the bathroom, pulling my clothes off as I walked. I turned on the shower and stood underneath the too-hot water, letting it scald my skin as if that would somehow help to cleanse me of all the things I hated about myself.
2
Piper
“On my way.”
“Hurry,” I typed back, slightly annoyed.
“Tonight we’re going to get laid.”
“Are you sure you didn’t already?”
“Nope, date was a bore.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you all over a cocktail.”
“Hurry, I’m falling asleep.”
“Nearly there.”
“Where are you??”
The last text had been sent over an hour ago, and I was debating whether or not to just leave the club. The night was starting out with as much promise as an almost empty fridge with a lone, moldy apple sitting in it. It was ten thirty and my best friend, Alexa, still hadn’t arrived.
I stifled a yawn as I looked around the hot new club, surrounded by pulsing young bodies that were high on life, alcohol, and drugs. The bass of the music felt too loud to my ears, but I knew that was because I was an old fart at the grand age of twenty-eight. My black dress felt too tight and too skimpy, and my heels were already hurting my feet. I was ready to go home, but I knew Alexa would kill me if I went back to the hotel room before the night had even started.
I looked at my phone again to s
ee if she’d responded to my last text message. When she’d told me she would meet me at the club because she was going to meet a guy from Tinder for a drink in Beverly Hills, I’d thought it was a good idea, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe she should have just met me back at the hotel room. I walked toward the bar, debating between getting myself shit-faced drunk and just enjoying the night or going home and watching Friends. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and let the music pulse past me. I could almost imagine that I fit in with all the hot young things dancing around, but I knew that was just an illusion.
My eyes popped open as I felt someone brushing past me and it took a while for me to adjust back to the strobe lights and laughing mannequins that surrounded me.
I reached my hand up to touch my hair to see if it still felt silky and smooth or if it had frizzed up in the sweaty heat of the club. I was pleased to feel soft tresses beneath my fingers and smiled to myself. At least one thing was going right tonight.
I wandered around the sides of the club, nodding my head to the beat of the music. The vibe in the club was contagious, and I wanted to go dancing in the crowds, but I didn’t really want to go by myself. It would be much more fun with Alexa. As I walked past two girls drinking lemon drop cocktails, I thought back to the strange man I’d met earlier in the cupcake store. The interaction had been so weird, but he’d stuck with me. I’d barely been able to tell what he’d looked like, but his personality had been witty, and surprisingly I’d found myself quite attracted to him.
Especially when he’d whispered in my ear. In fact, I’d been quite shocked at how turned on I’d been at the feel of his warm breath. I’d been disappointed when he just ran out of the store. Even though I hadn’t seen his face and he’d had the weirdest redneck mustache, he had sported a body that was fitter than fit and, well, I’d had a feeling that he’d quite fancied me as well. I sighed as I felt my body growing warm at my thoughts. I needed to find somebody real to hook up with. That guy was long gone.
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