“Mom, you know I’m not a writer.”
“You wrote those songs when you were in that band with Jackson and Radley. What was it called again?”
“Three Donkeys,” I said trying not to grimace. How often was Radley going to come up today?
“Oh yeah, The Three Horses. Well, you wrote those songs. You can write a book about your grandparents. It’s the least you can do, Zach.”
“Mom.” I sighed, “that doesn’t make me a writer.”
“Well, don’t you know plenty of writers?” she continued pushing it. “You’re telling me the number one actor in all of Hollywood doesn’t know any writers? And don’t forget where you came from, young man. If it wasn’t for Nana moving and working as a slave to support us, you wouldn’t be where you are today.”
“Mom, Nana didn’t work as a slave. You can’t make those comments.”
“Well, she worked as a housekeeper and nanny in the South, it’s almost the same thing.”
“Mom, you and Nana had your own wing in the house. The Cornelius family also sent you to private school, and Mr. Cornelius gave Nana two hundred thousand dollars when she retired. It’s not quite the same.”
“Well, you know what I’m saying. I’m not saying she was a slave slave, though she did also come over to this country on a boat.”
“Mom. It’s not the same thing. She took a boat to Ellis Island of her own free will.” I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath.
“You are such a snowflake, Zach. My friend Iris was telling me all about you liberal Hollywood actors and your agenda. Well, you know I never—”
“Mom, I’m not going to listen to this right now, okay. I don’t know who your friend Iris is, but if she’s the one feeding you this crap, you need to drop her because she’s not a good friend.”
“Well, now Zach, there’s no need to go getting into a mood. I’m just telling you what she told me. Everyone’s so sensitive these days. You can’t say anything.”
“Mom, you’re an attractive white woman with blond hair and blue eyes, you live in a million-dollar house, you have a Mercedes, you and Nana were never slaves, and it’s disrespectful to say you were.”
“I never said I was a slave, Zach. I just said—”
“Mom! Stop, please.” I couldn’t deal with her nonsense today. Not after the day I’d already had. I had bigger things to worry and think about.
“Are you going to make Nana’s movie? I think she’d love to know her dear grandson made a movie about her love story.”
“Let me think about it, okay? Look, Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you later. Maybe next week.”
“Fine. I’m here and ready to tell you the story when you make time.” She paused and then she said, “I saw the Orlando Sentinel today. Top story was about Radley. Looks like there might be some new information in the case.”
“Oh?” I asked, my heart going still. What information?
“Yes, my friend Iris, well, her grandson is a deputy sheriff, and he works for the OPD. Transferred up from West Palm Beach a couple of years after she downsized. He still comes to see her every month, as well. He’s a good boy.”
“That’s nice, Mom.”
“She has a granddaughter as well, Zoe is her name. A sweet thing she is, but they’re Jewish, and I know Iris has her heart set on a Jewish husband for Zoe, though I suppose she wouldn’t say no to a famous Hollywood star as a grandson-in-law, Jewish or not.”
“Mom, I told you a long time ago that we’re not discussing my love life.”
“Well, you don’t want to be single forever. I saw that you and that Cassie Cash broke up. What you need is a real woman, a nice young lady, Zach. Not one of those stick-thin models or actresses. You know how they stay so thin? It’s cocaine. Iris told me.”
“Well, Iris seems to know a lot, doesn’t she?” I didn’t want to confirm anything, but that was a piece of information that Iris had gotten correct. “And I do date plenty of real women who aren’t in the business, Mom.” An image of Piper flashed through my mind, but I dismissed it as easily as it had come. I wasn’t dating her, and she was as far from a real woman as you could find. She was a two-faced snake.
“Good, good, so I’ll hear from you about the movie? You don’t even have to come to Florida. I’ll fly to LA.” She started singing under her breath. “I have to go now, my love. I need to go to the mall and look for some clothes. See you soon. Stay good, Zachy. Love you.”
And with that, she was gone.
I put the phone down on my desk and stood up. I walked through the doorway and down the long corridor to the kitchen. The house was too big for one person, and it was so gray. The only part of the house I loved was the large pool outside the living room. I walked into the living room and opened the sliding door and made my way over to the pool. I slowly took off my shirt and pants and left them on the ground. I pulled off my briefs, threw them toward my pants and then dove into the deep end.
I loved swimming naked. I loved the water. I held my breath and swam the entire length of the pool, even though the pool was Olympic-sized. I could feel myself running low on oxygen in my lungs, but I wasn’t going to surface until I hit the wall. I couldn’t. I had to reach the end. My hand tapped the wall and I surfaced gasping for air, the water rushing down my face. I ran my hands through my hair and leaned back against the side of the pool. The blue of the water shimmered in the sunlight and I stared at it for a few seconds. The sky blue color of the water was the exact same shade as Radley’s eyes. Radley Markham. Radley Markham. Radley Markham. My first friend.
I’d actually met him before I met Jackson. His mother had been a distant cousin of the Kennedys, and my mother had made sure to become Mrs. Radley’s friend in the mommy group she’d joined as soon as she’d found out that fact. Mrs. Markham had been a nice lady, young, sweet, impressionable. Her much older husband had been the opposite, though. He’d been a nasty piece of work. A controlling man. Abusive. A cheat. Mrs. Markham had taken her own life when Radley was just ten. I felt like it had affected me more than Radley. And maybe even more than my mom.
I slapped the water in frustration as I thought of my mom. I loved her, I really did. I loved her because she was my mom and she was a good person underneath it all, but boy, she made it hard. On the surface, she was a busybody, a snob, and maybe to some a racist, but I knew that she held a hurt she’d never gotten over. She had fallen in love when she was sixteen with an African American boy by the name of Marcus Martin. She’d talked about him so much that I knew his name better than my own. He’d been a scholarship student in her class, and he had loved her as well. They’d even gone on a couple of dates. And then my nana had found out. And God bless my nana, but she had been a racist, and she had banned my mom from dating him. My mom, ever the stubborn woman that she was, said no and kept on dating him. And then something had happened. I didn’t know what exactly, but they’d broken up.
Two years after that she met and married my dad, good old Johnson Houston, a banker who had been twenty years older than her and a handsome stud. Two years later she still hadn’t gotten pregnant and was wondering what was going on. She was a bit wishy-washy about what happened next in the marriage, but all of a sudden, when she was thirty-nine years old, she’d gotten pregnant with me. And my dad had died when I was three, leaving her to raise me alone. I had very few memories of my dad aside from his kind laugh and him singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy” to me every night.
When Radley’s mother had died, I’d tried to talk to him and offer some support. I’d told him that it got better, that even though I missed my dad every day, I knew he was in a better place. Radley had just stared at me with blank, unfeeling eyes. It had been the strangest thing, and at the time, I was uncomfortable and worried about my friend. It took a few years before my feelings toward him started changing and the worry I felt had changed to something more akin to hatred. Radley Markham had been handed the world on a plate and he didn’t even appreciate it. And the only
one that knew was Jackson. Jackson Camden, the one person in the world I trusted my life with. The one person who had been genuine with me from the beginning. We’d been together on the way up, and we’d be together on the way down. I’d cross heaven and hell for him.
And it looked like I might be about to.
12
Piper
* * *
“I’ll have a green tea, please.” I smiled at the barista at the new Starbucks in Montclair Village and kept my eyes averted from the iced lemon loaf slices.
“What size?”
“Grande, please.” I debated getting a toasted bagel. “Actually, I’m sorry to do this, but can I get a Grande Mocha Frappuccino and a toasted plain bagel with butter?”
“Any cream cheese?” the barista asked me, and I shook my head.
“No, thanks. I’m trying to be healthy,” I said with a small laugh. “So hold the whipped cream as well, please.”
“No whipped cream?”
I bit down on my lower lip and sighed. The whipped cream with a squirt of chocolate syrup made the drink. “Go on, then. I can start my diet over tomorrow,” I said with a wide grin, but she didn’t grin back.
“Name?”
“Piper.” I handed her over a twenty-dollar bill. She handed me back my change without saying another word. I debated cracking a joke about her having a bad day but decided to keep my mouth shut.
I looked around and hurried over to an empty table that had just opened up next to the window. The view wasn’t the most picturesque, but I’d take looking at the stores across the street over looking at the baristas working.
I had a lot to get done today. I wanted to outline my book, and I knew that Alexa wanted to meet up with me later to discuss what our next steps should be with the Jackson and Zach investigation. It made me feel a bit like Harriet the Spy or Nancy Drew and all sorts of cool until I actually started thinking about what we were doing. These were rich and powerful men, and we were insignificant nobodies whose only experience with detective work was playing the Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective Agency board game.
I pulled out my laptop and my notebook, glancing toward the counter to make sure they hadn’t already made my drink and called out my name. I picked up my phone and scrolled to see if I had any text messages and tried to ignore the wash of disappointment that flooded through me when I saw that the only message I had was from my cousin. Nothing from Zach.
Which wasn’t surprising because he didn’t have my number. And he was an asshole, but still. I’d hoped that maybe he’d have an explanation for everything and that he would text or call me to apologize for dumping that money on the bed. He’d been so rude, and I found it hard to reconcile the man who had danced with me on the beach and kissed me so sweetly with the man that had thrown the money on the bed with the coldest expression I’d ever seen in my life.
“Piper, one Grande Mocha Frappuccino ready,” a man called out.
I jumped up and headed over to collect my drink, looking back at my table quickly to make sure that no thieves were going to steal my laptop as I got my drink. I always worried when I went to coffee shops and the beach. What were you meant to do with your stuff when you got up? I mean, there’s a system of trust, but really, who knows who will break that trust?
I grabbed my drink and headed back to my table. I grabbed my pen and started doodling on the pad. This was my first time writing paranormal romance, and I knew that I was going to make it steamy. I was going to model the vampire on Zach—well, my fantasy of Zach, not the real Zach. He was brooding and handsome and the things he had done in bed were definitely going to be featured in the sex scenes I wrote.
I found myself writing Zach’s name over and over on my pad, so I opened my laptop and decided to do some research instead. I typed “Oracle Lion” into the Google search bar and waited to see what popped up on the screen.
My phone beeped, and I grabbed it to see a text from Alexa.
“Got another copy of the paper. Where are you?”
“At Starbucks in the village. Don’t you have a meeting with your advisor now?”
“It was canceled. Coming now.”
“I can come to Berkeley if you want?”
“Nah, it’s cool. We can grab some groceries at Lucky’s afterward.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“See you in a few.”
I put my phone down and leaned back in my chair.
“Piper, one toasted plain bagel with butter.”
I jumped up to grab my bagel and walked slowly back to my chair. Something that Alexa had said had been bothering me all weekend, and I was having trouble identifying exactly what it was. I sipped on my drink as I thought back to our trip to Los Angeles. Alexa had organized the trip because she thought we’d needed a getaway from our mundane lives in Oakland. I had been quite happy to go along with her and the drive to LA had been fun.
I froze as I realized what was bothering me. Alexa had wanted us to go on a girls’ trip, but she’d immediately gone onto Tinder and gone out on a date. Not only that, she’d told me to meet her at the club by myself and then had arrived late. As soon as she’d arrived she’d gone off with Jackson. It just didn’t make sense to me. Why had Alexa arranged a girls’ trip just to search for a man?
I sighed as I realized I was going to have to talk to her about her behavior. It was not acceptable to me that she had put dating and hooking up with a rando before me. That’s not what friends did.
“Wow,” I mumbled under my breath as the first article popped up on the screen. Hollywood Star Oracle Lion Thought To Be Dating Princess Maria Villanova of Spain screamed the headline. I clicked on the article and saw a photo of Zach and a beautiful woman with long straight black hair, big blue eyes, and a wide smile. She looked like a young Elizabeth Taylor, and my heart sunk. No wonder Zach hadn’t asked for my number. Why would he when he had his choice of all the women in the world?
I quickly skimmed the article and then looked down to read the comments which were often my favorite part of the articles I read. Most of the comments were about the fact that he went from woman to woman, with one man giving him a virtual high five for being the playboy of the century. I rolled my eyes at that one, but then my heart started racing as I read the next comment from Spacecoast69, “How many women are you going to steal from better men? Or should I keep my mouth shut? I don’t want to go missing.”
I reread the comment about fifty times and my body went hot. “Holy shit,” I blurted out loudly. The older man sitting to the right of me gave me a disapproving look, and I offered him an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” I said and grabbed my phone to text Alexa.
“OH MY GOSH, you will not believe what I just found. Where are you?”
“What did you find? I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll show you when you get here, but I think we have a break in the case.”
“Omg, I need to see. Does that give me permission to speed?”
“No. Drive safely. See you soon.”
I put the phone back down on the table and tried to click on Spacecoast69’s name to see if I could find out any other information on him or her, but there was no clickable link on the name. I copied the name and pasted it in a Google search to see if it brought up any other posts or a way for me to identify who this person was. Ten results popped up on the screen and I was about to click on the first link when my phone rang. I grabbed it and answered it without looking at the screen, my mind still preoccupied on the comment I’d just read.
A deep husky voice sounded in my ear. “Piper Meadows, is that you?” I knew who it was immediately.
“Zach?”
“The only and only.”
I wanted to slap myself at the small leap of happiness that filled me. “What do you want?” I snapped. Who did he think he was calling me so casually after what he’d done?
“Wanted to know if you missed me yet?”
“Are you fucking joking?”
&nb
sp; The man next to me gave me a disgusted look and stood up, grabbing his newspaper and walking away. Talk about a drama queen.
“Language, Piper, language.”
“What do you want, John?”
“John?” There was confusion in his voice. “Who the hell is John?”
“Aren’t you John? If I’m a prostitute wouldn’t you be John?” My voice held an edge to it that I hadn’t heard before in my life. Frankly, I impressed myself with the attitude I was giving him. I was cool, calm, and collected, but let him know I was over him.
“Oh …” He chuckled. “That was a joke.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I want to see you again.”
I didn’t answer him because my heart had suddenly started racing and I wanted to scream out, When? My brain was on a different level though and was screaming, Hell no!
“Piper?”
“That’s my name.”
“Can I see you again?”
“Why? So you can fuck me and leave twenty grand?” I whispered into the phone this time. I didn’t need to get kicked out of Starbucks.
“Twenty grand, eh? Your rate went up.”
“You’re such an asshole, you know that, right?” I was about to hang up when he spoke again.
“You’re right, and I want to make it up to you. I have a proposition for you.”
“What proposition?”
“It’s nothing like that.” His voice was serious all of a sudden. “It’s related to your writing.” He stressed the last word in a weird way and I frowned. Had I mentioned my paranormal story to him in my sleep or something?
“What about it?”
“I want you to write a screenplay for me.”
“A screenplay?”
“Yes, for a movie.”
“A movie? What movie?”
“I’ll tell you more if you meet up with me. You know you want to.”
“I’m not meeting up with you, Oracle Lion,” I said in my coldest voice. Who the hell did he think he was?
“So I’m back to being Oracle now?”
Love in the Dark Page 123