Straight from the Hart

by Tracie Banister

  Jaz doesn’t even bother to proofread the scathing text before pressing SEND. Glancing up at all of us, she says, “Shoot! I forgot the most important part.”

  Instead of engaging the microphone this time, she types the message and narrates, “In case I didn’t make myself perfectly clear in the previous text, you are FIRED! All caps, exclamation point, send, and block.”

  Lifting her head, she declares, “That felt really good.”

  “I am digging this new warrior woman vibe of yours,” Jax murmurs approvingly, slipping an arm around Jaz’s waist and pulling her close.

  I notice she doesn’t shy away from his touch this time. Fingers crossed that this bodes well for them reconciling.

  “You should have your lawyer confirm Delucca’s termination with the proper wording in a legal document as soon as you can,” I advise.

  “Good thinking!” Jaz says. “Let me make a note of that.” Opening an app on her phone, she tells the device, “Call lawyer in AM and have him officially fire the turd. Have all locks and security codes on the house changed. Let studio know Nick is banned from the lot. And give Aimee a big raise.”

  It’s a relief to hear Jaz isn’t mad at Aimee for helping us get to the bottom of what was going on with Delucca. Although it would seem as though Jaz’s assistant was being disloyal by feeding us info, Aimee only did it because she wanted to see her boss happy again.

  “I need to contact all of Nick’s other clients and let them know exactly what he’s capable of so that he doesn’t screw them over like he did me. I’m not sure if I know the names of everyone on his client list, though. There’s Plum and . . .” Disentangling herself from Jax, Jaz walks the length of the island, chewing on the cuticle of her thumb. “. . . Sydney Fowler and . . . Constance Griffin and . . .” Pivoting, she asks her husband, “What’s the name of the actor on that show you like with all those cowboys?”

  “Which one? There are like ten different guys on Bone Orchard.”

  “You know,” she says impatiently. “The hot, blond one, he’s a sharpshooter who’s secretly sleeping with his best friend’s wife, the sheriff’s daughter, and his recently widowed stepmother.”

  “He’s juggling three women at the same time?” I frown disapprovingly at this character’s bed-hopping antics.

  “Yep, which would normally be very unappealing, but the actor’s super charming and looks so good with his shirt off it’s easy to hand-wave his character’s shortcomings.”

  “Are you talking about Calder Pike?” Alex wonders.

  Jaz snaps her fingers. “Calder! That’s it. Nick just signed him a few months ago and thinks he’s destined for great things, so it’ll really be a knee to the balls if I can sour Calder on him.”

  “It’ll take a lot of time and energy for you to contact all those people,” Alex says, “and you’ll have to tell the same unpleasant story over and over again, which will be emotionally draining. If you’d like to spare yourself all of that, I know of a way you can take down Delucca, Georgina, and Quinn all at once.”

  “How?” Jaz, Jax, and I ask the same question.

  “I can leak the video and recording to TMZ along with all the juicy details of the story, which they can report as being from a ‘reliable source.’ We’ll hoist Delucca and Company with their own petard.”

  The Js stare at Alex blankly for a few seconds until he explains, “That means we’ll harm them with the same weapon they used to harm the two of you—the press.”

  “Ah, okay . . .” Jaz nods in understanding. “. . . poetic justice. You should have just said that. No need to use obscure terms.”

  “It’s not obscure,” Alex grumbles. “It’s Shakespeare.”

  Jax scrunches up his face. “That dude’s the worst! Last year, our agents wanted Jaz and me to do a new film version of As You Like It—”

  “—which I thought would be a good stretch for me creatively because I’d get to dress up like a boy for part of the story.”

  “But I couldn’t make any sense of the script,” Jax complains. “It was ‘prithee’ this and ‘forsooth’ that. Made my head hurt.”

  “Mine too, and there weren’t any love scenes in the movie, which was dumb. Why cast a couple with our kind of chemistry if you’re not going to have them end up in bed?”

  “Did they even have beds in medieval times?” Jax wonders.

  “Shakespeare’s stories were written and set in the Elizabethan Era, not the Middle Ages,” Alex corrects his client, “and of course they had beds with mattresses made of straw or feathers depending on how wealthy you were.”

  “Look who got an A in History!” Jax teases with an elbow to Alex’s ribs.

  “It was his minor at Stanford,” slips out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  My ex smirks, obviously amused that I retained this tidbit about his education.

  “Anyway,” I say, not wanting to linger on the subject of our past. “What do you guys . . .” I waggle a finger between Jax and Jaz. “. . . think of the TMZ idea?”

  “I’m all for it,” Jax quickly replies. “Those schemers need to be publically exposed.”

  “Mmmmmm . . .” Jaz is gnawing her cuticle again. “It does seem like the most expedient way to spread the word about their wrongdoing. Can you cherry-pick the relevant bits of Vanessa’s conversation with Quinn and pass those on to the tabloid instead of giving them the recording?” she asks Alex. “I don’t want to bring Vanessa’s backstory with Quinn into this as that might hurt her business and it would just cause more embarrassment for Bree, which wouldn’t be right.”

  “Absolutely,” he assures her. “Leave it to me. I’ll go back to the office and send the story to TMZ’s tip line from one of our untraceable e-mail accounts. It’ll be the headline on their website by the time you get up tomorrow.”

  “You want me to go with you?” Jax queries.

  Alex shakes his head. “Stay here with Jaz. The two of you need to talk things out.”

  “I’d like that. If it’s okay with Jaz . . .” Jax sends a puppy dog look in her direction, and I have to stifle the urge to say, “Awwww,” because it’s sweet that he’s deferring to her.

  “Talking would be good,” Jaz agrees, and Jax grins like he just found out he’s been named People’s Sexiest Man Alive.

  “Just talking,” she clarifies, but that doesn’t dim the light of happiness radiating from Jax.

  “Great!” I exclaim, clapping my hands together. “Come on, Alex. Let’s give them some privacy.”

  “Hold on, Red.” Jax jogs over. Fixing his soulful eyes on me, he says earnestly, “I’ve got this second chance with Jaz because of you and I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

  “Just doing my job,” I say, but my suddenly warm cheeks give away how pleased I am by his words.

  “And you do it very well. So thank you for fighting so hard for Jaz and me. You really are a champion of love.” He leans forward as if to embrace me, but freezes with his arms in the air. “Crap!” He drops them to his sides. “I forgot that I’m not supposed to be touching other women. Or is that okay as long as I’m not in a place where I can be photographed? Jaz,” he yells over his shoulder, “do you care if I hug Vanessa? I swear, she’s like a sister to me. Plus, she’s got something going on with Alex.”

  “What?” I yelp in surprise. “No, I don’t!” Stepping to the side so that I can see around Jax, I explain to Jaz, “Alex and I dated years ago, but now we’re just colleagues and we’ll probably never see or speak to each other again since this job is over. Also I have a boyfriend, a wonderful, handsome, intelligent, successful boyfriend.”

  “So you keep telling everyone,” Alex says in a dry tone.

  “Shut up, you.” I scowl at him.

  “Group hug!” Jaz declares before striding toward us. “Come on, Alex.” She waves him over, and he joins in the lovefest where we all wrap our arms around each other and squeeze.

  I find myself a little teary-eyed when we break apart and I’m not sure i
f it’s because I’m happy that everything’s worked out so well, or I’m sad because my collaboration with Jax and Alex is over. I hate to admit it, but I’ve had fun with these guys. For the last few weeks, it’s felt like us against the world. Also this job pushed me outside my comfort zone, and I did wacky things straight out of a Veronica Mars episode (donning a disguise, surveilling suspects, tricking my archnemesis into giving me a confession, working with my ex) that were strangely exhilarating. All good things must come to an end, though, and I suppose it will be nice to get back to the business of running Straight from the Hart.

  “I wish you both all the best,” I tell the celebrity couple with a smile that’s bittersweet. Before turning to leave, I call out, “Bye, Jet!” to the black beast who got bored with us sometime during the phone call with Bree. He retreated to a plush dog bed in the corner of the kitchen where he’s been noshing on what I can only surmise is a moose antler because it’s so huge. He lifts his jowly head to give us a woof then returns to his snack.

  Alex and I head back to the front door in silence. I figure he’s composing his e-mail to TMZ in his head while I’m thinking about a loose end I need to tie up before that story goes live in the morning.

  “Instead of dropping me off at my office, can you take me to Thorne’s Brewing Company?” I ask when we’re outside and walking to Alex’s car.

  His brow creases in confusion. “I thought you’d want to come back to Pinnacle with me and work on the TMZ e-mail together.”

  “Are you saying you’d like my input?” I pose the question as he hits the unlock button on his key fob.

  “I’m not saying I wouldn’t,” he replies, reaching for the door handle on the passenger side of his Jag.

  “Then why don’t you come to Thorne’s with me and you can work on a first draft of the leak while I have a word with a certain clueless craft brewer?” I inquire as I move to get into the now open car.

  “You don’t owe him anything,” Alex reminds me.

  With a sigh, I turn to face him and say, “I know, but Ezekiel was my client at one time and I feel responsible for putting Quinn in his path. He needs to know exactly who she is and what she’s done, and that’s only going to happen if I play that entire recording for him. What he does with that information is up to him. I just don’t want it weighing on me.”

  Alex gives me a half-smile as he rests his arm atop the door of the car. “You know what you are, Nessa?”

  “Stubborn? Bossy? Unforgiving?” All adjectives I can recall him applying to me at one time or another.

  He chuckles softly. “Yes, but more importantly, you’re what my grandmother would call ‘a good egg.’ You genuinely care about other people and doing your best by them, which is a rare thing in this town.”

  I couldn’t have asked for a nicer compliment, and knowing that this is how Alex sees me makes my heart swell with emotion. Not one I’m willing to put a name to at the moment, but suffice it to say, I’m delighted all the way around with how things have gone tonight. Let’s hope I can keep this winning streak going.

  “Thanks. Fingers crossed that I can finally make Ezekiel see the light as far as his girlfriend is concerned.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Ezekiel saw the light all right, and it was a megawatt Klieg that clearly illuminated every single one of his girlfriend’s character flaws. He was so shocked and appalled by the recording that it took him several minutes to formulate a sentence after hearing it. When he finally said, “I thought she loved me,” in a dejected voice, I almost felt sorry for the guy. He’d been living in a fool’s paradise for months, thinking Quinn was worth the price he paid to be with her, but now he knew she was nothing but a hustler who’d been duping him since day one and didn’t care about him at all. Before I could offer any comforting words, Ezekiel grabbed his jacket, declared, “I’m done with her,” and tore out of his office.

  I found out the next morning via text that Ezekiel had rousted Quinn from bed and gotten into a screaming match with her that lasted several hours. The argument culminated out on the street in front of his house where Ezekiel was tossing an armful of Quinn’s stuff in the trunk of her car. He told her he never wanted to see her again and to get the bleep off his property, which did not go over well. Drama queen that she is, Quinn went ballistic, launching herself at him, kicking, scratching, and shrieking expletives so loudly that three different neighbors called the cops to report a disturbance. It took two police officers to pull Quinn off of Ezekiel and both lawmen sustained injuries in the process. She had to spend the rest of the night in county lockup and was released on bail the following day. Ezekiel had no idea who ponied up the twenty-five grand to free her, but it definitely wasn’t Delucca who had bigger problems to deal with since TMZ’s scoop about the Jax/Jaz scandal had gone viral that morning.

  That story had its desired effect, immediately ruining the careers and reputations of Quinn, Delucca, and Georgina. The latter, however, proved to be very clever and adaptable by pivoting and embracing her new bad girl image. Earlier today, she announced she’s putting acting on the back-burner because she’s made a deal with Frederick’s of Hollywood to design and model a line of lingerie called “Trollop.” Georgina’s also in talks to have a kiss-and-tell published. Actually, it’s more like a bang-and-blab since she claims to have slept with over fifty famous men. Jax was just the latest, and not even the greatest according to her, in a long line of conquests. With such salacious content, I’m predicting the book will skyrocket right to the top of the New York Times’ Best Seller list.

  After Delucca lost all of his clients, he had to close the doors of D&R Talent Management and slink out of town in disgrace. He’ll be lucky if he can find a children’s party magician in Podunk who wants to hire him. Quinn’s company is similarly dead in the water. The website for Quinntessential Romance has been removed and the phone disconnected. I can’t imagine a resourceful woman like her being down for the count for long, though. I’m sure she’s holed up somewhere with the sucker who bailed her out (probably another client she stole from his wife/girlfriend)—cooking up a scheme to put herself back on top. All I know is she’s out of the romance concierge business and no longer my problem.

  I’m so deep in thought that the buzz of the intercom startles me and I yelp in surprise. Yikes! I have to exhale a calming breath to slow down my wildly beating heart before pressing the proper button on my desk phone. “Yes?”

  “It’s three-thirty,” Alyssa notifies me. “You said you wanted to be on the road by this time.”

  “I did. Thanks for the reminder. I’ll be out in a second. Can you ask the team to meet me in the reception area?”

  “Will do.”

  I quickly gather my things, sticking my laptop in my blush-colored tote bag and my phone in the pocket of my strawberry print wrap dress. On the way out, I make two stops. First going to the ladies’ to empty my bladder and freshen up, then to the break room to grab a dragon fruit vitamin water, which is not my first choice, but the açai-blueberry-pomegranate is gone. When I reach the front desk, my employees are assembled as per my request.

  “Headed out, boss?” Cole inquires genially.

  “I am, but I thought we should go over the plan for Melinda Yang’s thirtieth one more time.”

  He arches an eyebrow. “Because reviewing every single item on the event itinerary in great detail at this morning’s staff meeting wasn’t enough?”

  “You did give us all hard copies of the schedule along with step-by-step instructions.” Natasha lifts her hand in which she’s holding the red binder filled with all of the information I thought they might need.

  “I especially liked the pie chart on page six where you sliced up the budget to show what percentage of the client’s budget was being spent on food, alcohol, music, wardrobe, flowers, and our fee, of course.” Cole smirks.

  “I’ll have you know Craig was very appreciative of my pie chart so that he could see exactly where his money was going.”

&
nbsp; As you may recall, Craig is Melinda’s boyfriend, the one who has a history of expressing his feelings for her in disastrously non-romantic ways. After hearing the poor woman’s plea for help at the LA Woman Magazine Awards, I felt duty-bound to step in and do what I could to save Melinda’s birthday, and quite possibly her relationship.

  So I reached out to Craig and told him that a mutual friend had mentioned he might benefit from some professional help in planning something special for his girlfriend’s big day. He jumped at the opportunity, confiding that he’d just bought a ring and wanted to propose to Melinda on her birthday, but he wasn’t sure the paintball park where he’d originally planned to take her would be the right place. I confirmed that his instincts were correct and arranged a face-to-face where I picked his brain about Melinda and their romance. Based on that intelligence and what Melinda had already shared with me about her hopes for the event, I came up with a surprise-filled night that will be to her taste while still being fun for her husband-to-be.

  “He is very cost-conscious. It’s a miracle you were able to talk him into investing money in a decent suit. Can you imagine if he were proposing to Melinda in a rented tux like he’d originally wanted to?” Cole does a full body shudder of revulsion.

  “You were the one who found him a John Varvatos suit for half-off, so thank you for that.”

  “I’d like to say, my pleasure, but it wasn’t.” Cole flicks an invisible piece of fluff off the sleeve of his purple houndstooth dress shirt. “Shopping with that style-deficient man was six hours of pure torture. The only reason he finally agreed to the Varvatos was because the fabric was ‘shiny.’ And I can’t even with him refusing to wear the proper shoes with the suit.”

  “He needs to be comfortable and feel like himself when he pops the question. And I’m sure Melinda will think it’s cute that he’s wearing his Chucks. She fell in love with a guy who works in the gaming industry, right? Those sneakers are part of his playful personality.”