by Bryce Oakley
Zoey leaned to see who was calling out her name. Archer, the flight attendant from Pia's private plane, was waving emphatically.
"Archer," Zoey exclaimed with a wide smile. Finally, a friendly face. "Guys, this is Archer. Archer, this is everyone."
Archer's eyes lit up as he glanced around the circle. "I thought it was you and your little crew over here," he said with a pleased smile. "My friends and I have bottle service over there." He pointed behind him vaguely in the direction of another corner of the club. "If you want to join us."
"Are your friends men or women?" Meg asked bluntly.
Archer laughed. "Both," he said.
Meg shrugged, glancing around to the others.
Domino was staring daggers into Archer as though he was a threat. If she had hackles, they would be fully raised. "What did you say your name was?"
"Oh, I'm Archer. I met Zoey on Pia Marino's plane," he said, reaching his hand out to shake hers.
"Archer? You said your name was Archer?" Domino said.
Archer raised a brow. "Sure did. And you were?"
Zoey felt tension crackle between them. She stood, moving to physically put herself between them, since they looked as though they were about to throw punches. Or, realistically, Domino looked as though she was about to claw the flawless skin off of Archer's face.
"Get the fuck away from her," Domino growled.
"Dom, what's going on?" She asked, looking back and forth between them. She noticed that her friends had moved to stand closer, as though they were worried about what was going to happen.
"It's not worth it," Sabrina said quietly, taking Domino by the upper arm, but Zoey overheard.
"What's not worth it?" Zoey demanded.
Archer bristled, standing taller. He was nearly seven inches taller than Domino, but Zoey's money would always be on Domino. That woman was scrappy as hell.
"Archer is the one who leaked the details about you and Pia," Domino bit out.
"Excuse me?" Archer said, looking offended.
"What?" Zoey asked, looking between the two of them. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of the situation. "No. Archer is harmless."
"That's what my sources told me," Domino said. "It was a man named Archer."
"You have sources?" Meg said, sounding impressed.
"Is this true? You sold details about Pia and I?" Zoey asked.
"Explains the bottle service," Isla growled.
Archer held his palms up. "Of course not."
Zoey looked between Domino and Archer.
"Why would I lie about this?" Domino asked.
She had a point.
Archer looked more and more uncomfortable.
If it were true, it meant that Archer had been the demise of her entire relationship with Pia.
"Do you understand what you cost me?" Zoey asked, her voice dipping as rage flowed through her body.
"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Archer said finally, trying to seem unaffected.
Sabrina had already waved over a bouncer. "Can you kick this man out? He's threatening my friend."
The bouncer looked at Archer. "Are you threatening our guests?" He asked.
"What? Of course not," Archer said, shaking his head, his eyes wide. He pointed to Domino. "She's threatening me."
"I'm sorry, sir, but she outranks you here," the bouncer said. "You're going to have to come with me."
Archer snorted in amusement, turning on his heel. It wasn't long before a second bouncer appeared and they each grabbed one of his arms as they led him towards the door.
"Wow, did you really just pull celesbian rank at a nightclub?" Meg asked, turning to Domino.
Zoey watched Archer be escorted out of the club.
"What sources are we talking here?" Isla asked, sipping from her drink.
"I let Domino text a journalist at the tabloid that originally ran the story," Sabrina said, sounding proud of herself.
"Let?" Meg asked.
"Well, she's an old friend," Domino said, rubbing the short hair at the back of her neck.
Meg and Isla laughed, knowing exactly what that meant.
Zoey wanted to join in on the conversation, the familiar teasing of Domino, but she felt numb all over.
Which was a huge change from all of the grief and pain and rage that she had been feeling over the last two weeks.
"Are you sure?" Zoey said, turning back to Domino.
Domino pulled out her phone, opened a text, and handed it to Zoey. "Here," she said.
Meg leaned in to read over Zoey's shoulder.
Zoey scanned through the text message exchange, including one from the woman — Courtney — that claimed she could get in huge trouble for revealing a source.
Domino had reminded Courtney of a particularly... explicit... favor. Zoey's eyes flicked up to Sabrina after reading it.
"Yeah, I read it," Sabrina said, rolling her eyes. "Believe me, that's tame in comparison to what we—"
"Breen," Domino said, giving her a sharp look.
Zoey laughed, the feeling bubbling up inside of her for the first time since... well, for awhile.
"Keep reading," Domino said, rolling her eyes.
Courtney: We made the check out to a man named Archer. That's all I'll say.
Zoey's grip tightened on the phone.
"I can't believe this," Zoey said. "I thought he was so nice."
Meg put a hand on her shoulder. "You've always seen the best in people," she said.
"Yeah, remember when you tried to convince Vero's ex to try to win her back?" Domino said with a grin.
Zoey felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I didn't know that Vero and Billie were serious," she said, defending herself for the millionth time.
Zoey handed the phone back to Domino. "Why didn't you tell me when you got these?"
"Remember when I interfered with Billie and Vero's relationship? I just don't want to fuck anything up between you and Pia in case..." Domino started, her voice trailing off.
Zoey shook her head. "Not gonna happen."
An awkward silence fell over the group, as it always did whenever one of them mentioned Pia in a positive light.
"Should I tell her?" Zoey asked, chewing on her bottom lip.
All four women gave her a shrug in near-perfect synchronization.
"Do whatever you think is best," Domino said. "We trust you, and we'll support you no matter what."
It took Zoey until the following afternoon to work up the courage to call Pia.
Pia answered after only a few rings, sounding slightly alarmed. "Hello?"
"Hey, Pia. It's me. Zoey. It's Zoey," she said, pacing in the hallway between her bedroom and living room.
Cool your jets, Zoey.
"Yeah, I know, your name shows up when you call," Pia said.
Zoey wanted to slap her palm to her forehead. Why was she being such a spaz?
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steel herself against the emotions that were threatening to break through the brand new dam she had been working on to keep them contained.
"What's up?" Pia added. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Everything's fine. Kind of. I had a weird thing happen last night," Zoey began, then recounted the story.
"What the fuck," Pia said, and Zoey could picture her scrubbing a hand over her face, her exasperated expression.
"Yeah, so, I just... I wanted you to know," Zoey said, still pacing. She fidgeted with her hair, tightening the clip that held it up and off her neck.
"Well, thanks," Pia said. She almost sounded as if she was in shock.
"Okay, yeah," Zoey said, unsure what else to add, but she wanted more than anything to just stay on the line. To keep talking.
Pia cleared her throat. "Okay. Well, I'll handle it on this end. Thanks again for letting me know."
"Sure, sounds good," Zoey said. "Okay, I'll talk to you... later... sometime. Okay."
Why in the world could she not stop the words that were coming out of
her mouth?
"Alright. Thanks again, Zoey," Pia said.
"Yeah, no problem. You're welcome. It's... yeah, you're welcome," Zoey said, finally clamping a hand over her mouth.
"Okay. Bye, then," Pia said, her voice softening.
Zoey held the phone away from her ear and hit the red button, wanting to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.
Wow, played it so cool, McCarren.
But, it was done. Mystery solved.
She held the phone to her chest, trying to ignore the insistent throbbing of heartache between her ribs, disappointment that Pia hadn't apologized for blaming her, that she hadn't taken back all of the cruel words she had said.
Well, it was done. And so was she.
She was done.
Chapter Fourteen
Pia
"Get in, loser, we're going to get the good coffee," Kelly said, beeping the tiny horn on the golf cart.
Pia laughed, climbing onto the seat beside her. It was a sweltering day, and the breeze of riding in the golf cart raised her spirits and calmed her nerves.
It was Sheila day.
July 10th.
The anniversary of Elle’s death.
And Kelly knew just how to distract her.
Kelly drove the golf cart as though they were in a high speed chase, careening around corners, nearly running over Mark — Pia waved, yelling her apologies, promising to bring him back a cafe au lait.
She knew what Kelly was doing. She was distracting her from the fact that they were filming Sheila's episode in two hours.
Pia had spoken to Zoey the day before and solved the mystery of who leaked the information about them, but it made her realize she had been an idiot to think it was ever Zoey. She thought of Zoey's near-panic attack at the pho restaurant, of Zoey storming out of the music venue in Nashville, of Zoey insisting they be secretive about the entire... whatever it was. Thing. Relationship.
They pulled up to the best coffee place on the lot.
"You want the usual?" Kelly asked, climbing out of the golf cart.
"Extra shot," Pia added, following behind her.
"Extra shot? You sure? Right before the interview? You want to be bouncing off the walls?" Kelly asked.
"Whatever, Mom," Pia teased.
They ordered their drinks — plus one for poor Mark — and jumped back on the golf cart.
"I need to tell you something," Kelly said, staring straight ahead and gripping the wheel.
"Okay," Pia said slowly, bracing herself for terrible news.
"I was wrong about what I said to you about Zoey," Kelly began. "It was out of line for me to suggest... well, to suggest that any of her actions were anything..."
Pia watched the normally calm-and-cool Kelly stumble over her words, nearly ashamed to admit that she was enjoying watching Kelly so uncomfortably try to fumble her way through the apology.
She had fired Archer the moment Zoey had told her that he was the one to leak the rumors and photos about them. She had blacklisted his name to everyone's flight crew that Mark could get in touch with. Archer wouldn't be working with any A-listers anytime soon.
"I understand why you did it," Pia said finally, saving Kelly from further explanation.
"You do?" Kelly asked, her brow creasing.
Pia nodded. "This show is connected to me. My name is on it. I am the face. But you're the hardest working person on staff. Probably even more than me, to be honest. And so if anything threatens to bring me down, it affects the show, which affects you. I get it. You thought you were protecting me," she said.
Kelly looked relieved.
"That doesn't mean it was right," Pia added.
Kelly nodded quickly. "I know," she said.
"I couldn't do this without you," Pia said, putting her hand on Kelly's shoulder. "And I'm grateful you're by my side through all of this. I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you for why things... for why it didn't..." She trailed off.
Kelly nodded again.
"Believe me, she and I fucked it all up on our own," Pia said with a sardonic laugh.
"Oh, well, yeah, I knew that," Kelly said with a grin as she stepped on the gas to get them back to the studio.
Pia's stomach swirled with nerves and anticipation as she walked back into her office. She passed Freya only briefly in the hallway — her best friend had promised to be in the audience for the show.
Mark buzzed in through the phone. "Mrs. West is here," he said.
"Thanks," Pia said. "Send her in."
The door opened and in stepped her former mother-in-law. She hadn't seen Sheila in... well, since all of Elle's affairs and estate were dealt with.
She and Sheila had never been big fans of one another, but their mutual interest of Elle's foundation — where Sheila was the President — and the memory of Elle kept them in each other's good graces.
The Sheila she had known had been all business — straight-laced, tailored jackets, no nonsense.
The Sheila that walked into her office, though... She was completely different.
She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with the Elle Marino foundation's logo on it. She had gained a little weight and looked healthy, alive, and glowing.
Pia moved around the edge of her desk, reaching to shake Sheila's hand. "I'm so happy you decided to come on the show," she said.
Sheila pulled her into a tight hug instead. "I know it's been awhile, but I think this is a fantastic idea. I just wasn't... ready until now." As they pulled out of the hug, Sheila held her hand.
"I wasn't ready either," Pia said,
"I'm so proud of what you've done. Elle would have loved this," Sheila said, her eyes glossy.
Pia, unable to speak, simply nodded. "Thank you," she croaked. "That means... everything."
Sheila looked around the office. "And it's a wonderful opportunity to talk about the foundation and raise awareness," Sheila said.
Pia nodded. Sheila and Elle had always been complete opposites. Elle was warm and affectionate and shy, and Sheila was... well, none of those things. In Pia's opinion, the Sheila she had known was ruthless and ambitious and cold.
The Sheila standing in front of her was much more like Elle. Her closest connection to ever getting her wife back.
Pia hugged her again, willing herself not to cry. It was cathartic, being around Sheila now.
"You remind me so much of her," Sheila said in a whisper, patting Pia on the shoulder.
"Really?" Pia said.
Kelly poked her head in the door. "Can we get you to hair and makeup, Mrs. West?"
"I'll see you on the stage, sweetie," Sheila said, squeezing her hand before walking out.
Pia sat in her chair on stage, trying to keep her feet from jiggling — one of her anxious ticks that pissed off viewers wrote about the most.
She sipped at the water she had in a coffee cup on the table in front of her.
You got this. You got this. You're Pia Marino. You interviewed Barack Obama. Talking about Elle is going to be a piece of cake compared to how nervous you were for that.
Kelly held up a hand signal to let her know they'd begin the segment in thirty seconds.
She set her water down and cleared her throat, moving her shoulders to relax her posture.
Kelly gave her the go-ahead signal.
"Our next guest is someone very near and dear to my heart. Something you may or may not know about me is that I've been married before. I was married to a wonderful woman—"
The crowd "aww"-ed as if on cue. Pia saw on the monitors that they had put a photo of Elle behind her. Pia looked over her shoulder at the larger image on the screen.
Elle was smiling that contagious smile, the one that made her nose crinkle just slightly. Her green eyes were shining in the sunlight. She looked truly stunning.
"Yep, that's her. Elle was one of the best people I've ever met. She was a ray of sunshine. She brightened every room she walked into. She could do anything. Except cook," Pia said, smiling to herself.
"And then, tragically, ten years ago, Elle's light burned out. She had a stroke in her sleep, and she never woke up," Pia paused, reaching for her water cup again as she tapped her note cards on the arm of the chair.
"I apologize. I've never... I don't... It's hard to talk about," Pia said, clearing her throat.
"But sometimes we need to talk about hard things. If I can tell you Elle's story, and it brings awareness to a serious issue... if it saves even one life in her honor, then I'm okay with doing the hard thing," Pia said, blinking quickly to keep her composure.
"In honor of Elle, I've asked a special woman to join me today in talking about stroke awareness, prevention, and what we're doing to help survivors of stoke. Please help me welcome Elle's mother, Sheila West."
The crowd stood and applauded Sheila's entrance. Sheila had been re-dressed in a pale sundress, which made her look even more youthful and alive. She waved politely, crossing the stage to give Pia a tight hug.
They introduced the foundation that they had made in Elle's honor — a foundation that helped stroke victims with medical and recovery costs, stroke victim's families with support in both caretaking and estate matters, and general awareness about the cause, prevention, and signs of stroke.
Sheila explained that Elle died of a hemorrhagic stroke that was caused by a brain aneurysm — it was instant, and there were no signs.
They recounted Elle's life, what she was like, what she liked to do, and memories that they shared of her.
Pia was so impressed with Sheila's on-air demeanor. She was so much like Elle in that moment — warm, approachable, encouraging... Where had that woman been all along? When had she become that way?
"So, then the pot holder's on fire, and Elle just throws it to the ground and backs away, hands over her head," Sheila recounted the Thanksgiving that Elle burnt the turkey, lit the pot holders on fire, burned a hole in the kitchen floor, and then convinced them all to eat pumpkin pie in place of the turkey.
Pia wiped at the corners of her eyes, laughing so hard that tears were starting to creep up on her.
Sheila took a deep breath, calming down after laughing. "But, you know what my favorite thing to remember about Elle is?" She asked.