That was the worst part. The idea that Connor cared so little about me that he hadn’t even tried to apologize or patch things up. He hadn’t made any effort to speak to me. He just let me go around the studio, doing my thing, and staying the hell out of my way. Even though I’d been grateful for the space at first, an apology would be nice... eventually.
“At least I’m back at home now,” I told my dad. “And I got to be here for Christmas. That’s good, right?”
My dad nodded. “I guess so, Izzie.”
I felt my mouth fall open in shock. “Don’t you like having me back for Christmas?”
“Of course!” he told me. “But you don’t seem that happy to be back.” I could tell my dad felt conflicted by all this. “I’m just worried about you, Izzie. You’ve been so quiet lately.”
He was right. When I got to the house and found all our stuff strewn about and the police taking pictures, I’d lost the last of my composure. They wouldn’t let me in to see my dad. Something in me broke.
I’d put my head down after that. I avoided Connor, too angry to speak to him. I’d thought we had something. Even though I didn’t know exactly what yet, I’d been about to confess my feelings to him. And he stabbed me in the back. He accused my one living relative of something horrible. Then, when his people’s theory hadn’t proven correct, he’d done nothing to fix things with me.
I thought he felt something back for me. But it turned out I was just a vessel after all. Only instead of just making a baby for him, I’d been willing to fuck him too. What a deal. I felt like such a fool.
“I’m sorry, dad,” I eventually answered. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
My dad looked at me curiously. “When did you realize you were in love with him?”
I froze. “What?”
He knew?! He’d figured it out?!
He laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, Izzie. I’m not trying to put you on the spot or anything. It’s just, I’ve known you a long time. I’m not a total fool, you know. I can see what’s going on here.”
I swallowed hard, feeling exposed and raw out of nowhere. I guess all my morose moping around like a ghost was pretty transparent. My last couple of weeks had been dour, and I was never a particularly dour person. If anything, I was a committed optimist. I’d get angry before sad any day. But I’d been crying a lot lately, especially at night. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that I was heartbroken.
“Dad, I—” The words wouldn’t come. He stared patiently while I organized my thoughts. “It didn’t happen right away,” I finally managed. “It took a while. We obviously didn’t get along so great at first. But then things changed. I only realized I wanted… more very recently.”
“And what does he want?” my dad asked. “It seems like he’s trying to make you happy.”
“He… he is trying. But then this whole thing with the stolen money happened. Actually, I have no idea what Connor wants at this point. We had a pretty good screaming match right before I came home. Dad, I have no clue what I’m doing.”
My dad’s expression was mild. “Well, I’m here for you. I’m not sure how I feel about Connor Prince these days. First, he made you pregnant. Then he made you miserable. Then he made you happy. Now you’re miserable again. All I really want is for you to be happy. So, whatever I can do, just let me know. But I think this might be one problem your old dad can’t solve for you.”
I nodded. This was something I’d have to figure out for myself. Somehow.
38
Connor
The Ghost
“Connor, are you listening to me?” Luc said in my ear. “Earth to Connor? We have an investor meeting tomorrow at eight…”
I tuned him out. Although I kept the phone to my ear, I wasn’t listening. I’d just caught sight of Isabelle on set again. But only for a moment. She was already walking the other way and disappearing around the corner, looking disgusted. Crap.
I’m sorry, Isabelle. It looks like your dad didn’t commit that felony after all. It sucks that your home got turned upside down by the police, including your dead mom’s bedroom. That must have been traumatic on top of your pregnancy hormones. Anyway, want to get lunch?
It didn’t sound great. And I had another problem, too. The investors that were funding this shitty Night Stalker movie were pissed off. They’d ponied up more than fifty million dollars to my production company. And I’d allowed several million of that to be stolen right out of the studio. The police had said that in the absence of an actual clue, they couldn’t do much more. Until someone attempted to use the card again, the whole mess was at an impasse. I’d been spending what felt like every spare moment reassuring the investors that I was a good fiduciary.
“Connor,” Luc snapped. “Are you prepared for the meeting tonight? They want you there in person.”
“I’m here,” I told Luc. “Sorry. I got distracted. I’ll be there tonight.”
I wouldn’t be with Isabelle, that’s for sure. She hated me. Again. It was obvious. Every time Isabelle saw me coming, she went the other way. I’d confirmed by tracking her movements that she would literally walk around entire city blocks to avoid passing directly by me. I’d fucked up big time and now the woman I was in love with, the mother of my baby, fucking hated me.
I’d spent Christmas and New Year’s alone. That was fairly normal for me. Only I’d thought this year would be different. I wanted Isabelle at my side.
I’d considered apologizing. I’d even practiced it in my mind, scribbled some notes down, and practiced them in the car as I was driving. But what could I say that wouldn’t sound inadequate?
And now, in addition to Isabelle, I was about to lose everything professionally. If the investors pulled their funding, I’d be pooched. Not just on this movie, either. The people that make Hollywood work on the financial end are all eccentric. Much more eccentric than I am. But they aren’t stupid. They didn’t appreciate the fact that so much cash had gone missing and that I’d failed to recover it. If I didn’t figure out what happened, one might lose his nerve and pull out. That would cause the others to panic and they’d all pull out. And once you lose one production in the middle of filming, it’s damn hard to ever get another one.
“What are we even going to tell the investors?” I asked Luc, although my heart was barely even in it. “When I show up and they realize it’s me, they’re going to think I’m the criminal that did the stealing.”
“No, they won’t,” Luc soothed. “You have an alibi. I have a full accounting of your movements, and honestly, you have too much money for this.”
“They’ll still think I’m an unstable freak.”
“Maybe. But that’s most of Hollywood. It’s just important that you reassure them we’re working on figuring out who stole the money. And that we’re going to get it back.”
“Is that even true?” I grumped.
“Of course, it is,” he assured me.
“You still think it’s Maurice?”
“Yes. I do.”
I wasn’t so sure, but part of me was also still convinced it was Maurice. He had quit the production on the day the money was stolen. And the first time the card was used, it had been right after I propositioned his daughter. Each time the card had a cash withdrawal, it was within a few miles of his house. If he knew I was behind the production, he might have felt justified to steal from me. After all, I was taking something from his daughter. Her firstborn. He’d told me himself that he thought of the baby as his grandkid. Maybe he felt it justified his crime. Maybe he was even right…
“Isabelle is convinced it wasn’t him,” I reminded Luc. That night felt so long ago now. She’d come down the stairs in that dress, smiling. And she’d left, crying. “She told us that there was no reason for her dad to start stealing at this point in his life. I think she might have had a point. And we never did find the card.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Luc told me. “Look, I get that you like Isabelle and you d
on’t want it to be her dad that’s behind this, but we’ve got no other suspects.”
At that moment, Ashton Radley happened to walk by. We were shooting a wedding scene today and he was wearing a tux. He kept posing in it like he was 007. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d never be cast as anything but werewolf food. He was too stupid, too cocky, and too untalented to ever get top billing in an action franchise. Being pretty isn’t enough. He should have stuck with modeling.
“’Sup Werewolf dude,” he said as he passed. “Looking spooky as always.”
I would have frowned at him, but it was impossible with the muzzle. Was that meant as a friendly greeting? He still didn’t know my name yet? God, I really wanted it to be Ashton who did the stealing. He was so smarmy.
“Can we look into Radley again?” I asked Luc in a low voice. “I really feel like we must have missed something about him.”
I could almost feel Luc shrugging through the phone. “I doubt we’ll find anything we haven’t already found, but sure. Do you want me to get the PI on him this time?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s just do that. I know its pricey, but we’ve got no other leads and I’m getting less convinced Isabelle’s dad did it.”
“You don’t think it’s suspicious that the card hasn’t been used since his visit from the police?” Luc asked.
“I think it might just be a coincidence,” I told him. “Let’s try following Radley a bit. I just can’t believe that he’s innocent. Maybe he didn’t do this, but he’s up to something.”
“Okay, okay,” Luc replied. He paused. “Are you going to do the other thing we talked about, today?”
I took a deep breath, gulping in air like it was courage. The other thing was to talk to Isabelle.
“Yeah. I’ll try.”
39
Isabelle
The Proposition
Ashton Radley came up to me that afternoon as the crew was helping me set up some of the scene design for the next shot. I watched him approach, drifting up so confidently, and wishing I could magically teleport anywhere else. Except maybe to wherever Connor was at the moment. It was damn hard to avoid two men at the same time on a movie set. I guess I was bound to run into one of them sooner or later.
“Hi, Isabelle,” Radley said. He was wearing that stupid fucking movie star grin again. “How’s the scenery taking shape?” he asked.
I spread my hands at the jungle scene around us. “You tell me.”
“I think it’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are.” He winked at me.
Barf. He was lucky my morning sickness had already emptied my stomach. Otherwise its contents would be all over his pretty face.
“What can I help you with?” I asked Radley. We weren’t alone, several other people were with us, but this conversation felt weird. Maybe it was just because every conversation with Ashton Radley set me on edge, but I was getting the feeling that he wanted something from me, and the answer was already no.
“I heard your dad was in some hot water,” he said in a low voice. “I heard some of the crew talking about it. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I frowned. “What did you hear?” I whispered back.
I guess it was only a matter of time before the word got out, but the idea that people were gossiping about my dad made me feel ill. I especially hated that Radley apparently thought it was a good thing to bring up with me.
“This is only a rumor, of course,” Radley told me, smiling like the devil, “but I heard he’d been accused of stealing some money. A large amount of money. From Night Stalker.” I didn’t respond so he took that as an invitation to continue. “In fact, I heard that the police came out to your house. That must have been awful.”
“It was.” I didn’t know what else to say. It had been awful. “But they didn’t find anything, because my dad is innocent. So, if you hear any more rumors, I would appreciate if you shut them down.”
Radley was still smiling at me. His eyes twinkled. “I think I can do more to help you than just shut the rumors down. Why don’t we have dinner. I have an offer for you.”
I paused. “An offer?”
Radley nodded. “Listen, I’ve got a lot of sway with the production company making this movie.” That was a lie, Connor was the production company. He loathed Radley. “I could probably pull a few strings and make this go away.” Another lie. Unless he was the one who stole the money and was planning on giving it back, he couldn’t help.
“I don’t think so,” I told Radley. “I’m not interested in your offer.”
“You haven’t even heard it yet,” he replied. He was positively leering at me now. I’d never been more grateful to have other people present than I was right now. Because I was sure if we’d been alone that he would have touched me. And then I would have had to kick him in the balls again. “I can assure you,” he continued, almost purring at me now, “it’ll be intensely pleasurable for us both. And afterwards, I can make your problem about this stolen money go away.”
Pleasurable? Oh hell no. This was the sex tape thing! He wanted me to make a sex tape with him!
Connor had told me about Ashton Radley’s planned sex tape with me. It was something we laughed about in bed, actually. Thinking back to that little island of happiness with Connor in the sea of our larger mess made my heart hurt, but I definitely hadn’t forgotten him mentioning that Radley made a bet with someone that I’d make a dirty video with him. Apparently, this was his play to get me onboard.
“No, thank you,” I told Radley. “I have to get back to work.”
I would never in a billion years let Ashton Radley talk me into a sex tape, or a night out. I would never let him talk me into taking a sip of a beer he handed me, either. The man was pure sleaze. The farther away from him I could stay, the better.
I hoped he was out a hell of a lot of money with whomever he’d made that bet with. I hoped they broke his kneecaps as a result. It wasn’t very nice, but I hoped they took it out on his face. Because just because I couldn’t have Connor didn’t mean I had to settle for Ashton Radley. Not today. Not ever.
40
Isabelle
The Horror
When Connor came into the workshop to find me looking over the fur suits that we were going to need for next week’s full-on werewolf battle scene at the climax of the movie, I was so stunned by what I was seeing that I didn’t even react in anger.
“What does this stain here look like to you?” I asked Connor. Lettie had already been in to see my discovery, but as a self-professed “gold star lesbian” she declared herself to be uniquely unqualified to assist.
I’m sure he’d been expecting to be yelled at. He blinked in shock and walked closer to see what I was pointing at. It felt odd to be so close to him after three weeks of total avoidance, but at the moment, I was not in my right mind.
“Where?”
“This stain on the suit here,” I explained, pointing at it from a safe distance back. “What do you think could cause a stain like this?”
It was later in the afternoon. Connor was out of makeup, but he was still wearing his other disguise—dark sunglasses, beard, hoodie pulled up. He took the sunglasses off and approached. When he got close enough, he recoiled.
“Um…” His expression said it all.
“It’s—it’s semen, isn’t it?” I asked, revolted.
He nodded, blue eyes wide and disgusted looking. That kind of a stain is distinctive. Especially on a dark surface, like fur. It was everywhere. It looked like someone had had a party.
“Yeah. That’s exactly what that looks like to me,” Connor said. Then he looked like he might gag. He covered his mouth and shook his head. “That’s, uh, that’s just not right.”
Somebody had fucked somebody else in one of our werewolf suits. Or, by the looks of it, several somebodies. Possibly all at once. And they were all like this. All five werewolf suits were covered in semen.
Connor and I exchanged a horrified look an
d then immediately burst into laughter. It was cathartic. Both because the fur suit thing was really, really gross, and because I’d been getting more and more tense around Connor as the week went by.
“Can we report this as a crime too?” I asked through my giggles. “Because I think we’ve got a real pervert on our hands here.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Connor said. He closed the fur suit closet, carefully, using his sleeve instead of his hand and then wiping it off anyway. “I can recommend a specialty dry cleaner if you need one.”
“I definitely might.”
Was there a dry cleaner in LA that specialized in getting bodily fluids out of fake fur? I would actually bet that there was. It seemed like something we’d need in this city. Both because of the movies, and for… other reasons. Some people were into that, obviously. Like the people who’d had a gigantic werewolf orgy with my costume assets. Christ. What a town.
“Isabelle,” Connor ventured after a moment. “We need to talk.”
I sighed. “Do we have to?”
“Yeah, I think we do,” he replied.
“Are you here to remind me about the contract? Because I still have it.”
If he told me I was in breach of my agreement I was going to fucking scream. But he just look at me, unimpressed.
“Isabelle, come on. Haven’t we moved on from arguing about the damn contract? I miss you. I’m sorry.”
I stared at him, surprised and also chastened. I missed him too. So badly. But beneath that longing I was also so, so angry. “Connor you accused my dad of a felony. You can’t honestly expect me to be cool with that.”
He spread his hands. “I found out about all that at the same time you did. I wasn’t the source of the accusation.”
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