“Riley, cut the poetry. Just spit it out already,” Jake snaps, clearly as lost as I am.
“None of what you just said makes any sense to me either,” I add.
“Okay, let me break it down. This female editor started capturing snippets of Nigel around the office. Most everything involved Nigel in his element, aka flirting shamelessly with different women. From the expression on these women’s faces, it’s clear that it was unsolicited. On the night of the incident, this film editor captured every moment from when the security guards took over from Hunter all the way to when Nigel is being taken away in handcuffs by the police. She created this fairly unflattering video collage and uploaded to YouTube on Wednesday night. In less than two days, it’s gone viral.”
“What kind of numbers are we talking about here?”
“Hunter, from the last count—right before I started cooking lunch—it already had over four point eight million views.”
Holy shit.
“No way,” Jake shouts.
“Are you kidding?” I exclaim, shocked.
Riley shakes her head. “I’m not. You can check it out on your phone. This is the kind of stuff I can’t make up. If you type ‘Nigel Warner disgraced chef’ in the search engine, the video is the first result to pop up.”
Suddenly my excitement dies. “A lot of people are bored and looking for anything to distract them. These are some big numbers, but why does it matter?”
“Good question. Nigel is very popular in the UK. He’s like a rock star over there. He’s made a fortune with his shows, restaurants and all of the white label products that feature his name and face. There are many articles online that suggest he’s worth over forty million dollars. I know it’s nearly half in British pounds, but still, that’s no chump change. In the process, he’s made a lot of enemies—both men and women. The British tabloids are merciless and they’re having a field day. For the past thirty-six hours, they’ve been chopping up Nigel into tiny small pieces and serving him cold. It ain’t pretty.”
“Holy shit. He deserves this kind of humiliation.” There’s no love in my heart for that asshole.
“No one wants to see anyone go down in flames like that, but this guy was begging for it.” Once again, Jake hits the nail right on the head.
“Oh, and it gets better… or worse… depending on which side of the table you sit on.” Riley’s expression is one of disgust. Whatever she’s about to share must be bad.
“Let’s hear it and get it over with,” I press. I take a deep breath and brace myself. I glance in Jake’s direction to see if he knows what’s coming, but he just shrugs his shoulders. I guess we’ll both find out soon.
“The most important reason why Gary requested an early meeting this morning was to tell me that the viral video will help Miranda’s case in a way he couldn’t ever imagine. Paul Ward confirmed that as well.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. You just said that the film editors were trapped inside a room while Nigel was attacking Miranda. How can this scorned woman have anything on film that could help my girlfriend? So what the video’s been seen several millions of times. Unless it shows him attacking Miranda, why would anyone give a damn? I don’t get it, Riley.”
“Social media is a very powerful thing, Hunter.”
“Care to elaborate on that?” Jake asks.
“I was going to get to that,” Riley snaps at her brother’s impatience. “When I walked into Gary’s office this morning and I saw Paul sitting there, I knew this wasn’t just a casual update. It had to be something serious for legal to also be part of the meeting. To answer your question Hunter, the viral video cracks this case wide open. It’s no longer just about our beloved Miranda.”
“Huh?” I’m really confused here.
“Victims of Nigel Warner here at Food Network and also in London came out in droves. Yesterday morning, two women were waiting for Gary in front of his office to speak to him. They spilled their guts for hours. He thought that was it, but he was wrong. By midday two other women came forward. At BBC Food, the numbers are much worse.”
“Are you saying Nigel attacked other women, not just Miranda?” I can hardly believe my ears.
“Gary’s hands are tied and based on Paul’s advice, there’s only so much he can reveal without jeopardizing the impending case. So to answer your questions, I’m not sure if these women were harassed or attacked. It seems in London, it’s really bad. Gary said based on what’s been floating around on the Internet, Miranda is one of the lucky ones.”
“Lucky?” I ask incredulously. “How can you even say that?”
“Riley, I think Miranda would argue with you on that one. So would I,” Jake scolds.
“I’m not sure how else to say it,” Riley confesses. “When I left the meeting I was fairly shaken. Something nudged at me. What Gary wasn’t willing or able to reveal transformed me into this possessed woman. I just had to know. I ran to my office, turned on my laptop and I did a few Google searches—until that meeting it never occurred to me to dig further. I had done a quick search before Nigel came over, but since that video went viral, there’s a whole lot of shit floating around cyberspace about Nigel Warner. I typed a few keywords and that’s when Pandora’s box opened up right in front of me. I was completely dumbfounded and very much unprepared. The allegations the British press is making are chilling. Of course, nothing is official yet, but these women Nigel worked with in London had sad and disturbing stories to tell.” That’s one Google search I’ll be sure not to make. Riley takes my hands into hers once again, forcing my attention back to her. She takes a deep breath in and prepares herself to speak, but she pauses. When her eyes water, my chest contracts. “I know Miranda is struggling to forget the attack and move past that night. The pig scared her shitless, but he didn’t have time to do much more. According to these women in the UK…” Riley pauses again and takes another deep breath in. “Rape is a much more gruesome burden to carry.” She chokes on the last part as she fights back tears.
“Jesus Christ,” I blurt out, blinking away.
“Fuck, this is getting uglier and more perverted by the second,” Jake interjects. “This asswipe doesn’t even deserve to walk around with his cock still attached to his body. Someone needs to chop it off or burn it with acid until there’s nothing left. I’ll gladly do the honors,” he spits out.
“I totally agree with you, Jake.” Riley wipes under her eyes. “Gary’s a tough guy, but even he was totally disgusted by all of this. Nigel’s boss is the one who got the biggest wake-up call.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Let’s just say his boss now understands why the predator has never been able to hold onto to an assistant for longer than a few months. Since Rosemund started working for Nigel not long before they came here, she was spared. I guess too much was going on for him to focus solely on her. Maybe the first day he came to visit our studios upon his arrival, he realized there were other fish in the pond. Apparently, he also had a thing for women who work in the accounting department. Something about them being repressed vixens. Don’t ask.” Riley rolls her eyes. “I don’t get it either. It’s just stuff I read online,” she adds when I shake my head. “He’s just a psycho freak. Many of these women claim they went out for drinks with Nigel and the next thing they knew, it was morning and they were at his place… in his bed. When they woke up—with a raging headache—they couldn’t remember much. Their bodies ached as if they had been hit by a Mack truck or stampeded by a herd of African elephants. Many reported being terribly bruised. Luckily, some kept photos of the day after. From what I’ve been able to read so far, they all had the same story to share. Another interesting—or should I say disgusting—thing I read was that when these women asked Nigel about the black and blue marks on their bodies, he always had the same answer. ‘It’s okay if you like it rough. We don’t have to tell anyone about it.’ None of them had ever had any inclination for that kind of savage sex in the past.”
&nbs
p; “No fucking way,” I shout.
“Date rape?” Jake is able to say the words. I’m not.
“Unfortunately, it all seems to point in that direction. Miranda’s refusal to have drinks with Nigel played in her favor. I have a suspicion Nigel was spiking these women’s drinks, which explains why none of them could remember a thing the morning after. He got impatient in the end and decided to attack Miranda before leaving, but that’s not usually how he operates. Hunter, you showed up at the right time and essentially saved Miranda from the claws of a sadist monster who would’ve destroyed her soul. He usually finishes what he starts.” Riley’s words are chilling.
Dear God.
CHAPTER FIVE
Miranda
The door cracks open, but I make no effort to move. The steps get closer and I shut my eyes, trying my best to delay the inevitable. The truth is, I’ve been lying here looking out of the large window at the tops of the plush trees that line the garden. Small hands touch my shoulders, but I don’t budge. I already know it’s not Hunter.
“Miranda, sweetheart, wake up. It’s already one o’clock. Let’s go brush your teeth. I’ll help you take a shower, we’ll get you into some clean clothes and then you need to eat something. I prepared your favorite muffins.” Jess is shaking me, hoping I might get up. When I don’t respond, she presses on. “Come on, honey, we both know you can’t resist my Nutella banana oat muffins.” I can hear the excitement in her voice. Normally, I’d spring off this mattress like a baby elephant bouncing off a trampoline, but not today. Those muffins should come with a warning. Alas, it’s not enough to motivate me to make much of an effort. Going downstairs seems just too far. “They’re fresh out of the oven. I made sure to prepare them here and not at my house. Your grandma had me buy tons of Italian bacon. I’ll prepare that with some eggs to start,” she adds in an effort to tempt me.
“I don’t want to get up,” I simply say. “I’m going to try to fall back asleep.” My back is still facing her. I don’t even bother flipping over.
When my eyes are shut, my mind doesn’t churn. I don’t have to deal with these haunting images I can’t seem to forget. They keep looping over and over as if I have absolutely no control over them.
“Miranda.” She shakes me harder. “You haven’t eaten a thing since last night… and it wasn’t much. You had two bites of the lasagna your grandmother prepared and you were done. At this rate, you’ll waste away. You’ve already lost enough weight as is.”
“I know you mean well, but it’s okay, Jess. I’m not very hungry,” I grumble and pull the sheet over my head.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I made a promise to your boyfriend and I intend on keeping it,” she scolds.
“It’s not as if you can force me to eat.”
“Wanna bet? I’m not as lenient as your grandmother or your mother.” I hear the warning in her voice. “I’m going to make damn sure you get something in your stomach before Hunter comes back. I don’t want to get in trouble with your man.”
She sounds so worried. I feel so bad for putting her through this. In fact, I can’t believe how many people have rearranged their lives to watch over me this past week. I’m riddled with guilt, but at the same time I just don’t know how to snap out of it. It’s as if Nigel Warner has taken a huge piece of me.
Reluctantly I decide to do as I’m told. “Where’s Hunter?” I ask, slowly flipping around before sitting up on the bed.
“He left an hour ago. He’s having lunch with Jake and Riley at her place. Last night he asked me to come over so you’re not alone.”
“I see.” I sweep my cascade of hair behind my shoulders to be better able to see Jess. “Aren’t you working? I mean I appreciate this, but I don’t want you to miss out on work on my account.”
“For the next couple of weeks I’m working on a nighttime entertainment show. I’m replacing one of their full-time makeup artists while she’s on vacation. I don’t need to be at work until much later today.”
“Oh.” I rub my eyes to shake off some of this fatigue, but it’s in vain.
“Are Nona and my mom downstairs?”
Jess takes my hands into hers. “They left last night, honey. They came up to kiss you goodbye, but you were sleeping.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, vaguely remembering Mom mentioning she had to go back home for a few days. “I guess I lost track of time.” I’ve been lying here for so long I wouldn’t be able to tell you which day of the week it is.
“Your mom had to go back to check on the restaurant. You know how she doesn’t like to stay away for too long because of her bad experience. Your grandmother also had to go back because she has a very important doctor’s appointment on Monday. Since she’s been on the waiting lists for months, she didn’t want to miss it. Both your mother and your grandmother will be back on Tuesday and they’ll spend the rest of the week with you.”
My eyes widen at Jess’ explanation. “I’m sure Mom and Nona must’ve told me, but quite frankly it’s all a little fuzzy.”
Jess brings her hands to my face and traces her index finger under my eyes. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
I look up at the ceiling, fighting off tears. “No. Not much.”
“You still have nightmares?”
I nod. “I despise him for what he’s done to me. I hope Nigel Warner burns in hell,” I spit out.
“Don’t let him win.” Yeah, Hunter has been repeating this all week like a mantra. “You’re way stronger than that, Miranda. I’ve known you for way too long not to know that you’re a real fighter.”
“I feel powerless right now. I can’t control my thoughts, I can’t fall asleep when I want to, I spend way too much time crying and I’ve lost my appetite. Heck, I don’t even want to leave this room. I doubt those are the marks of a fighter,” I bark, frustrated. “And what kills me the most is that I’m too lethargic to enjoy the man I love. I know he’s there watching over me and taking care of me, but I’m unable to reach out to him. That breaks my heart. He deserves better.”
Jess places her fingers under my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. She wipes the tears rolling down my cheek with her other hand. “Now you listen here, Miranda Olivia Reddick.” She’s got my full attention now. “You stop it right now with that kind of nonsense. Hunter Evans adores you. I’ll bet every penny I own that the man would wait for you to get better for as long as it takes. As far as you not sleeping, it’s temporary. It might take you another few days, or a week, or two, or even a few months, but eventually the nightmares will subside.”
“What if they don’t?” I ask defiantly.
She looks at me as if to say, Are you serious? Her expression is a mix of bewilderment and sadness. She holds my gaze for a few seconds and slowly the corner of her mouth lifts up. “Then I’ll have to get all Southern and channel our friend Stacy. I’ll start by putting a voodoo spell on the motherfucker’s ass and then I’ll perform extensive white magic on you to bring you out of the shadows and into the light.” She just stares at me, waiting for it, and then it hits me.
Her off-the-wall answer takes me aback and to my great surprise my lips start quivering. It’s a giggle at first, but it soon turns into a full-out belly-shaking roar. I know Jess is referring to a large billboard we saw when we first moved to LA for a certain Mistress Sweet Stacy, who claimed to be able to cast a black magic voodoo spell on anyone who wronged us. The reason it caught our attention was because this so-called modern-day witch was located in our home state, but according to her ad, she served clients across the country… and LA was one of her hottest markets. I remember Jessica and I lost it. I mean, who does this kind of thing as a career and actually makes a living off of it? Clearly business must have been good for the mistress since I have no doubt that billboard must’ve cost her a shitload of money.
Flashing back to that episode only makes me laugh harder. It doesn’t take long for Jess to join me. She’s howling so hard that she’s now spread on top of me on the bed. We laugh, and laugh,
and laugh until we’re both out of breath.
“Oh, my God, that was the best timing ever. That was absolutely hilarious.”
“And you know I’m badass enough to do it too. I’ll have that British fuck’s head spinning around like in The Exorcist,” she quips.
The only reason we know of that cult horror movie is because Jess sent in her portfolio when they were casting for the updated version of that franchise. Unfortunately, the movie was a no go, but she had to do her research and of course being the good friend I am, I watched those early movies with her. Neither of us slept for weeks after watching them.
“God, the visual is priceless,” I let out, trying to contain my laugher.
“I’d also change his pompous accent to American while his head is swirling like a spinning top. Now that would be funny.”
We’re at it again. This time we laugh until tears of joy rolls down our faces. After a few more minutes, we finally compose ourselves.
“Thank you so much, Jess. I so needed that.”
“So did I, honey. Seeing you like this has affected me a lot. It’s great to catch a snippet of your old self. Hopefully now you believe me when I say you can get past this?” She sits on her knees on the bed, leans forward, grabs my cheeks with both hands and kisses me on the forehead.
I squirm underneath her, but I’m loving every minute of it. “I hope you’re right. I’m tired of having Nigel occupy my thoughts like this and I hate waking up this exhausted.”
“Give it time. That’s all you can do.”
“Okay. Maybe you’re right.”
“How many times do I have to remind you, I’m always right?”
I roll my eyes at her.
“Are you willing to get up on your own or do I have to swing you over my shoulder and drag you to the bathroom?”
She’s so adorable when she’s this motherly. I shake my head. “I think I can manage, but I wouldn’t mind if you came with me.”
“Consider it done. What are friends for?”
In the past few days I’ve really learned the meaning of the words friendship and family. Without all these people taking turns doting on me, I doubt very much I would’ve been able to make it on my own. The biggest lesson is the word love. The protective way Hunter has sheltered me from the outside world leaves me in awe. I may not have been talking much, but I’ve always been aware of his presence… even if it was just for a few passing seconds. Just when I think I can’t fall more for him, he proves me wrong.
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