The two trucks were still there, and Lenny wove between them and a dumpster. He cleared the corner just as a limo sped off.
Lenny slumped against the dumpster, breathing hard, twisting his arm to examine the broken skin on his elbow. Fuck it all, always one step away from a break. He didn’t even bother taking a shot of the departing limo. Car photos were, as he had explained to JT, completely useless.
Lenny took the long way home, needing time to clear his head. He had to turn his luck around, and fast. He only had a couple of bills to pay but he was making so little money that he was always behind. He’d been drooling over a new long lens that could be used in low light. Lenses like that cost a fortune.
There had to be a way to get on track.
His cell phone chirped, a Google alarm he had set to go off any time there was news about Marburg. He flipped his eyes back and forth between the road and the screen, keying it to start a video clip from the local news channel. The headline read: Shock and Awe at Shock And Awe Press Conference, Cast Change In The Works? Of course it was about the conference. He’d left before it was over and missed out. Again.
Lenny listened to a breathless reporter standing in front of the now empty bandstand:
“Hollywood is invading Marburg. At a photo shoot today in Marburg Park, the mayor announced that Marburg would be the background shooting locale for the new drama, Shock And Awe. Cast members Michael Stevens, Sean Gentry, and Marburg’s own Jason Ayers were on hand. But the big buzz took place off the podium, completely upstaging the event, when Jason Ayers was caught in a lip lock with a woman in a black beret. The woman, who Channel 12 has identified as Melanie Doyle Upton, then replaced her black beret with a red one before disappearing. Upton also currently lives in Marburg and has worked with Ayers before. This has led to speculation that the changing of the berets was a tease that Upton might be replacing Lisa Vista, a no-show today. Rumor has it that Vista’s contract is still not finalized and she’s asking for more than the studio is willing to pay.”
A blaring horn forced Lenny’s eyes back to the road. He’d just run a red light. He pulled into a gas station parking lot, dazed, staring at the frozen image of Melanie, the red beret cocked on her head, smiling at the camera, at Lenny, mocking him.
Melanie.
The fucking bitch had stolen his idea!
Lenny pounded on the steering wheel and let out an anguished cry.
No way she was going to get away with this. He continued to slam his hand into the steering wheel, not feeling the pain, his eyes locked on Melanie.
The Caddy wove aimlessly, Lenny still raging, slow, then fast, tailgating, swearing at the cars, at his bad luck, at Melanie. Not only did she steal his idea, she’d done it all wrong, she’d ruined it. She wasn’t going to get anything out of Jason, he wasn’t a big enough name, a few seconds of local publicity with him wasn’t going to do her any good at all. The big stations and websites wouldn’t bother to carry a kiss of two small time actors, even one with Melanie’s good looks.
Jason looked like such a wuss, what the fuck was Melanie doing with him?
It had all been Lenny’s idea. She’d stolen it, but she’d fucked it up big time. It was like putting your name on someone else’s photo, pure plagiarism.
Photos. Lenny had seen a video, had Melanie found another photographer to take some stills?
Lenny jerked the big car to the side of the road, spinning through his phone web browser before he’d completely stopped. Nothing would be on Google yet, so he surfed to the largest local celebrity site, and there it was. Three shots of Melanie in the bright red beret, her hand on her hip, capturing the essence of both Laura Croft of Tomb Raider and Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, or maybe Jessica Alba from Dark Angel, tougher actually, like she’d wipe up the floor with all of them.
Posing. Not like Melanie had been caught unawares, but playing for the cameras, and probably one in particular. The images were credited to a Tim Tazik, whoever the fuck that was.
So the photo had been planned all along, just as Lenny had suggested. But instead of having Lenny take the shots, Melanie had set it up with some other photographer. Probably some guy she’d end up sleeping with. Exactly what Lenny had planned to do with Melanie in exchange for the photos.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Lenny dropped his head on the steering wheel. He just couldn’t get a break. No, that wasn’t it, people kept fucking him over, making fun of him, taking advantage of him. His mother, making him run her errands when he had better things to do. Melanie, stealing his idea, probably laughing at him right now.
He banged his head against the steering wheel, waiting for the pain, wanting the pain. But it didn’t come. Just as when he had slammed his hand against it, he didn’t hurt, all the hurt was in his head, his mind so beaten up by all the bad luck and assholes that his body was somehow inured.
To prove it, Lenny slammed his fist against the door. Nothing.
He bet that Tim fucking Tazik would feel it if Lenny hit him that hard. Or Melanie.
The thought brightened him, and, proud of his calm, Lenny put the car in gear and headed off to find someone to hit.
Lenny wanted to see Melanie’s reaction when he told her he was going to beat the shit out of Tazik. That would show her she couldn’t fuck with him.
He parked the Caddy two feet from the curb in The Café’s valet zone, no one there, the street mid afternoon empty. Lenny pushed through the restaurant door, a few eyes turning his way. No Melanie.
He caught Leah, the waitress from his first visit, rolling her eyes before picking up a menu and approaching him.
“Table for one?” she asked, her voice suggesting Lenny would never have a lunch partner, especially a woman.
Lenny didn’t have time for her. “I’m looking for my friend Melanie.”
“I didn’t know she was your friend.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t tell you everything. Is she here or not?”
Leah pursed her lip, Lenny fighting the urge to slap the look off her face with his newly discovered pain free hand.
“She called in sick.”
“Was that so fucking hard?” Lenny didn’t wait for a reply and stalked out. Of course Melanie wouldn’t come to work, she’d be playing hard to get, a little mystery to let her story build. The headlines running through Lenny’s mind: Who is Melanie Upton? Was her appearance a publicity stunt by the studio? Except the only places the stories would run would be in some local rag, because Melanie had blown it.
Maybe he could still salvage this, at least get Melanie to put out; he’d given her the idea after all. She probably did it all the time, a little personal thanks would be no big deal for her.
He hadn’t found out where Melanie lived, he’d have to work on that. In the meantime, where would she go if she was trying to feed the story about her joining the cast of Shock and Awe? Obviously that whole idea was bullshit, Melanie wouldn’t be working at the restaurant if she had a series lined up.
The hotels. She’d go to where the cast was staying, just to be seen there.
Maybe Tim fucking Tazik would be there too. Lenny would get two for one.
Lenny got his first piece of luck in ages in the parking lot of the Hilton. A small blue Toyota was parked forlornly between two limos, Lenny remembering the car from the parking lot of The Café. It had to be Melanie’s.
Inside the hotel, sure enough, there was Melanie, sitting at the almost empty bar, chatting up the bartender, strategically positioned so that anyone walking through the atrium would notice her. She was all in black, leather jacket, tight leggings, calf hugging boots.
Lenny crossed the atrium, the sound of an indoor waterfall meshing with the pounding in his ears. Lenny feeling it, a surge of strength, only the dreary low key muzak threatening to spoil the mood, in his head a powerful scream of heavy metal.
With each step he grew in power. He couldn’t even feel his feet hit the floor, his strength building, this was what he was meant to be, Melanie
would recognize it immediately. He’d never felt so confident in his life.
Until Melanie turned to him. Lenny tripped on nothing, the power of Melanie’s sexiness smashing into him, her tight physique, her perfect legs. Lenny had to forcibly lift his gaze away from her amazing body into her eyes. Instead of awe, or joy, or even cowering in fright, she scowled. A thunderbolt swatting at a fly in just her look.
Lenny’s knees shook and he had to grasp for a bar stool to keep from falling.
Melanie’s eyes narrowed, her lips barely moving. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You, you—stole my idea!” Lenny sputtered.
Melanie turned away from him, in that one motion dismissing him utterly. She casually picked up her drink. “Tough shit.”
“That’s not fair. It was my idea. Mine. You owe me.” Lenny hearing his own voice, more a whine than the cool toughness he was trying to project.
The bartender, a red-haired kid who barely looked old enough to drink, turned on Lenny. “Melanie, this guy giving you trouble?”
Melanie’s eyes glinted. “If I said yes, would you throw him out?”
The redhead puffed up his narrow shoulders. “Sure.”
“Try it, fuck head,” said Lenny.
Melanie looked back and forth the between the two men, a slight smile playing on her lips. After a beat she said, “Don’t bother, he’s harmless.”
Lenny’s hands wrapped around a dish of peanuts on the bar. “I’ll show you harmless.”
“Hey, calm down, man,” said the bartender.
“You owe me,” Lenny repeated.
“Tell you what,” said Melanie, lazily. “I’ll let you pick up my tab. Again. That’s probably all you’re good for, anyway. Glen, give me another one of these. Make it top shelf this time.”
The bartender laughed, the sound setting off a latent fuse in Lenny. He smashed his hand down on the bar, forgetting he was still holding the glass dish, the peanuts flying everywhere, the dish breaking into pieces, toothpicks scattering like pickup sticks.
Melanie turned her eyes on him, blazing now, fury personified. Lenny wilted under her scornful gaze, not even having the ability to open his mouth, much less speak. What could one possibly say to a storm about to smother him?
With no other option, he ran from the room, humiliated, feeling the eyes on him, the hotel guests, the doorman, the asshole bartender, and most of all, Melanie.
His hand hurt like hell.
CHAPTER 7
Melanie, lying on the floor in her celebratory hot pink underwear, legs up on the couch, her tablet balanced on her bent knees, pulled up the article on the TMZ site again to see if they had made any updates. None yet, but she still felt good about the coverage of the press conference. Her plan had worked perfectly, hence the special occasion underwear. The media world, or at least the part of it that covered cable channel produced TV series, was abuzz with the reputed casting change for Shock and Awe. TMZ had failed to get a quote from Scott James, the series producer, but TMZ made it sound like a no comment, implying that something was in fact going on, that he was dodging the press.
It would be wild if the show did make the casting change. Stranger things had happened. Melanie glanced at her phone on the coffee table, willing it to ring.
It did, and she jumped, pouncing on the phone. No way the show would be calling, not yet, but maybe the press. Melanie was ready for this, she’d been practicing, it was just another role. Play coy, drop a few hints, she didn’t need to lie about anything, just be vague, they’d fill in the holes, making it juicy. Scott James and Melanie Upton refuse to comment on Shock and Awe cast change. Just getting mentioned in a headline with Scott James would be a win for her.
An LA phone exchange, could it be?
She composed herself before answering. “Melanie Upton.” Like she was expecting a business call.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
The screaming voice, familiar, but hard to place, a raucous buzz rattling Melanie’s eardrums. “Who is this?”
“You sure as shit know who it is.” Still shrill and not much quieter.
“Jason.” Melanie was expecting this call too, but not so soon. “What’s this number?” She propped her legs back up on the sofa, she could handle Jason.
“Never mind. I’m the one asking the questions. What was that stunt you pulled at the press conference?”
“I’m reading the coverage now, it went well, don’t you think?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Melanie sighed theatrically. “Jason, Jason. You got the role, but you still haven’t learned the business. It’s all about publicity.”
“Publicity? Is that what this was about? Wait, did someone put you up to this?”
Melanie hadn’t thought Jason was that dumb, but she went with it. “Maybe.”
A long silence, Jason probably thinking it over. “You’re full of shit.”
“You got to admit, I’d be a better choice than Lisa what’s her name.”
“Lisa Vista. Shit, Mel, have you thought about what this will do to her? People are talking about her getting replaced. She’s already called, asking me what’s going on.”
“Why did she call you? Are you sleeping with her already?”
“She’s probably calling everybody. And I’m not sleeping with her, not that it’s any of your business.”
Mel’s voice hardened. “I don’t give a shit about Lisa Vista and neither do you. When did you start to care about other people? Did you even put in a word with Scott James to get me a reading for that role? It was okay to fuck me and dump me, but now you’re worried about how Lisa feels?”
“Mel, this isn’t right.”
“Bullshit Jason, you’d do the same thing.” If you’d been smart enough to think it up.
“No, I wouldn’t. So no one put you up to this, right? That means they aren’t considering a cast change and giving Lisa’s role to you or anyone else. You did it just for your own publicity.”
Melanie rolled her eyes, not believing she thought this guy could be her ticket. Maybe she should have hitched herself to the Michael Stevens bandwagon, as crowded as that probably was right now. “Jason, honey, I did it for you too.”
“What?”
“Think of all the publicity this brings the show. Last week it was just one in a long list of new series. Now everyone will be talking about Shock and Awe. You just watch, the producers will milk this, pump up the drama for the first show, people tuning in to see who is in the cast. They’ll probably call me after all.”
“Mel, I won’t be part of it. You can’t pull me into this.”
“That was you kissing me on the stage. The photo is all over the place, there’s even video. You are already in this.”
“No I’m not.”
“You think anyone is going to believe that? With our history?”
“Mel, you think TMZ is following your love life, or even mine? No one outside of Marburg knows about that.”
“They will if I tell them. Or,” Melanie toyed with her hair, just as she’d be doing if Jason were there, breaking his focus, she’d have him for sure with this next line, so natural it wasn’t even like playing a role, “I could post a few selfies we took.”
“I’ve got selfies with a lot of women.”
Melanie smiled, a little catch in Jason’s voice, defensive. She buried the hook. “With you naked? In my bed?” She didn’t have any such evidence, but Jason would never know, he always fell asleep right after sex.
A pause. “You don’t have pictures like that.”
Melanie didn’t argue, Jason knew she might. And damn, she should have thought of it, not only with Jason, it would be in her arsenal with every guy from now on. Whenever she needed some extra punch, maybe feed them to that weirdo Lenny. Wouldn’t that be a kick, tell him to run with it.
She let Jason worry a bit longer, then shifted her tone. “Maybe we should talk about this in person.” Running her fingers up
and down her legs, letting her near nakedness drift into her voice, hinting at more than talk. If she could get Jason alone she’d be able to knock some sense into him, even if she had to put out. All she needed was for Jason to tell the press he didn’t know anything, which was the truth. If she worked him right she might even get him to be non committal, like he wasn’t admitting what he knew.
“How about now?”
Melanie smiled, she had him. “Sure. Where are you? I’ll just throw something on. Unless you want to see me the way I’m dressed now. Or not dressed now.”
“I’m right outside your apartment.”
“What?” Melanie scrambled up, peering out through the blinds. A few cars driving by, a bum across the street near the recycling dumpster, the usual. “At my apartment?” Buying time.
“The new place you told me about, Lakeview. Although I don’t see a lake. Which unit was it again?”
Christ, he was at Gigi’s apartment complex. Good thing Gigi was on a business trip. Did Gigi have her name on the mailbox? Melanie leaned against the wall, thinking fast. “I’m not at the apartment right now.”
“So what was all that about me seeing what you’re wearing?”
Melanie recognized that gloating tone, Jason thought he had her cornered. “I was just teasing. I’m at a friend’s place, I’m trying to avoid the press.”
“I thought you said you wanted the publicity?”
“I do, but I have to play this right. Listen, Jason, we can work this so we both get a win out of it.”
“There’s nothing to work out.”
“Then why did you call? Why are you at my apartment?”
“To try to talk some sense into you.”
“Or you wanted a booty call for old time’s sake? Or maybe you want to start up again, since we might be working together.”
Random Revenge (Detective Robert Winter Book 1) Page 8