Stalking Sapphire

by Mia Thompson

  The party was underway and like a high-pitched fire alarm in his ear, he had long ago tired of hearing the young Heinz heiress talk about herself. Sapphire never talked about herself. She had always been devoted to listening to him, to his problems and his issues.

  Six hours earlier the boat had been a high class birthday party with esteemed businessmen and respected families. As soon as they left, the younger generation brought out the strippers, champagne, coke, and other miscellaneous drugs.

  He put the phone back in his pocket and saw Chrissy standing by the stern of the yacht making out with Paris Hilton. He would have been surprised, but then again, who hadn’t made out with Paris Hilton.

  Chrissy spotted him and pushed the blond socialite to the side. She marched up to him and splashed her glass of Dom Perignon in his face. “I heard you were going to be here.”

  John wiped the sticky champagne off his face and looked over at her. “I’m good Chrissy, thanks for asking. How are you?”

  “Don’t take it so personally. It’s a best friend code.” Chrissy said and looked around. “So where’s the slut?”

  “Who?”

  “Please, everyone knows you’re dipping your family jewels in the Heinz market.”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere inside,” he said and paused. “Does Sapphire know?”

  “I didn’t tell her. I’m a better friend than that. In fact, I am such a good friend that I’m going to tell you something that Sapphire doesn’t even admit to herself. She really misses you.”

  John’s heart stopped. Chrissy was, like, super smart and the puppet master of mind games and he didn’t want to fall for it, just to be made fun of.

  Chrissy smiled at him slyly, grabbed another bottle of champagne, and opened it.

  “Really? Because I just called her, and she said she wanted to cut my balls off and shove them up my ass.”

  Chrissy sighed then flipped her hair and some hit him in the eye. It stung.

  “She’s hurt you idiot. God, it’s like you went to public school or something. You dumped her at The Club, in front of everyone that’s anyone, i.e. me. She’s heartbroken and she’s totally taking stuff out on me right now. Like always, Chrissy has to carry everyone’s burdens.”

  “How is she by the way?” he asked trying to sound casual.

  Sadness came and passed over Chrissy’s face in a flash of a second then she chugged her drink and shrugged.

  “Fine. I guess. Haven’t really talked to her for a few days; she’s stressed out. Got a finger in the mail because I have a jealous stalker.” She stood up. “Anyway, I just call it like it is. I’m not screwing with you.”

  “My father wants me to marry someone like you.”

  Their eyes met and there was a moment. One of those moments that were hard to pin point the exact emotions. Then Chrissy broke it off with loud laughter.

  “I guess that’s the question. Are you Daddy’s little boy…or are you a man?”

  “If he cuts me off, Sapphire and I would end up in the poor house with her measly 30 mil. What kind of a life is that?”

  “You do what you have to do,” Chrissy said and wandered off to go smack the Prince of Sweden on the ass, leaving John alone with the few thoughts he had.

  * * * * *

  Aston watched Shelly poke around in her mashed potatoes and felt the hunger dig through his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since the day before, and he was so hungry even hospital food started looking like the tastiest shit in the world.

  “I can’t believe I’m here,” she said, confused.

  “What do you mean?” Aston eyed the wrapped brownie on her tray.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly and swirled her fork around in the peas, making no effort to eat any.

  Even Aston knew it would be crossing the line to steal a kidnap and torture victim’s first real meal, but still… “Are you gonna eat that brownie?”

  “No.” Shelly made a motion to give him the dessert, then stopped and stared at the white gauze around the stump of her arm. She sat there for a long time, a little taken back, then tossed the brownie to him with her other hand. “I’ll never get used to it.”

  “Of course you won’t.” Aston said, unwrapping the treat, feeling guilty as he was using both of his hands to do so. She looked over at him, stunned, and Aston could tell he had said something wrong. “I mean…who would? You have two hands and then bam, one’s gone. How could you get used to that?”

  Again, maybe it wasn’t exactly what Shelly needed to hear. “Do you have some questions for me or…?”

  Aston nodded and crammed the rest of the brownie in his mouth. He dug up his recorder and a picture of Sapphire.

  “First. Do you recognize this woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes? Really?” Aston said, excited.

  “Was she not with you when you found me?”

  Aston’s shoulders sank in disappointment. “I mean besides that.” He decided to move on. “Did you know the man who held you?”

  Shelly squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “Yes.”

  Aston scooted his chair closer. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

  She drew for air and her eyes teared up, as if it hurt for her to even breathe. Aston felt a sting of guilt. Had he not spent his days seeing where Sapphire would lead him maybe he could have found Shelly sooner.

  “His name is Quinn Wallace.”

  * * * * *

  “Mmmm,” Sapphire hummed after taking a sip of her truffle martini. It was more to fill out the silence. She didn’t actually like the cocktail. Sapphire had tried multiple conversation starters, but Chrissy had been slow to bite.

  Sapphire had been sitting in the parking lot of Father O’Riley’s church when Chrissy rang the first time. She decided to ignore it. She got out of her car and was about to walk up to the church when she saw Father O’Riley in a violent conversation with a woman; a woman Sapphire had seen once before when she was wearing a Kentucky Derby sized yellow hat while bawling her eyes out in the pew next to Sapphire.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for,” Father O’Riley said and looked over his shoulder nervously. “Please, I beg you, don’t cry.”

  She slammed her car door closed. Father O’Riley tried to stop her but she peeled off, tires screeching.

  Sapphire realized how awkward he’d feel if he realized she’d seen it all, so she was just about to walk back to her car when Chrissy called and Usher screwed her over yet again. She seriously needed to change her ringtone to something more low key.

  Father O’Riley took his attention off the disappearing rear tires and looked at Sapphire.

  She held her hand up awkwardly, greeting him. He waved back, looking as though he just got lobotomized.

  They stood at opposite sides of the small parking lot, her staring at him, him looking like he was going to throw up.

  “I should go back inside,” he said but made no effort to move.

  “Maybe you should go home, you look kind of pale.”

  “Okay,” he said, still not moving.

  “You want me to drive you?”

  “Okay.”

  She took him home, without asking any questions and he seemed to appreciate it.

  When Sapphire parked in front of his house, he seemed to have gathered himself a little.

  “She wanted me to leave the church.”

  “I figured.”

  “And marry her.” He sounded shocked.

  “People have wanted crazier things I suppose.”

  “I told her I could never see her again. What we did was a horrible mistake, that was it.”

  “Hence the skid marks.”

  Sapphire looked over her shoulder, a bit paranoid and Father O’Riley picked up on it.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just these three goons that are supposed to watch over me.”

  “What?”

  “Cops. I managed to shake them like three t
imes, but I think they’ve got a tracker on my car or something because they keep finding me.”

  “Should I even bother to inquire further?”

  “No.”

  He sat silent for a bit then turned to her with a wondering expression.

  “Sapphire, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for some time now. You’ve told me a lot about your mother…”

  Suddenly Sapphire felt claustrophobic in her own car. The side doors seemed to come closer and closer with each passing second. Even the steering wheel in front of her seemed to be coming toward her.

  “But what ab—” Father O’Riley started.

  “I got to go!” Sapphire lied. “I got to go! I have to get back.”

  Father O’Riley nodded calmly and opened the door.

  “You’ll be fine, right? I mean, you’ll go pray or something and you’ll be okay, right?” she asked him.

  “I will be. And you, this killer-fellow-problem almost straightened out yet?”

  “Not even, but Shelly McCormick is safe.”

  “Oh good,” he said sounding relieved. “See you next week then?”

  “See you next week.”

  She watched after him as he staggered up to his house and waited until he had closed the door behind him to take off.

  She returned Chrissy’s call on her way back to L.A., right about the time the three cops pulled up behind her. She waved at them in the review mirror, but they didn’t return the favor.

  “Drinks?” Chrissy asked the second she picked up.

  “Sure,” Sapphire said, definitely in need of alcohol. She had spent the majority of the morning with Julia in the hospital and she was still not improving, the doctors wouldn’t say much, and Antonio was like the living dead.

  After a shower at home and a change to a Dior dress that didn’t smell like hospital, Chrissy came to pick her up and spent most of the ride on her phone—to Sapphire’s delight. Less talking, more drinking was exactly what she needed. They stopped at Chrissy’s new favorite bar in West Hollywood and sat in silence for the majority of the time. It was actually a gay and lesbian bar and Chrissy had explained to Sapphire that it was the it place to be. “Gays and lesbians are soooo in this year,” Chrissy added as they entered.

  Chrissy sipped her drink and then her eyes wandered across the room. “Who are they?” she asked and nodded over to the cop trio sitting a few booths down.

  “Eh, it’s just the finger stuff.”

  They fell silent again.

  “So how are you doing?” Chrissy asked, a little insincerely.

  “I’m good,” Sapphire lied. She didn’t want to talk about Julia. Chrissy had never understood the bond Sapphire had with her so-called housekeeper. The last thing she wanted was to tell Chrissy everything and hear Chrissy say: “So? Get another one. You can borrow mine if it’s such a big deal.”

  “I’m hungry; you want to order some appetizers or…” Sapphire started and opened up the menu.

  “I’m not shallow,” Chrissy said, looking at Sapphire deadly serious.

  Sapphire stared at the menu. She was going for the “ignore it and it’ll go away” strategy. “Oooh, they have stuffed portobello. You like portobello, right?”

  “And yes, maybe some people would consider me slightly spoiled. But they are wrong!”

  “They say eating portobello mushroom is like eating steak. I suppose it’s about the protein.”

  The waitress came over, ready with her notepad. Chrissy turned to her and placed her empty cocktail glass on the tray. “I won’t pay for that. I didn’t like it. Make it again.”

  The waitress looked from Sapphire to Chrissy, confused. “But you…you drank it all.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t feel like getting into an argument with some little waitress today. Do you know who I am? No? I didn’t really expect someone of your standing to. Do yourself a favor and run along.”

  The waitress stared at Chrissy, trying to figure out if she was joking or not.

  “Run. Along.” Chrissy motioned the waitress away and turned back to Sapphire “And I don’t think it’s fair for you to call me spoiled. I’ve gone to sooo many charities for those starving children in…” She snapped her fingers, trying to remember.

  “Africa,” Sapphire said dryly.

  “And I really don’t think you appreciate me as a friend. I’m a very good friend, Sapphire. Who gave you that pony on your seventeenth birthday?”

  “You mean the pony I didn’t want?”

  “Exactly. I know you so well, I even knew you wanted a pony before you did.”

  “Yes. You are a very good friend, Chrissy,” Sapphire said. After the week she had, she didn’t have the energy to put any spunk into it. So the words came out like she felt them. Flat.

  Chrissy looked at Sapphire, not entirely convinced, and stirred her new drink the waitress had brought. She took a deep, dramatic sigh and made the face she always did when she thought she was saying something very serious. Sapphire had to bite her lip not to laugh.

  “I…I know, you don’t like all of…all of the stuff other people like. Like normal people. I know that sometimes you get annoyed with me. I know I’m not easy to get along with and I know you sometimes spend time with me against your will.”

  Sapphire looked at Chrissy, a bit surprised. Was it even possible that Chrissy had figured this out on her own?

  “And that’s just it. Until I met you, I never had a friend like that. Everybody has always sucked up to me because, let’s face it, I’m awesomely wealthy. But mostly people who are around me don’t want me. They want the name, the contacts, or the status.” She took a pause and for the first time in many years, Sapphire was hooked into a conversation with Chrissy.

  “With you I had to try. And I thought that if I got the one person in the world who didn’t want to be my friend to be my friend, then she would be real. She would be with me for me.”

  Chrissy looked up at Sapphire, slightly uncomfortable, and Sapphire couldn’t help but smile at her. Inside the rude, shallow, coke-sniffing, sex-crazed, billion dollar heiress was a little girl who just wanted a friend to love her for her. Sapphire scooted across the booth to the other side and hugged Chrissy, tightly.

  “I’m sorry for what I said,” Sapphire said—and meant it.

  Chrissy studied her and then nodded. “Okay,” she said solidly. “I don’t feel like stuffed portobello. Let’s get something fatty; I’m lipofreezing my left thigh tomorrow so I might as well.”

  “What about your right thigh?”

  Sapphire’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She looked at the display. Marco.

  “Hey,” she said, pleasantly surprised.

  “Hey. Is that you in there?” Marco asked.

  Sapphire looked around and saw Marco through the window standing outside across the street. She waved at him and smiled. Chrissy scooted closer to her and put her face up to the window to see who Sapphire was waving at.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You left kind of out of the blue the other night. And I didn’t want to be clingy, so I didn’t call.”

  “Yes, I had an emergency. Sorry I didn’t have time to tell you. I meant to call you back; I’ve just had a lot going on.”

  She watched Marco as he shrugged. “So, do you have any plans right now? Mind if I join you guys?” he took a step toward the bar.

  “Don’t!” Sapphire shouted before she could stop herself. She couldn’t, under any circumstances, let Chrissy and Marco meet. Sapphire Dubois and Mary Smith would definitely not mix well. “I mean…wait. I’ll come to you.” Sapphire turned to Chrissy, giving her a look of question.

  “Go. He’s pretty hot,” Chrissy said to Sapphire, dangerously close to the phone.

  “Tell her I agree,” Marco said and shot them a charming smile.

  “I’ll be right out,” Sapphire said and hung up. She gave Chrissy a quick peck on the cheek and shot out of the booth.

  Although Sapphire’s initial reason for leaving with Marc
o might have been to defuse a but-I-thought-your-name-was-Mary situation, there was also an underlying motive. Sapphire actually liked Marco; he was definitely warmer and more inviting than other men whom she thought about. Other men who happened to be virginity-stealing cops. Marco made her feel calm, wanted, and like someone else all in one.

  Sapphire turned towards the door just to be reminded of her lovely collection of cops.

  “I’ll take care of them,” Chrissy said. “I’ll create a discreet distraction. I could have been an actress if I wanted to, you know. I was Lady Macbeth in ninth grade. Standing ovation. You go get laid.”

  Sapphire waved at the cops. “Just going to the restroom,” she yelled out and pointed to the ladies’ room.

  She snuck out through the back door just as she heard Chrissy screaming not so discreetly.

  “Oh blimey hell! I’ve gone blind!” Chrissy yelled in a very poor British accent. “I can’t see!”

  * * * * *

  The view from his balcony was incredible. His apartment seemed to hover over the rest of the city. Downtown L.A. lay below them in a sea of lights, the bright stars of the night gazed down on them. Brooding gray clouds floated in the distance over the foothills. Every now and then, a bolt cracked giving them front row seats to nature’s own show. Marco handed her a glass of chilled white wine and she took a sip.

  Sapphire had gotten a quick tour of his apartment, which looked as she expected an MMA trainer’s home to look: posters of what she assumed were famous boxers and fighters; a punching bag hanging in the middle of his living room; and workout machines scattered across the otherwise neat home.

  She leaned on the railing and he stood behind her, the front of his body pressed against her back. She closed her eyes as she savored the dry taste of the wine and found herself enjoying the moment, forgetting about Julia, Shelly, and the person who had penetrated her life uninvited.

  “I have tons of clients in West Hollywood, but you’re the last person I’d expect to see in that part of town,” Marco mumbled close to her ear. “Aren’t you more of a downtown type of gal?”

  “Ah, just having a drink with a friend,” Sapphire said. “She lives in that area. We had a disagreement and we made up today.”