Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  And after my name became recognizable, after countless press junkets and talk shows, I met somebody special. Or so I thought. It turned out he only wanted to piggyback on my name. He wanted to be seen with me. He had a publicist, too, of course. A publicist who thought it would be a good career move to hook up with Hollywood’s newest darling.

  I just wished he would’ve told me about his plans instead of letting me think it was real. Hell, I might’ve gone along with it. I liked being with him, really and truly. Not just sleeping with him. We used to have a lot of fun together.

  I used to have big dreams, until I found out how much of the Hollywood thing was a lie. It was all illusion from Day One. It made me laugh when I heard people refer to the good old days and how much more glamorous and sweet and honest things had been back then. They didn’t understand the way the studios had controlled everything—every image, every relationship, even to the point of arranging marriages between stars who’d made the mistake of getting caught in gay or lesbian affairs. Anything to protect the studio. Anything to keep making them money. Gee, who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?

  But I still loved it. I loved feeling like the people watching my movies were being entertained, at least. Moved, at most. I’d loved movies my entire life. They were an escape from a depressing, go-nowhere life. Maybe I was giving that to somebody else. Maybe somebody else found their life a little more bearable thanks to me.

  Nothing would seem worthwhile if not.

  I sighed, and the sound caused Spencer to stir. His arm tightened around me. I squeezed my eyes shut against the instant relief that pressure gave me. I didn’t want it to feel so good. I wanted it to be terrible, so I’d never want to feel it again.

  “You okay?” he whispered. His breath was warm and sweet against my neck. I remembered how it felt when he kissed me everywhere, the way he knew just how to use his mouth and tongue on me. I could never feel that again if I knew what was good for me. I could never indulge myself in him again.

  “I was just thinking about bad choices,” I whispered in reply.

  “Like me?”

  My eyes flew open. “What?”

  “You think I’m a bad choice. I get it. I’ll go.” His arm was gone just like that, and the mattress shifted as he got up.

  I rolled over, panicking a little. “I didn’t mean you.”

  “Sure, you did.”

  “I meant…everything.”

  It was enough to get him to stop, at least. He had just bent down to pull his pants back on. “What’s everything?” He stood, hands on hips. He was so gorgeous, with the body of a Greek god. I could barely keep my eyes off him long enough to think straight.

  “Everything. My entire life. I was just lying here thinking about things, you know? And I wonder sometimes if it’s worth it. Like, if I were a teacher or a nurse, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d be just another person. Nobody would care.”

  “You wouldn’t be in this fantastic apartment,” he said in a tight voice.

  “I don’t care about the apartment. Not really. I mean, is it awesome? Yeah. But so what?” I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “If I could just have a normal life, it would be all right.”

  “So quit.” He sat on the bed, still naked. “Just quit. It’s not the end of the world. I mean, it’s your life. But you can quit any time.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “So you say.” He snickered. “You know, for somebody who says they want a normal life, you seem pretty against living one. You have plenty of money, right?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know exactly how much money I have. I guess I have enough. I was never very good with numbers, and I wasn’t exactly raised with money. I don’t know anything about it.”

  “I still say quit. Just let it go. There’s more to life.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like at all. You could walk away from what you did—your old job—and that was that.”

  When his face fell, I knew I said the wrong thing. The very wrong thing. What a stupid thing to say. I would never forget the way it sounded when he screamed. What did a person have to see to scream like that?

  He stood without another word and pulled his pajama pants on, then left the room. I was sure he’d slam the door. He didn’t. I guessed he didn’t think it was worth slamming.

  ***

  “How are you feeling, darling?” Brian swooped into the office, all concern and affection. In his pink polo and argyle sweater, he would’ve looked a lot more at home on a golf course than in a wood-paneled home office in the middle of Manhattan.

  “Fine, fine.” I brushed him away when he practically mauled me.

  “Why are you being so nasty?” he asked, offended.

  “I’m not being nasty. You know I can’t stand it when you paw all over me like that.” I wrapped my arms around myself, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “I’m sorry if being concerned and wanting to show you a little affection and comfort is your idea of pawing you, darling.”

  “And what’s with this ‘darling’ bullshit?” I asked. “I mean, really. Since when?”

  “Since somebody tried to kill you, Charlotte.” He sat across from the desk, where I was sitting behind an open laptop. “By the way, where’s our Janine?”

  “Uh, our Janine is at home. I gave her the day off. She’s all freaked out over what happened.”

  “Aren’t we all?” He tilted his head to the side. “But nobody can give you a day off, sweetheart. I’m sorry it’s like this.”

  “Yeah, you’re just a big old mind reader,” I muttered. I didn’t want to hate him just then, since he was one of the few people in the world I believed were on my side, but he knew just how to rub me the wrong way and was pulling every trick in the book just then.

  “Where’s Tarzan?” he asked, looking around. I could hear all the dislike for Spencer in his voice.

  “He’s around here somewhere. He has to take care of some work stuff today, so he’ll have somebody here in his place during that time.”

  “Ooh, good. I don’t like him.”

  “Wow, because that matters,” I smirked. “He’s not here to take care of you. He’s here for me.”

  “Excuse me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mean to insult your boyfriend.”

  “Be a little more immature,” I said. “Please.”

  “Fine. I’ll change the subject.” He looked around. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

  I turned my attention to the laptop screen. “Oh. I was looking through my portfolio.”

  A pause. “Your portfolio? Since when?”

  “Since today.” Since Spencer had made me wonder about my money. I couldn’t stop thinking about his comment about it. If I wanted to quit my job, would I have enough money to live on? I should have—I’d pulled down ten million for my last movie alone. That was more than most people made in their entire lives. There was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to make a life for myself if I wanted to. Only I couldn’t make heads or tails of anything in front of me.

  “Don’t you have people for that?” he asked with a laugh.

  “You know I do. Of course, I do. But it’s Saturday and I didn’t think anybody would be in the office if I called.”

  “What’s the urgency?”

  “I just wanted to know how I was doing, was all. Is that a crime?”

  “Are you planning on making a big purchase sometime soon?”

  I shrugged, tapping my fingers on the desk. “If I did want to, if would be my business, wouldn’t it?”

  “I just think you need to pay attention to what’s happening to you right now, is all. You shouldn’t be spending all this time worrying about things like your portfolio.” His expression softened. “You shouldn’t have to worry about anything, ever.”

  I felt like a jerk for being nasty when he said things like that. “Thanks, but I don’t know how to stop worrying. There’s a
lot going on, in case you missed it.”

  “I didn’t miss anything. And frankly, I wish that hulking bodyguard of yours would have told me where he was taking you yesterday. I would’ve gone to the hospital with you. I was worried sick.”

  “Thanks. I wish I could tell you not to worry.”

  He chuckled. “That’s impossible. You know how much I love you.”

  I didn’t know any such thing, frankly. I had no idea when he decided he loved me. I wondered if it were really true. Only one way to find out.

  “I think I want to quit,” I confided.

  “You what?” he hissed.

  “Quit. I think I want to quit.”

  “Quit what? The movie? I mean, you have a contract.”

  “Not just the movie. Every movie, ever. I think I want to quit the business.”

  He stared at me for a moment, open-mouthed. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

  “No. I’ve never been more serious.” I searched his face for some spark of caring, some clue that he gave a damn. “I notice that you haven’t asked me why.”

  “I don’t have to ask why,” he said with a slight sneer. “I mean, it’s obvious you’re upset about what’s happening with this sick person who’s stalking you. I would want to stick my head in the sand, too.”

  “I’m not talking about sticking my head in the sand,” I insisted. “I’m talking about taking control of my life, for God’s sake. What’s so bad about that?”

  “It’s just emotions,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “You’ll get over it once this all blows over and Superman saves the day.”

  “His name is Spencer, and he’s not doing the investigation. It’s not up to him whether or not the case is solved and what the outcome is.”

  “Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’ll get over it. It’ll be all right. You’ll go on, you’ll keep working, it’ll be great. We’ll get the hell out of this place and back to where things make sense.”

  I chuckled. “Things make sense in California? Are you serious?”

  “A lot more sense than they make out here, for God’s sake. A week at the spa, maybe two, some serious shopping—”

  “Enough!” I shouted, slamming my hands down on the surface of the desk to cut him off. “I’m through with this discussion. Don’t tell me what I should do and what would be best for my life. I know what I want, damn it. And spare me your encouragement, because if you think I think you care about anything other than the money I pay you, you’re delusional.”

  He took a deep breath, then blew it out with a rueful grin. “Fine. I’ll go be delusional elsewhere. Remind me to stop trying to come to your rescue when crazy shit happens to you, all right?” He stormed out of the office, and I followed him to make sure he left and wasn’t only throwing a little fit. I watched as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

  Spencer caught my eye, stepping out of the kitchen with a knowing look. I wished I could slap it off his face.

  Chapter Twelve – Spencer

  “We got information on what was in that bottled water.”

  “Talk to me.” I stepped out onto the balcony, glancing inside to be sure she wasn’t listening in. She was like a ghost sometimes, the way she could sneak around without me hearing her. And she’d already caught on that I’d overheard her little talk with Brian. Who could miss it? So she’d be in a shit mood. The last thing I needed was to give her fresh ammo.

  “Palcohol,” Ricardo said.

  “Excuse me?” I’d expected a little more than that.

  “Palcohol. Powdered alcohol. It’s easily acquired online. Not as easy as it used to be, but if you know where to look, you can find it.”

  “Tasteless? Odorless?”

  “Sure. Kids were using it all the time to get wasted without their parents knowing about it. They’d mix it into their juice or even water, whatever. Only it’s easy to drink too much. Way too easy. It takes almost nothing, really.”

  “Shit. So that’s why she never tasted it. Why we couldn’t smell it.”

  “You got it. We’re running a search on all orders in the last year.”

  “A big order?”

  “Doesn’t have to be,” he replied. “Like I said, it takes almost nothing. I don’t think they were trying to kill her with the Palcohol—it would’ve been so easy, after all. They only gave her enough to get her drunk, which tells me they also knew what they were doing.”

  “Trying to discredit her?” I muttered, shaking my head. I couldn’t make sense of it.

  “They want to torture her first,” he said. “They want her to suffer. Hell, they might not even have wanted to finish the job that day in the trailer. Who knows?”

  “Sicko.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered. “Moving on, out of ten bottles in the trailer, eight of them had the Palcohol.”

  “And you’re really looking through a year’s worth of orders?” It would take forever. We didn’t have a lot of time to waste. I couldn’t lock her away in her apartment for the rest of her life.

  “Yeah, we’re going that far back. It’ll take some time to sift through—we’ll start with the most recent orders and work backward.”

  “Okay. I’ll let her know.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “How do you think? She’s a mess, making sure everybody hates her so they won’t pity her.”

  “She’s lucky she has somebody like you with her right now,” Ricardo said. “You’re an asshole, so you know how it feels.”

  “Oh, thanks,” I grinned. “Now I know how you really feel about me.”

  “I thought it was about time after all these years,” he chuckled. “So I’ll get back to you after I find out more. In the meantime, try not to let her eat you alive.”

  “Will do.” I went back inside, closing the doors behind me against the cold air. Charlotte was still in the bedroom, getting dressed. I didn’t love the idea of going in to talk about Ricardo’s news, but she deserved to know.

  “Hey.” I leaned in the doorway with my arms crossed.

  She had her back to me, standing in front of the open closet doors. “Hey yourself.” She bent to slide panties up over her ass. I clenched my teeth together to hold back the groan I could hardly fight back. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. She wanted me to react. And I was about five seconds away from throwing her down on the bed and reacting over and over again.

  Instead, I said, “Ricardo knows what happened—what you were given, I mean.”

  “Oh?” She turned, wearing on the panties. Damn, she didn’t even look human. She was perfect. Her full tits just sat there on her chest, begging for me to touch and lick and play with them. I wanted to press them together and fuck them.

  “Yeah,” I said, forcing myself to look at her eyes and not the rest of her. That conceited little smirk on her face. It reminded me of what I didn’t like about her in the first place and did wonders for the swelling below my belt.

  “And? What did he find?”

  “Powdered alcohol. It was in eight of the ten bottles in your trailer.”

  Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned. “Powdered alcohol?”

  “Yeah. I can put you in touch with Ricardo if you want the whole history of it.”

  “I don’t need it. I only need to know how it made me feel, and I already know that.”

  “Here’s a question. Didn’t the fact that the bottles were open raise a red flag?”

  “No.”

  “Why no?”

  “I don’t like opening them myself.” She shrugged, then turned back to the closet to continue getting dressed.

  “You lazy brat.”

  She laughed. “Some would say smart.”

  “Smart?”

  “Yeah, smart. I figured out a long time ago that I don’t have to do the things I don’t like doing.” She slid a dress over her head, putting her arms through the sleeves. “Like cleaning my apartment. I hate cleaning, and I suck at it. So I hired somebody
to do it for me.”

  I thought about it. “You’re right. You don’t do anything for yourself. God, you don’t even open your fucking water bottles.” I laughed as I walked away. I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t look at her.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Yes. I’m laughing at you.” I heard her feet slapping against the wood floors as she stormed after me.

  “Nobody laughs at me!” She nearly screamed it.

  “Ouch. I guess I hit a sore spot, huh?” I called it out over my shoulder and loved the way she kept following me. She wasn’t the only person who knew how to play games. It was almost too easy to get her on the hook.

  “Damn you!” I heard a crash and turned to find her standing in the middle of the hall, a shattered crystal vase on the floor all around her. She was frozen in place, eyes wide.

  “What did you do?”

  “I—I lost my temper…” And she’d pushed over the pillar thing that had been supporting the vase until about ten seconds earlier.

  “Obviously. Well, it’s not my vase. I hated looking at that thing, anyway.”

  “It was beautiful,” she said.

  “And you broke it. That’s a shame.”

  She lifted one foot and moved like she was about to take a step forward. I held up my hands. “Stop!”

  “Don’t tell me to stop.”

  “You’re going to cut your feet to ribbons, for Christ’s sake. Unless you don’t care about being able to walk.”

  She bit her lip, looking around. I sighed. “A shame you don’t have somebody to clean up the things you break when you throw a tantrum.”

  “You want me to kill you, don’t you? That’s what you want me to do.”

  “How can you kill me if you can’t take a step?” I asked. “You’ll stand there forever. I hope you like that spot.”

  “Fine.” She took a step. I winced. She gasped, pulling her foot back.

  “You can’t see the shards,” I said, shaking my head. “They blend in with the floor. Here.” I cleared a path for myself as best I could, sliding my shoes along the floor.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said, taking a step back.