Piper: A Last Score Spin Off

by K. L. Shandwick

  Thomas gestured for me to sit, so I slid into the booth where the waiter tended to us in a heartbeat. “Two iced teas and would you give us five minutes to check out the menu please?” Thomas ordered before the poor guy had opened his mouth to speak. My eyes immediately connected with the waiter. I sighed. I wasn’t keen on Thomas’ tone. It had felt highly dismissive when the poor guy was doing his job.

  “Are all the men in California rude?” I asked as I struggled to keep my temper. “I mean, is it normal for people to have total disregard for others? Civility costs nothing.”

  My outburst may have appeared disproportionate but between Thomas’ attitude toward Jeff and the waiter, and Jeff’s behavior the night before, I wondered if this was normal life and perhaps I’d been overprotected during my time at home with the Barclays.

  “I prefer to catch my breath before I choose my food,” he informed me brusquely, carefully folding his cream linen jacket before placing it neatly on the seat beside him.

  Plucking the menu from the small wooden menu holder, I began to study it carefully. From the side of my eye I noted the waiter on his way back with the drinks and promised myself if Thomas even dared to make another rude comment or be snippy toward him he’d get a taste of his own curt behavior from me.

  I’d never seen him in this light before and even though I was deemed to know nothing about my craft as yet, my mom had taught me about speaking in kind and treating people with respect. Ironic since the guy she lived with never showed her an ounce of kindness in my presence.

  Placing the drink napkins down he placed our drinks and I could see he was hesitant to ask again if he could take our order. Before Thomas could blow him out again, I engaged the waiter.

  “So, I’m new here in town. If you were me what would you be ordering from the menu today?” I flashed him a warm smile and glanced over to Thomas like I was addressing them both.

  “Fresh Calamari. Personally, I could eat buckets of the stuff. It’s caught locally and out to the table in hours,” he responded knowledgably, giving me a broad smile loaded with gratitude for smoothing his path with Thomas.

  When Thomas didn’t respond, I prompted him. “Should…” I glanced at the waiter’s name, “Kyle start my order or are you ready as well? I’m starving,” I added for effect.

  “Two… I’ll have the same,” Thomas stated flatly without making eye contact with the waiter.

  As soon as our server had gone out of earshot, I tackled him again. “I don’t appreciate your attitude toward people. You are supposed to be representing me. If that’s how you conduct yourself around people I’m not that sure you’re the right person to do so. You weren’t like this at all in front of Gibson. Was that all an act for him, or do you intend to try to be more approachable?”

  At the risk of sounding pretentious, I tried to assert my position and Thomas almost cracked a smile. Then his face contorted as he struggled to hold it back. “I’m sorry. I had some news today that worried me and I’m not sure what to do with it.”

  Immediately my manner changed, and I felt empathetic and concerned for him since he was having a bad day. No one knew more than I did what it was like to worry about something and not be able to work out what to do.

  “Would talking about it help?” For a few seconds he stared me straight in the eye and said nothing. For a moment I thought he hadn’t heard me. Does he think me too young to confide in? That was a real possibility.

  No one I knew, except perhaps Gibson, understood what it was like to feel misunderstood. Maybe Thomas doesn’t regard me as being old enough to have solutions to his problem.

  My heart sank, and I wondered if anyone would ever see past my age and accept that I had been through more in my short life than most people did in a lifetime, or if I’d have to wait until I reached a certain age to have added value.

  “That would depend on whether you accepted my concerns as in your best interest,” he admitted. He began to fiddle with the salt shaker, giving it his utmost attention.

  “You’re worried about me? Who could possibly have an issue with me when I’ve only been in Santa Monica for three days? Is it Otto? Isn’t he happy with—”

  “For fuck's sake, stop,” he said, tiredly. “Breathe. Jesus, this is exactly why I was concerned about how to deal with the issue. This has nothing to do with Otto, but everything to do with your future. If you’re smart you’ll listen. If not, then we’re going to be at loggerheads for the whole time you’re down here. If you want me to treat you like an adult, then you are going to have to accept that whatever I say is in your best interests as your manager, not as a parent figure. I’m not your father.”

  “Then you’d do well to remember that. I’m not a child you have to treat to dinner to broach an issue. If something needs addressing then I’d appreciate if you’d just tell me.”

  Interrupting the conversation, Kyle pushed his way backward out of the kitchen and into the dining area, turned and walked toward us with our food. My appetite had all but gone.

  “The party last night?” he said, deadpan.

  Hiding my shock, I immediately thought I knew what had happened. “Gibson had me followed?”

  “Of course not,” he barked, giving me a pointed look as his lips pinched in frustration. “He knows nothing about this.”

  “You? You had me followed?”

  “No. Stop jumping to conclusions,” he huffed. “Listen. Why are you being so petulant? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  “No one has ever had me followed before,” I bit back, sitting back in my seat with my arms folded in defiance.

  “You have no idea how lucky you’ve been. Can you imagine how I felt waking up five hours away from here to a call informing me you showed up at Ton Mattison’s place last night with Doobie, his drug dealer?”

  My jaw almost hit the table. “I did no such thing. I was there with…” Fuck. Initially I was in denial but suddenly it all made sense. “A drug dealer?” I said in a high-pitched voice. “I was invited to a party. Jeff’s the sessional guitarist on the album and he invited me to hang out with him after the studio yesterday because I didn’t know anyone.”

  “And he took you with him to deal,” he replied. “Fortunately for you, Ronnie Silvers called to warn me. Doobie is pretty well known in celebrity circles. He’s the local dealer to the stars. His clientele are actresses, rock stars, dancers, and musicians. Jeff as you call him is known as Doobie… didn’t you hear them call him that? Ronnie told me when he realized you were with Doobie he warned him off… but that wasn’t before Doobie had offered to hook you up with him.”

  My head pounded as I absorbed the revelation and wondered how I could have been so naïve and stupid. I didn’t even challenge what he may have been doing. I definitely hadn’t been thinking straight.

  “Oh, Lord, how could I have been so stupid? I mean the place he took me to looked real fancy, and everyone looked affluent, dressed in expensive clothes or like they took great care of themselves. You know, groomed from head to toe, pearly white teeth, expensive jewelry. I feel like the biggest fool on the planet,” I admitted quietly as I hung my head in shame.

  “It’s such a clusterfuck I considered calling Gibson about this. Doobie’s way too smart for a young kid like you. He took you there with him last night because he wasn’t sure about you. Now he thinks he has something on you. The only thing that saved you was you went there under your own steam and you didn’t travel there with him. Can you imagine if you make it big and he suddenly started to tell everyone you used to run drugs with him?”

  “Please don’t tell, Gibson,” I pleaded, then a thought almost made my heart stop. “Oh. My. God, the backpack.”

  “Backpack?”

  “Yeah, he made a stop on the way to the house and put the backpack of beer in the back of my car.”

  “Fuck. Had you been stopped by the police…” Thomas’s voice trailed off. I shuddered.

  “You stay the fuck away from him outside the
studio. He’s sufficiently connected for a newbie like you not to rock the boat, but as soon as the album is complete you sever all contact.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. I did nothing wrong. I never passed drugs to anyone if there were any in that backpack.” A knot formed in my stomach. “What about the other guy in the studio? Is he a drug dealer or addict too?”

  “Who Grunt? Nope. Never done drugs, he’s just an unfortunate. The way he looks has stopped him from being who he should have been.”

  “That’s what Jeff said,” I confirmed.

  “At least he was honest about him. Grunt is a clean-living guy, but you need to know what you’re up against. You owe Ronnie Silvers a big thank you. He’s a friend of a friend like most well-connected people, but he actually had his PA track me down, and then rang me himself to warn you.”

  “Good to know he had my back,” I agreed. Another feeling of relief washed through me. Shaking my head, I cringed. “And here I was thinking I was doing great and I almost fell at the first hurdle.”

  My anxiety rose at Gibson’s likely reaction if Thomas told him what had happened to me. As early as it was into my independent living I had to accept the blame for my lack of judgment and naivety.

  “Please don’t tell Gibson and Chloe,” I urged, “They have enough to worry about.” When I heard myself plead, it reinforced that even though I was an adult I had people who cared for me and I knew how worried they would be if anything happened to me.

  “I work for you, not Gibson,” he stated flatly, “But I really need you to get your shit together and stay clear of Doobie, you got me?”

  “Yeah, absolutely. I had no idea he was like that he looks so…”

  “That’s why he’s successful,” he said anticipating what I was going to say next. “He looks like a football jock, no one would ever tag him as a dealer.”

  My eyes widened in surprise because Thomas saw the same thing as I did about him, “Exactly! That’s how I saw him.”

  “All right. Now here’s the part you’re not gonna like but I want you to agree to this. I’m thinking of getting you a minder.”

  “The fuck you’re not.” My response was instantaneous.

  “Yep, according to Ronnie, Jeff is a master corrupter. He’s already had two girls arrested as dealers in the past eighteen months by slipping his blow in their purses when there have been shakedowns at parties, and he’s walked away as clean as a whistle.”

  “Does Otto know the shit Jeff pulls?” I asked, realizing Jeff would do whatever was necessary to protect himself.

  “He’s aware and Doobie’s been warned never to bring anything to the studio. Fortunately for Otto he’s got some heavy hitting contacts so that keeps Doobie contained just enough to stop him from pissing where he works.”

  When I thought back to the party, none of those other girls there had much on in the way of clothing and none had a purse and I was pretty much the only female that had one on me.

  I couldn’t bear to think about what could have happened if the cops had been called to that noisy party or if they had raided it. My guess is Jeff may have tried to offload what he had into my purse.

  After Thomas had cleared the air with me he was much more relaxed, but the incident lingered in my mind and sat heavily in my stomach. I was glad when he left our waiter $200 in $50 bills and apologized for being curt.

  As he drove me back to my car, he explained he was putting someone on call for any issues that arose, a minder of sorts—not to watch over me, but someone to call if I found myself in a difficult situation who would come to my assistance. He also made me promise never to take Jeff to my apartment. Like I’d have done that anyway after what I had learned.

  Chapter Six

  After I had said goodnight to Thomas and climbed behind the wheel of my own car, I drove home but my concentration was poor as my mind wandered back to the interactions at the party.

  Jeff being called Doobie should have been a big ‘tell’ for me. If only I had known what the slang nickname meant, and I shuddered at the thought he may well have used me as his mule to take the drugs to the party.

  I’d never know for sure if that was the case because it never occurred to me to look in the backpack, but it taught me I’d never take responsibility for someone else’s effects again unless it was someone I trusted like Gibson or Chloe.

  By the time I arrived home, I felt far less confident about taking care of myself. I wondered if Gibson had been right about me needing his support. I had behaved so stubbornly about being independent and it had almost cost me my reputation and personal safety, not to mention the risk of a criminal record.

  In a couple of days, I had gone from being thankful for my own space to feeling desperately lonely because the only person I could talk to about what had happened was Thomas. Since leaving high school in Colorado I’d had no one around to confide in.

  Truth was, I had only attended high school in Colorado for the last few months due to the timing of seeking sanctuary out of state, at Dignity. I had made a few close friends but no one that I’d have confided in.

  My thoughts turned to Simon, and I figured he’d keep anything I told him in confidence and then I wondered how he’d feel if I contacted him. Shaking that possibility off I resolved to guard myself more closely in future.

  As soon as I got home, I headed for the shower and afterward spread a huge white bath sheet over the couch. Spreading my naked body out I lay buck naked and dripping wet and willed the rapidly rotating ceiling fan to dry me out and cool me down.

  My idea had worked and as I gradually drifted off to sleep my cell buzzed interrupting my clearing mind. Reaching across, I swiped my phone off my coffee table and recognized Simon’s number.

  When I saw Simon’s name, it had felt like fate or telepathy or some other strange force that he should have called me right then and my heart rate doubled at the thought of him contacting me.

  The day before I left he had waited until Gibson was busy and grabbed my phone. Silently he punched his number in, dropped my cell back in my lap and winked.

  It was later I realized he had called his own number from my phone. Now I realized he had done that to save my number instead of asking me for it.

  “Hey, Princess, how’s it going?”

  “All right,” I replied, sounding less enthusiastic than I had aimed for.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “It’s… nothing,” I replied hesitating. “I’m fine, just tired,” I added quickly in my attempt to cover up my true thoughts.

  “Nope, I know you better than that, Princess. What’s the deal?”

  “First, can you drop the princess, it makes me feel like I’m five years old?”

  He chuckled. “But you are a princess, baby,” he coaxed.

  “Isn’t that what you call your groupies when you can’t remember their names?”

  “Never, Princess. Personally, I use sugar,” he informed me without a hint of shame and chuckled again.

  “Ew.” My reaction was immediate, “So do they call you Daddy?”

  Simon cracked up laughing, “Ouch, and there she is my smart-mouthed little princess,” he replied, playfully.

  “I’m your little princess?” I sighed, “See what I mean? You make me sound like I’m five… eight at the most,” I amended.

  “No, you’re my beautiful young adult princess,” he told me.

  “Now you just sound creepy,” I chuckled.

  “Not creepy just enthralled by you, honey.”

  My heart flipped over in my chest. Did he just flirt with me? “This conversation is embarrassing; did you want something?”

  “Depends what you’re offering.”

  I sat naked on my couch blinking. OMG, he is flirting with me.

  I wouldn’t know where to start to offer a man like you.

  “Let’s start again. You called me remember?”

  “I did,” he confirmed decisively.

  When he p
aused and said nothing else I thought the line had dropped. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Princess,” he replied, taking me literally and talking as if we’d just connected our call. I began giggling because it felt like a stupid conversation.

  “Did you want something, Simon?” I asked again even though I was enjoying his playful side.

  “I do. You,” he replied, quickly. My heart stuttered, and I was sure I’d misheard him. I shook my head.

  “What do you want with me?” I dared to ask as I lay naked on my couch smiling like a deranged chimpanzee.

  “Tomorrow’s the start of the weekend. Got any plans?” My heart pounded so hard the vein in my neck popped and my lips tingled at the possibilities his question held for me.

  “Nothing yet, I’ve been here less than a week remember?”

  “Exactly, and you know I live just up the coast from you? Want to come hang out with me?” His question almost made my tongue fall out of my mouth. Initially, I was flattered until I thought he was offering to spend time with me out of some sense of duty.

  “Thanks, but I don’t need a babysitter, Simon,” I chided

  “Well glad we cleared that up because I’d be shit at that job.”

  “Did Gibson put you up to this? Chloe? Thomas?” My mind raced as I began to think someone had asked him to keep an eye on me, or worse if Thomas had told him what had happened and Simon himself felt obliged to check up on me out of loyalty toward Gibson. I sighed, “I don’t understand why you’d want to waste your time with me.”

  “Spending time with you could never be wasted. You’re a very sweet, cool girl, Piper. If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have asked. What do you say?”

  A buzz of electricity ran through me at the thought of spending time with him on my own. What do I say? Seriously? Yes, Please? “What did you have in mind?” I asked my voice sounding even and unfazed.

  “Nothing fancy. Good food, chilling out with a few glasses of wine? I could send a car for you to come hang out at my beach house.”