“So, what are you? You don’t look like a maid,” Gabriella asked.
“I’m supposed to be his PA.”
“Well welcome to Cyranose. This is where the help and the non-stuffy PAs hang out and bitch about their employers.” They both giggled.
I liked the sound of that, because I definitely needed to bitch right now.
“You look like you’re about to blow up,” Hilda offered. “This is a safe place where you can say anything and it stays here. Like Vegas. What happens here really does stay here. So, don’t worry about anyone finding out.”
“That’s good to know. For what little time I hope to be here.”
“Was it that bad?”
“This morning, just as the Mancini Machine was throwing me out of his house, a supersized rat ran over my foot and I fainted.”
They both burst out laughing.
“A rat?” Gabriella asked.
I nodded. “I hate rats.”
“We don’t have rats, but there’s secrets and all sorts that I have to balance. I’m the head maid at the Hamptons, and I’m grateful for every day I survive in that place.”
“I’m trying to secure a modeling contract. Until then I’m a maid, too, who’s looking for work,” Hilda added with a sigh. “My employer’s husband died.”
“Didn’t she still need you?”
“Nope, she became a he and ran off with the next door neighbor’s daughter.”
I widened my eyes. “What!”
Hilda smiled. “Oh yes, chica, there’s a lot of that that goes on here.”
“That’s the mild stuff, too,” Gabriella cut in.
“Mild?” I raised my brows.
They both nodded and exchanged secret smiles.
“Mild indeed. The biggest scandal now is that we think Mrs. Campbell is planning to kill husband number fifteen so she can get her hands on husband sixteen and keep husband fifteen’s fortune. There’s no way all her fourteen husbands could have mysteriously died of a heart attack. Particularly because they were all under the age of forty. She’s sixty-five.”
“Really?” I rested my elbows on the table and leaned forward with keen interest as they nodded.
“While we wait for that story to unfold, we’re casting bets on how soon Mr. Fox will get caught for embezzling money from the children’s hospice, to pay for his wife’s new boobs.”
I was laughing now.
“So, what else did Josh Mancini do?” Gabriella asked. “We understand the rats, but something else must have turned you away.”
I reached into my pocket and handed her the list Josh wrote. Hilda moved over so she could read too. They started to laugh again and I sighed.
It was funny if you were on the outside looking in.
“There’s no way he was being serious,” Hilda stated, shaking her head.
“Yes, he was.” I saw that he was absolutely serious.
“Oh my God. Dias Miós, everything on here is ridiculous. I’m guessing his plastic friends require this.”
“Plastic friends?” I giggled.
“Yes, the two skanks he’s always with.”
That was another story entirely. “They’re practically glued to him,” I stated.
“We’ve seen them.”
“Do you live nearby?”
I shook her head. “Downtown L.A.”
“Chica,” Gabriella grimaced. “That’s a bit rough for a girl like you. How long have you lived there?”
“Just the last week and two days. I used to live in New York, but I’m from Atlanta. I’m a fashion designer.”
They both looked interested to hear that, and as I continued talking their interest grew. I told them about my application to Dior and all that I’d done so far. That led to explaining about mom and why I was here.
We talked for hours and even had dinner. I got to know a lot about them and found their acquaintance quite refreshing. I learned that Gabriella was from Colombia and Hilda from Puerto Rico. They’d come to the States when they were young but tried to go back to visit their families every year. Since I would give anything to go to either of those two amazing countries I enjoyed hearing about the wondrous things you could see there.
They talked until it got dark and agreed to meet for lunch the next day if I was still here. They made me feel better and I thought whether I was still working for Josh or not I’d come for the lunch invite.
As I made my way back to my dank apartment I checked my messages to see if the consultant had gotten back to me. He did, stating that he’d call me tomorrow morning after his morning clinic, which finished at eleven.
Fingers crossed I could find a way out of this mess and still fix things. I wondered how mad Josh was when I didn’t come back with his stupid items. I didn’t care. If I didn’t see him again it would be the best thing that ever happened to me .
And those women that hung with him. Gabriella told me that he paid for the brunette to get implants and the other one, Hilda called the dumb one, had collagen fillers.
It was all so extravagant.
Chapter 6
Josh
* * *
I strayed into one of those dreams again.
It always happened in the space between asleep and awake where my mind would take over and drift to happier thoughts. That was where I saw them. This was where Mom and Clarissa existed for me. Here they were alive and they still loved me.
I had them in my life again and I never wanted to wake up…
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Mom said, leaning into my shoulder as we sat side by side in the grand theatre. Dad sat next to her and looked at Clarissa with the deepest pride.
I nodded, not wanting to take my eyes off Clarissa’s performance. Not even for one second. Amazing was too meager a word to describe her as I watched her glide across the stage as Odette, the Swan Princess. She was the star of the show, the prima ballerina, and a star she was indeed. I was used to her giving her best, but when she did performances like this it was more than her best that came out. She danced with soul and talent comparable to an angel.
I didn’t even lie like I used to anymore when I had to explain to my friends that I was going to the ballet. I was so proud of her that I just told them straight that that was where I would be.
I watched her, getting absorbed in the music, the mood, the atmosphere. Like always, when the performance ended my skin tingled. My parents were crying and stood up to cheer with everyone else. The cheers and applause were deafening, euphoric and joyous. I stood too. Clarissa and the cast truly deserved the grand-standing ovation. I’d never experienced the blissful exhilaration I felt anywhere besides here.
I had flowers for her. She loved oriental lilies, pink oriental lilies. They were her favorites.
I looked at my mother as she reached out to cup my face with one hand. Her smile proud and brimming with love. While I had my father’s strong Italian features, Clarissa looked exactly like Mom. Same jet black hair that hung in soft waves, same mole on the left cheek. Same hazel-colored eyes.
I leaned forward to hug Mom, anticipating the warmth I’d feel when I touched her, but in that second everything changed. It was like my body shifted out of time and instead of being at the theatre I was at the gravesite, in the cemetery in California.
I recognized this.
This part wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. This was the memory of my mother and sister’s funeral.
Dad was on his knees crying, completely inconsolable while my uncle tried to comfort me. I stood over by Clarissa’s coffin, staring at her cold dead body. The oriental lilies in my hand hung by my side as I tried to work out what had happened and if this was real. She still looked so beautiful.
In this part of this whatever it was that was a dream, my mind ran wild and made me visualize the accident. The head-on collision that claimed their lives.
Then screaming…
I jumped up. Cold sweat ran down my face and neck. My back was wet with it as well.
&n
bsp; My heart was pounding so much I had to put my hand at my chest and take several deep breaths until I calmed. I looked around my room and felt relieved that Allegra and Cindy weren’t there. I wanted to be alone, to put a rein on my damaged mind and painful memories.
My dreams were getting worse and taking on an eerie edge that pulled me into dark memories that weakened me. Perhaps it was the effects of having too much alcohol.
This wasn’t getting any easier, and I was growing weary of waking up and feeling like this. This guilty self-reproach that reminded me that it was my fault why Mom and Clarissa were dead.
Last year this time they were alive. They were both alive and living their lives. I’d gotten all worked up because Pete, Clarissa’s longtime boyfriend, had proposed to her. She was going to accept because she was head over heels in love with him. That was what she’d told me. In those exact words.
I acted all high and mighty with poor Pete, calling in my big brother cards, giving the poor guy a full-on interview before I would give my blessing. Mom and Dad told me off, chastising me for being such a jerk. Mom said I should take a leaf from Clarissa‘s book and tame my wild ways. It was a running family argument for weeks.
Mom was a charity worker who was always doing some service project at every chance she got. She came from a poor family and had a difficult upbringing so that was her way of helping people. She always told me her stories and called meeting my father her happily ever after. I used to laugh at her because people didn’t speak like that in real life, and I thought my mother lived in a world of her own. She and Clarissa both did.
The week before the first game they went to help out at a soup kitchen event in Missouri. To catch the game they were supposed to leave the night before but the storms made it dangerous to travel. Me with my arrogance, selfishness, and ignorance didn’t think that anything could happen to them. After all, why would God let something happen to two of his angels? Especially if they were doing charity work. So when I spoke to Mom I practically demanded that they come to the game.
“We’re opening up the season, Mom, it’s not exactly little league. Just drive carefully.” That was what I said. That was what I had said to her.
I didn’t stop and think that this was a woman who’d gone to every single game I’d ever played. Right from my first when I was five and could hardly throw a ball, to the Super Bowl that closed off the season before. She’d been there, and if she thought there was a chance she’d miss one I should have understood. It should have been no problem whatsoever.
But no, I wouldn’t hear of it. I was the Mancini Machine and it was a must to have my whole family there. The press would be there taking pictures and I wanted them all there so I would look good.
When I didn’t see them at half time I had the audacity to be angry. I remembered thinking this was the game of my life and they were missing it. How dare they miss it?
And as I tackled the defense for the Bears and shot the ball to Gage, I knew we’d win hands down. Nobody was faster than Gage.
As the crowd cheered when he scored the winning touchdown, I looked to where Dad had been sitting and saw the empty seats. It was only then that I realized something must have been wrong. Only then.
I couldn’t even cheer with my team. I walked off the field to find my father sobbing with devastation and his face grief stricken. The poor man couldn’t even talk. It was Zelda that had to break the news of what happened to me. I could still hear her voice now. The sadness in the tone and the tears that filled her eyes. I could still hear my heart break and shatter. The news ripped away my soul and everything strong that was in me. It ripped my world from under my feet and I hadn’t been able to function since.
The doorbell rang, bringing me out of my memories. I wondered who that was. I wasn’t in the mood for visitors and actually noticed that my little PA hadn’t bothered to come back yesterday. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly twelve. She’d been coming in at nine and I hadn’t heard her, so I was guessing this meant she’d quit.
Good. She didn’t need to be here, I didn’t need her, and now I could tell Zelda that I wanted to do things my way.
The bell rang again, but this time with insistence. I got up to answer it because there was only one person who rang the bell like that.
Corey stood on the porch with his hands in his pockets and a silly lopsided grin on his face.
“Hey.” I offered a small smile.
“Hey yourself.”
I stepped aside so Corey could come in, then I closed the door.
“Is Allegra and friend here?” Corey asked.
“Nope.”
“Good.” He actually sighed with relief.
We went into the living room and sat down. I laid back on the larger sofa and placed my hands behind my head. Corey always came by at some point in the week for a pep talk, I just hadn’t expected him so soon as I’d only seen him on Monday. I rolled my head to the side, gearing up to hear it.
Corey sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
“Okay talk.”
“You’re sober,” Corey noted.
“Yes, until you leave.”
“Josh…” Here we go. “You can’t continue like this, man.”
Yup. That was how our conversation always began. Every single week.
“I’m fine.” I grabbed a stress ball and started tossing it up and down.
“You aren’t fine. You have problems and one day soon it’s going to catch up with you.”
“I don’t care.”
“But you do.”
“Why do I care, Corey? Tell me what is there to care about?”
Corey frowned. “Josh, you’re acting like you don’t have friends or family.”
“I don’t have a family. They’re dead.”
“You have a father, and he’s done nothing wrong.”
As far as I was concerned everyone was dead. I couldn’t face Dad. Every time the thought crossed my mind I remembered how inconsolable Dad was as he cried by the gravesite.
I could never see him again. Not ever.
“I can’t see him, okay.”
“No, it isn’t okay. You’re living on drink and women.” He lowered his brows and grimaced.
I looked over at him and smiled. “What’s wrong with that?”
“A drink here and there and a good woman is no problem.”
“What the hell do you mean by a good woman? They’re all good.” That philosophy was one I always had. I knew what Corey meant, but I loved women too much to be with just one. I didn’t understand why anyone would do that and preferred the freedom to be with anyone I chose, one or two at a time.
“Josh, things have to change.” Corey glossed over the question because he knew the debate that would follow.
“Things are fine the way they are.”
“Do you want to play football again, Josh?”
That was the question of the hour, of the day, of my life right now. Hadn’t I always wanted to play football? I dropped the stress ball and watched it roll across the wooden floor.
“Josh.” Corey said my name more insistently.
I looked up at him at the same time that I heard the door open.
Again, that could only be one person. Only one person had the keys to my house. My blonde-haired and green-eyed PA walked in carrying a big bag. She came into the room, cut a quick glance at Corey, then stood in front of me eyeing me with some serious daggers.
“Here is your order, sir.” She reached into the bag and, to my surprise, pulled out all the condoms that were attached together and dropped them into my lap. There were at least a hundred. One hundred extra-small condoms. I didn’t even know they made them that small.
Then she took out a bottle of hot sauce and said, “Lubricant,” and followed it up with a multipack of Rainbow Bright root beer.
I opened his mouth to say something, but she stormed out of the room and made her way to the office. Corey burst out laughing, and laughe
d even harder when he saw everything properly. The extra-small condoms, the hot sauce, and the damn kids drink.
“Fuck!” I cursed.
“Oh Lord. Who was that?” Corey asked, his Texan accent became more pronounced when he got excited.
“This isn’t funny, Corey. Why are you even laughing? This is what Zelda sent me.”
“That’s your new PA?”
I rolled his eyes. “Looks that way.” So she was back.
“She’s hot.”
“I noticed. It’s a trick of that damn Zelda. She thinks if I have a beautiful PA it’ll make me do what she wants.”
“Is it working?”
I gave Corey an askance look. “Working? Please.”
“You should give her a chance.” The seriousness returned to Corey’s face. I pushed the condoms off me and sat up properly.
“A chance for what? I can manage to do what I need myself.”
Corey shook his head. “No, none of us can do everything ourselves. That’s why we each have PAs, and you need yours more than the rest of us. You should be grateful that you got the beautiful one.”
I sighed with frustration. “I don’t need anybody. I just…” I looked away and gazed at the display of seashells over in the corner on the shelf. Clarissa gave him those when she was about five. I’d taken care of them over the years and planned to have one of them polished and made into a necklace for her. I’d never get the chance to now.
“Josh.” Corey’s voice returned his focus to him. “This is me. I’m you’re oldest friend. We grew up together, bro, and we’ve been through life together. Talk to me.”
I didn’t know if I could talk to anyone. I didn’t know if it was wise to start.
“I don’t know if I can play football anymore,” I told him, and just saying the words pained me to my soul. Surely if it felt that bad, it meant not playing wasn’t the answer either.
“Is that what you want? To not play anymore?” Concern filled Corey’s eyes.
“No.” That was the truth. “I just don’t know if I can. It’s hard to go back out there knowing that…” I closed his eyes and sighed.
Play of Love: The Gladiator Players Box Set Page 5