Might know. Piper. Kill us.
Not quite new information, but at least it confirmed my assumption. The Viv3000 account was set up about the blind and it was in fact a secret someone would kill—and had killed—to keep.
I finally responded with fingers that still reeked of acetone. You’re right. Might be good to take precautions. I can make sure a copy of the video gets to the police.
The response was instantaneous. Thought the DVD was copy protected. You made copies?
Fudge. My response was just as quick. It is. Meant my copy.
Viv wrote back right away. And much like dino porn, it wasn’t anything I wanted to read. Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all.
I fired off a quick apology. Sorry if I made you think I made copies. I didn’t.
I hit refresh a kajillion times. Nothing from Viv.
The only thing stopping an impending sense of doom was that Aubrey was still on the way. I called him. He picked up immediately. “I just arrived, Ms. Anderson. No one is in here.”
We’d lost Viv.
Fudge.
Two days later and my apology was right where I’d left it. Viv3000 hadn’t even logged in to the email account. I kept checking, as if willing them to do so. Emme said there was no way to track a person’s IP unless they log in. I just hoped they responded and when they did, it’d be from a private IP address.
Day One wasn’t so bad. I knew the day would creep by if I just sat around alone waiting for Viv to write back. Instead, I decided to pass the time by bugging Aubrey. I was at his house as soon as rush hour let me get there.
He was landscaping. I decided to supervise. “Any luck with Junior’s friends?”
He shook his head. “They relayed to me that Mr. Reid was extremely vocal about coming into some money. However, he did not share who gave him said funds and they did not ask. The police have his cell phone but Ms. Ruth is getting me her grandson’s latest bill.”
The bill was also online. Emme could help with that but I didn’t dare suggest it. Instead, I decided to whine. “I keep thinking how I messed up. Again. Viv will respond, right?”
“It has only been a day, Ms. Anderson. You need to give it time.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“That is a ‘you need to give it time.’ If they respond, that is great. If not, we will figure out another way to find them.”
Hearing him use the word “we” was instantly reassuring. I jumped up. “I’m gonna get a water. Want anything?”
He shook his head and I strolled into his apartment like it was my own. I noticed the unopened envelope on the way back from the kitchen. It was brown, flat, and rectangular, like most envelopes. Also like me prepuberty. The return address was stamped Bureau of Security & Investigative Services. I took it outside, waving it in Aubrey’s general direction. “You didn’t tell me you heard back from the licensing people.”
Aubrey barely glanced in my direction. “I did not realize I had.”
I ripped it open. Aubrey was not happy. “You know it is illegal to open someone else’s mail, Ms. Anderson.”
“You know snitches get stitches, Mr. Adams-Parker.” I pulled out a slim handbook, study materials, and a letter congratulating Aubrey on his private investigator license application being approved. Skimming it, I gave Aubrey the highlights. “They’re happy your application has been accepted. Blah. Blah. Blah. Next step is to call the number in the enclosed handbook to schedule the exam.”
He just nodded. For someone so concerned about breaking federal mail-tampering laws, he was in no hurry to reclaim his package. I continued on. “Testing is six days a week in a wide variety of locations to fit your schedule and traveling needs. Ooh, there’s one in downtown. That’s not far.” I gave him a date. “Does that work for you? I can pick you up.”
“That will not be necessary, Ms. Anderson.”
“Great. Let’s call them now!”
After we got Aubrey all set up with his test, I bugged him for another half hour and then finally let him be. I spent the rest of the day cleaning Sienna’s and my apartment, talking with my parents, having dinner with my boyfriend, and generally managing to resist stalking an email account.
It was all good … until Day Two with no response.
That’s when I went into full panic mode, which normally involved sitting on my bed. In the dark. Trying to break a World Record for how many Oreos one could stuff in one’s mouth. My current best was nine. And that’s exactly what I did, alternating between downing Oreos and searching Google for references to Viv3000. The hope was I’d find some clue of Viv’s identity. They had to be somehow connected to Piper if they were close enough to not only know about any lip-syncing but also have access to proof of it.
I started off just searching Viv3000. Besides an unrelated outdated Flickr account, nothing came up.
So I added Viv3000 and J. Chris to spice things up, all while trying to avoid getting Oreo remnants on my new bedsheets. I typed in the names and hit enter. Google being Google, it offered a suggestion: Did you mean Vivian J. Chris $3,000?
I did not, but I’d still take it. Clicking on the suggestion, I was shocked at how many links popped up—all with variations of the same headline: Singer-actress Janet Christie signs on for $3,000 remake.
I picked one article at random and clicked on it. J. Chris had signed on to play Vivian (ding ding) in a version of the movie $3,000, which apparently was a “dark drama” about a “down-on-her-luck” streetwalker who gets offered $3,000 to spend the week with a rich, successful businessman.
It was a remake. The original hit theaters in 1990, but not before Hollywood had stripped it of its dark elements, changed the title to be reminiscent of a song about a lady walking down the street, and gave it the requisite Happily Ever After. The movie itself had its own happy ending—Pretty Woman became one of the biggest romantic comedies ever.
My mind flashed to the Anani blind item. Lyla had mentioned “pretty” five times. Sienna and I were right in assuming it was a clue. It led us to Pretty Boy, after all. We just hadn’t realized it had another meaning.
Lyla had hidden Joseline’s sex tape in a Reality Bites case. Did she have a similar sick sense of humor about the J. Chris audiovisuals? I was pretty sure I’d seen a copy of Pretty Woman somewhere in her vast collection. Luckily, the two bags of DVDs were still stuffed in my backseat. I’d yet to donate Lyla’s stuff.
I’d love to pretend that I kept them because my Spidey senses told me I’d need them one day. In reality, I’d been “meaning to” stop by the Salvation Army in the same way I’d been “meaning to” drink more water.
Of course, when Past Dayna had shoved the DVDs back in the bags before she’d shoved them back in the car, she’d neglected to put them back in any semblance of order, which meant Present Dayna had go through both bags to find it. I could’ve taken everything out in an orderly fashion, one thing at a time so not to make my Infiniti any more of a mess than it already naturally was. Instead I dumped the first bag all over the backseat and went scavenging as if for gold.
I threw the random junk and non–Pretty Woman DVDs into the front passenger seat, not caring where they landed. That was a problem for Future Dayna. Coming up empty, I moved on to bag number two and repeated the entire process.
Pretty Woman wasn’t the last DVD I checked, but it was close. I opened the case. The DVD itself had the iconic photo of Julia Roberts and Richard Gere on it. Not a surprise. Someone would have noticed if it didn’t. But I still wasn’t ready to give up. Not just yet. Lyla had been nothing if not sly. Sliding the DVD jacket out from the case, I hoped for some additional clue. Maybe she’d written the source’s real name or exactly where she’d left the lip-syncing proof. No dice.
Deciding to watch the DVD anyway, I went back upstairs. Sienna sat on the couch playing with her phone. I gave her an update. When I told her
about the J. Chris connection, she practically did a seated cartwheel and proceeded to scream “I told you so!” eleven and a half times—the half only because I finally managed to cut her off with an apology. “I will never doubt you again,” I said.
We both knew this was a lie, but we still went with it. I practically jammed the DVD into the player and waited for the thing to load. The screen went momentarily black. I held my breath until the menu screen popped up. I should’ve just breathed. It was a regular DVD menu.
I selected play movie as I spoke. “Maybe she got super slick and hid the proof in the movie. Maybe Lyla knew that one day someone—me—would look for the proof and that someone would see the menu. Maybe she hoped they would just give up—thereby keeping her secret safe.”
“Or maybe it’s just straight Pretty Woman.” The movie started and Sienna spoke again. “Oh hey, it looks just like the beginning of Pretty Woman!”
I had no plans to give up that easily. Ever. I hit the fast forward button. Once. Twice. Three times. The movie jumped forward in fits and bursts. Thoughts of Geppetto flashed through my brain just as quickly as bits and pieces of movie images flashed on screen. I recognized a few scenes as they flew by. The thigh-highs. The singing in the bathtub to Prince. Vivian wearing the red dress. Him snapping the necklace case shut.
“Stop!” Sienna yelled.
Sixteen
I got excited. “You see something?”
“Nope, this is my favorite part.”
So we sat and watched Vivian tell the super mean saleslady about herself. It really was a good scene. So good we watched it twice, Sienna parroting the words with Vivian. Me playing the part of the stuffy sales lady. Once we finished our lines, we continued to fast forward. Within ten minutes, it was over and I had nothing to show for it.
I stared at the DVD cover. “I’ve seen this somewhere before.”
“Maybe VH1 played it.”
“No, not like that.”
I racked my brain, mentally replaying the past few days. When it finally came to me, it still felt like a long shot. But still. I turned to Sienna. “I need you to be a distraction.”
She jumped up. “Let me just change into a lower-cut top.”
“Distraction for Nina.”
“Oh, I don’t think she’s a boob girl but I can definitely still try.”
We heard Nina before we saw her. I recognized the voice immediately. It was the same one from my nightmares. In a repeat performance from my last visit to the Silver Sphere offices, Sienna and I did the whole “use the Batphone to call since no one is in reception” bit, but only after Sienna took a few selfies with the oversized Award statuette in the lobby. I made a note to add it to her Insta account as soon as we got back home.
“I cannot wait until we go to the show,” she said.
Blurg. I’d forgotten about that. I hadn’t even bothered to shop for a dress yet. Sienna must have read my mind. “I got us dresses. Fab is bringing them the day of the show.”
“He knows my size?”
“He’s bringing every size. We can just return the rest.”
“Works for me. Thanks!”
That settled, we called inside. Neither Batman nor Kitt answered the phone. An anonymous female voice let us in instead. The voice belonged to an intern, who met us on the other side of the door and led us to Nina’s office before scurrying off. I didn’t blame her.
I immediately understood why Kitt couldn’t come to the phone. She was too busy being yelled at by Nina. The door to the office was closed, yet I heard her as clear as day. A Los Angeles day. Not a Seattle one. “We promised Toyota that Todd Arrington would be there. And he’d take a pic with the car. You told me you took care of it! It was your one job.”
“I did. I swear. But his assistant said he changed his mind,” Kitt said. I could hear the growing panic in her voice.
“They always change their mind. It’s your job to change it back.”
Part of me wanted to save Kitt from Nina’s wrath. The other part wanted to eavesdrop in case I overheard something good. Compassionate Me won and I knocked. Nina stopped mid-scream. There was a pause and when she spoke again, it sounded like she’d transformed back into human form. “Who is it?”
I smiled even though she couldn’t see me. “Dayna and Sienna.”
She sighed so loud I heard it through the two inches of metal and ten feet of office space separating us. “I told you I’d call you when the check was ready.”
Sienna chose that moment to be helpful. “We’re not here about the check.”
“Then why are you here?”
Nina still hadn’t bothered to come out. We were literally talking to a closed door. It was for the best, since Sienna turned to me. “Give her a reason we’re here,” she hissed.
“The reason was the check,” I told Sienna. “You knew that when you volunteered that we weren’t here for the check!”
She had no answer to that, but then neither did I. So we just stood there giving each other panicked looks, willing the other to come up with a good idea. We stood like that for so long that Nina finally spoke again. “Thank God they’re gone. I need to see Gus, then get over to the hotel.”
She clearly wasn’t talking to us. “He’s not here,” Kitt said.
“Of course he isn’t.”
The door swung open and we were finally face to face with Nina. Both Kitt and the Pretty Woman poster were a few feet behind her. So far, yet so close. I needed in there. Pronto. Nina looked at me. “Were you standing outside this entire time?”
The good news was I’d finally figured out an excuse for our presence. “Yes. We were waiting for Kitt. We need more details about the Gus interview.” I’d forgotten about it, along with the fact that I was going to the awards show. I looked past Nina to Kitt and threw her my most innocent smile.
Nina wasn’t having it. At all. “You don’t want to talk to me?” She had the nerve to sound put-out, like she hadn’t just tried to wait us out by hiding in her office.
I ignored that. “Kitt, you have time to go over a few more details about the interview?”
“Of course!” We both smiled at each other, pretending like a fully grown human wasn’t blocking our way. Never one to miss out on being in the spotlight—one she’d tried to extinguish a few minutes prior—Nina looked at me and smiled. “Will Omari be coming tonight?” I had no clue what she was talking about. This was clear, too, because she clarified. “Tonight is the 18th Annual Silver Sphere Awards Official Gift Lounge Presented by the Brand New Toyota Prius.”
Next to me, Sienna started practically shaking in excitement.
“The 18th Annual Silver Sphere Awards Official Gift Lounge?” I repeated. It would kill her I hadn’t included the entire title.
Nina fell for it. “Presented by the Brand-New Toyota Prius.”
A mouthful for what basically amounted to a conference room, albeit a really nice one, packed to the gills with people and stuff. You have your swag bags—well, gift lounges are swag bags to the hundredth power, an awards season staple along with questions about “Who are you wearing?” and the orchestra playing lesser-known winners offstage before commercial breaks.
With gift lounges, celebs can come, peruse the goods, take a few publicity pics, and just leave with whatever catches their fancy. Anywhere else, this would be considered stealing. Here it’s considered a good business opportunity. Yes, companies pay thousands of dollars for the chance to give their stuff away free.
Needless to say, it was not Omari’s thing. At all. He was begrudgingly doing the parties and interviews because he wanted to win—even if he didn’t admit it. But this was pushing it. I took a little too much glee reminding Nina of that. “Yeah, I doubt it.”
“He has to come,” she said. “You need to make him come.”
I was about to remind her I wasn’t Kitt. She coul
dn’t just boss me around. But Sienna jumped in first. “I can make sure he gets his ticket if you want to give it to me.”
She sounded convincing. In reality, there was no way Omari would even know the ticket existed. Nina barely glanced in her direction. “There are no tickets. Just a list. One he’s already on.” She checked her Fitbit, then turned to Kitt. “I’m heading to the lounge. Talk to Todd’s people. And remind Gus he promised to run that exclusive this afternoon.”
And with that, she was gone—leaving me alone with Kitt, Sienna, and her open, empty office. I needed to get rid of Kitt ASAP. Sienna and the office could stay right where they were. Unfortunately, Kitt resisted my attempts to will her to just walk away. “So you guys are going to do the interview!” she said.
This is probably why people suggest you not lie. It’s hard to keep track of them. Not that I would let that deter me from doing it again. “We actually just wanted more info,” I told her. “I know Nina gave you a big to-do list. Just send us the details.”
“I can multitask. Let’s go chat in the conference room.”
Ugh. “I have to use the bathroom. You and Sienna get started and I’ll join you in a sec.”
“Yes, let’s go.” Sienna made a point of adjusting her top and thrusting her boobs in Kitt’s general direction. Kitt didn’t even glance at them. Guess she obviously wasn’t a boob person either. Women could be weird like that. Probably because if they ever wanted to see boobs, all they had to do was look down.
Sienna and Kitt took off in one direction and I in the other. One byproduct of always having to use the bathroom was you never forgot where one was. It was like some sixth sense. Some people never forget a face. I never forget a lavatory location.
When I got back from my bathroom break, Nina’s office was still open—and empty. There were people around but I paid them no mind. They in turn paid me none. I’d once crashed an audition a friend had told me about, and despite a serious case of the nerves, I’d forced myself to walk in like I belonged there. It worked. The poor assistant checking me in assumed the mistake had been on her end. I didn’t get the part but I did get a good life lesson. If you act like you belong somewhere, no one questions if you don’t.
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