Fame, Fortune & Secrets (The Redemption Series: Book 2)

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Fame, Fortune & Secrets (The Redemption Series: Book 2) Page 5

by Maeve Christopher


  Joe smiled. I knew he was counting on Nita to carry the day.

  “Yeah, Nita and Cat started out helping Paulo with his music, doing vocals, writing lyrics. Look what happened. Let’s get started here.”

  ***

  Liz sat across from Paulo. “Paulo, I understand you’re a Spanish citizen, but you were born and raised in Salzburg, Austria. How is that?”

  Paulo wiped his hands on his jeans. His soft voice sounded more British than Spanish. “My father is a consul to Austria. My older brothers were both born in Madrid, but then my family moved to Salzburg, and I was born there.”

  “How fascinating! You were raised speaking multiple languages?”

  “Yes.”

  “Impressive. And how old were you when you began writing music?”

  “Um. I was about three years old.”

  “Three?” Liz looked genuinely surprised. “Is that when you started to play piano and drums?”

  “Yes, my grandfather and my mother began to teach me.”

  “Do you remember the first song you composed?” Liz smiled.

  “Yes, it was a little song about smiling.” Paulo looked like he was worried Liz would ask him to sing it.

  “How sweet. How did that come about?”

  His blue eyes widened. “I—I don’t know. I guess I was always very serious, and my grandfather was teasing me.” He wiped sweat from his brow and black hair fell onto his forehead.

  Liz put on a solemn face. “Oh. Paulo, I can understand why you’d be so serious. I hear you suffer from a hereditary disease called hemophilia. Do you think that’s why you were drawn to music?”

  Paulo looked confused by the question, but didn’t ask her to clarify. “I—I guess. It’s a gift from God, and we take the good with the bad.” He looked like he just wanted the whole thing over with.

  ***

  Joe packed our schedules with interviews and television appearances. Album sales soared, setting records for revenue generated by a new group.

  Partly because Cat made no bones about being a Christian, the reporters loved to joke about us benefitting from Divine Intervention, the name of our first album. Word had leaked to the press—probably from Joe—that the title song was inspired by David and Debbie. The lyrics were analyzed and discussed to death, and the media proclaimed it an anthem of hope for those lonely hearts seeking true love.

  Paparazzi followed the family everywhere. Speculation and gossip about David’s exploits filled the internet, TV, newspapers, and magazines. General Pearson was bombarded with calls and letters—everything was referred to our manager, Joe Harris. Joe transformed all inquiries on the secret agents into stories on the band.

  Still reeling from the shock of the media frenzy, David spent all his time at work or locked in his comfortable suite at the Ross Hotel in the arms of his devoted wife.

  Chapter Five

  Glori

  Cat was alone in the rehearsal room, toying with the piano keys. I hesitated in the doorway, remembering the time I breezily said to Cindy that Cat was “little Snow White with all the butterflies around her.” I was regretting being so rude. Cat was one of the most gifted and genuine people I’d ever met.

  Now it looked like she was in the middle of writing her next great hit.

  I couldn’t resist. “Looks like déjà vu.”

  Cat focused her penetrating blue eyes on me, and a slow smile spread across her face.

  She knows. She knows.

  I took a seat beside her and ceremoniously removed my shoes. Cat let out a little chuckle, probably wondering how I could negotiate such footwear. Cat was always barefoot, or in sneakers or flat shoes. She and Joe had reached a compromise—for interviews and TV appearances she’d wear heels. She was not her usual graceful self when she first tried them, but did improve with some coaching from me. She was so petite she really did need the extra height.

  I looked her in the eye. “It wasn’t so long ago I sat at this piano and sang those lyrics for Doug, and he offered me the song.” I took a deep breath. “How’d you come up with that song—Living One Minute at a Time?” My voice was more accusing than I wanted it to sound.

  Cat didn’t seem ruffled, but I felt a bead of sweat forming on my forehead, as those eyes locked on mine.

  “Words come to me, Glori. I consider them a gift from God. I have no other explanation.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You knew all about me and Alain. About the times when we were alone together. When no one could have known the words we said to each other. When I thought I’d never see him again. And somehow you hinted in the song that I would. You knew we’d get together again after he got back here. He—heck! You probably knew where he was going in the first place. It’s really weird, Cat.”

  “I’m sorry, Glori, if I upset or offend you.”

  I exhaled a confused laugh. “You saved my life.” I dabbed my eyes so Cat wouldn’t see my tears. Who was I kidding? I could feel the mascara giving way. “Great. Now I’ll have raccoon eyes.” I sniffed.

  Cat chuckled as she found me some tissues.

  I blew my nose and went on. “Yeah. That song—it saved my life. Even if Alain never came back. That song is my big break in life. Being in the band with you guys—it means the world to me. And I have you to thank for it.”

  Cat gave me a quiet hug.

  ***

  It was a Thursday evening when everyone gathered at the Bainbridge mansion. Since old George and Marion had a prior commitment, David and Debbie agreed to join the family for dinner. Alain and Jimmy joined us also.

  Our manager, Joe Harris, showed up for coffee and dessert.

  “I got everything lined up for this club tonight. Aubrey should be here in about half an hour. She’s got a couple of bodyguards with her, and I have more security at the club. Paulo, you and Ellen can ride in the limo with Aubrey and—uh—Jimmy,” Joe said.

  Eduardo frowned. He was having a tough time giving control of his little brother’s every move to Joe—especially since Joe continued hiring security people without Eduardo’s approval.

  Paulo wasn’t just the baby of the family. He had a serious disease that could lead to bleeding to death if he wasn’t careful. Eduardo didn’t need to tell me that the world is full of crazy people—no matter if they call themselves fans. Paulo could easily be hurt. And as his celebrity grew, the danger could only get worse.

  The media frenzy was in full swing, and the paparazzi were nuts. They’d do anything to get a picture or a story. And tonight we’d be out on the town with Aubrey Rose, the biggest pop star in the world. She attracted hordes wherever she went.

  As I snuggled with Alain in an overstuffed chair, I could see he was none too pleased with Joe. I looked across to see Debbie nestled in David’s arms, her eyes closing. He had concern all over his face.

  Paulo’s father, Francisco, spoke up. “Joe, I understand it is important to their careers to have publicity. But Paulo is sixteen years old. Is it really a good idea to have him seen at these nightclubs?”

  “Well this is a dance club, Francisco. It’s the hot place to see and be seen. He won’t be drinking. Just a few dances with Ellen—and Aubrey, too. I want some pictures of them dancing together. They make a cute couple.” Joe turned to Paulo’s girlfriend Ellen. “Not that I’m trying to take Paulo away from you, doll. It’s just for publicity you know. Aubrey’s not that much older—just turned twenty-two. Anyway, they look good together—”

  It looked like Joe suddenly realized Jimmy was there, too, and he needed to avoid another secret agent’s wrath. “Not that I’m tryin’ to take her away from you—uh—Jimmy.”

  Jimmy grimaced, and Joe took out a new cigar to chew on.

  Joe turned to Nita. “Tell your camera shy fiancé not to worry about the photos. The General says it’s okay. Oh! And also, Eduardo, we got every security issue dealt with. No need to worry. Okay?”

  Eduardo unwrapped himself from Nita and leaned forward on the couch. “Then why am I wo
rried, Joe?”

  “Look, we got everything covered. Believe me, you can relax and enjoy yourself tonight. We’ve been doing these events for years. We know how to take care of a few kids out dancing.” Joe chomped the cigar.

  But I had a feeling Eduardo and Nita were reliving the last time they went dancing. Eduardo was shot in a hail of drug dealers’ gunfire.

  ***

  The night air was warm and inviting, so we milled around the front entrance waiting for Aubrey Rose. The women fell into conversation—mostly my chatter about fashion. I noticed the guys were mostly silent. Paulo was obviously nervous—the others were concerned.

  Agent Washington’s men allowed Aubrey’s car through the gate, and the white stretch limo pulled up the drive. Aubrey made an entrance you’d expect from a pop icon. Her shapely long legs and glittering midriff-baring mini-dress captured the attention of her waiting audience. Two heavyset bodyguards positioned themselves by the limo, like they were choreographed. Aubrey strolled toward the stairs, smiling and greeting her new friends.

  With a brief nod, Eduardo walked right past her. Scowling at the bodyguards, he strode over to the limo and stopped a few feet away to take in the picture. The two men instinctively stood taller and sneered at him. Eduardo didn’t look impressed. In a second he was on the men, holding each one by the neck, pinned against the car.

  Dumfounded by this aggressive feat of strength, Joe let his cigar fall to the ground. Eduardo’s dad and Cisco and Raphael rushed down the stairs to come to the aid of the bodyguards. Alain, Jimmy and David grinned at each other.

  Eduardo let out a string of obscenities. “You think I’m gonna let my baby brother ride in this fuckin’ death-trap with you two assholes? You got another thing coming!”

  Then he pitched the purple-faced men simultaneously over the hood of the limo.

  Francisco grabbed his son by the jacket. “Eduardo! Enough!”

  Gasping, the bodyguards lunged forward to attack. Eduardo moved his dad out of harm’s way while Cisco and Raphael easily stopped their charge.

  Eduardo turned on his heel to face the men. “Muscle-bound morons!”

  Joe ran to the bodyguards. “That’s it! We don’t need your services any more. You’re dismissed.” He turned to Eduardo. “See? No need for any more fights. Okay?” Joe looked like he’d have a heart attack.

  The limo screeched off down the drive, as Agent Washington’s men burst out laughing. I looked around to see Jimmy and Alain laughing, too. The women stood open-mouthed and shaken. David shielded Debbie and brought her back indoors.

  I clutched my neck and whispered to Cindy, “I guess Nita was right about that martial arts stuff. They can kill you as soon as look at you.”

  ***

  Eduardo saw to it that everyone was transported in the safety of their secret agent sedans, driven by a trained driver. Joe mumbled to Doug Bainbridge about “overkill,” but when we pulled up to the club, he changed his mind.

  Alain expertly sliced the car through throngs of screaming fans and quickly coordinated our entrance through the pulsating mob. Joe was impressed how Alain, Jimmy, and Eduardo worked so easily together to get everyone inside unscathed.

  Eduardo accepted Joe’s compliments, but he seemed uneasy the entire evening. Nita was well-recognized by her public, a crush of fans already, and we’d only released our first album. Famous or not, Nita made a striking appearance, and she drew attention wherever she went. Tall, curvaceous, voluptuous, she defined sensuality. Her smile magnetized a room. It was a smile that brought out the best and the worst in Eduardo. No one would look a second too long at Nita and remain unscathed.

  ***

  The next morning we were all back at the studio, having some breakfast in the conference room. Paulo and Eduardo were providing the entertainment.

  “He doesn’t even have a neck, Eduardo!” Paulo leaned over the table to peer around the doorway at his new bodyguard. Klaus stood at attention in the hall.

  “He doesn’t need a neck.” Eduardo’s statement was matter-of-fact. Last night’s fiasco had convinced him it was high time his baby brother had a competent personal bodyguard.

  Paulo pouted. “I thought you were going to teach me to drive, Eduardo. You promised me.”

  “Yeah. That has nothing to do with it. I’ll teach you to drive. But if you’re driving or Klaus, he’ll be there to take care of any trouble that comes up.” Eduardo gulped his coffee.

  I watched Joe make a wide berth around the new bodyguard, scanning him from head to foot. He came into the room and took a seat. “Well—at least I know I can remember this guy’s name.” He took out a new cigar. “Klaus is a house. See how easy it is to remember names?” His cackling laughter was contagious.

  Paulo’s sad blue eyes turned to his girlfriend Ellen. He sighed. “I guess we’ll never be alone again.”

  Her face turned bright pink.

  David

  David was grateful to be back to the Ross Hotel to have lunch with his wife. He looked forward to a weekend alone with her. She was at her easel again. He wondered if her painting would reveal more of Cat’s thoughts, which Debbie had unknowingly been reproducing with amazing skill.

  Thoughts of clues, paintings, and consequences of sin vanished as Debbie rushed into his arms, and they fell onto the couch kissing. Loving her was an entirely new experience for him. He couldn’t get enough of her, and the deep feeling of joy she inspired.

  Purposefully, he averted his eyes from the easel and carried her to their bed.

  ***

  Reinvigorated after a weekend in seclusion with Debbie, David hesitated on his way out the door to head to work with Eduardo. With a deep breath, he stood before the easel in the sitting room. He looked up a rocky hill into rugged mountains. This painting was far more pleasing to the eye than Darla’s grimy motel room. But likely just as instructive. It was a shotgun and a backpack dripping money down the slope that gave that away. A battered shack stood on a distant hill. He shook his head. What was going on now?

  ***

  The men heard the clamor even before Eduardo opened the office door. David and Eduardo walked in to find Jimmy ranting and raving, slamming file cabinets, pounding about the room. Alain sat quietly, feet on his desk and his hands behind his head.

  “We’re all over the fuckin’ TV—big—macho heroes. Come be just like us—join the Special Forces!” Jimmy concluded with a thud into his chair that created a cascade of paper falling off his desk.

  “Macho? Yeah, I saw you on the TV with Aubrey again.” Eduardo laughed.

  Jimmy turned to him, his face red with anger. “You won’t be laughin’ when you see what Pearson’s got us doin’ today. We’re teaching friggin’ drivin’ 101. Wait’ll ya see these clowns.”

  Pearson arrived in the doorway, and Jimmy elbowed more paper onto the floor. His colleagues stifled their laughter, as Jimmy stood and apologized to the General.

  Pearson overlooked the outburst and nodded his acceptance of Jimmy’s apology. “Not much to talk about, and I’m off to another meeting, but I do want to let you know, Lambrecht, you’ll be receiving a commendation from Israel. Getting rid of Z has made a huge difference. And it’s spurred more progress—we’ll be working more together once we get to Salzburg. So we’re all grateful. Colonel Johnson wanted me to specifically congratulate you again for him—this victory seems to have hit him on a personal level. I’m sure he’ll be there to applaud you in Salzburg.” Pearson turned on his heel, then reeled back. “Betty will be in shortly with your files for today. I’m sorry to stick you with this, but consider it a personal favor to me.” He disappeared down the hall.

  After Eduardo, Alain and Jimmy congratulated David with slaps on the back, Eduardo sat on the edge of David’s desk. “So what’s this crap about Johnson?”

  David shook his head in wonderment. “All I can say is it must be his way of taunting us.”

  “You got nothing more from Cat?” Alain asked.

  “No.”

/>   “And you don’t think getting Darla Wilde in front of Pearson is a good idea? We got shit at this point, and who knows what Johnson is up to.” Jimmy’s anger was mounting again. “Nobody seems to remember we still got fourteen guys rotting because of him.”

  “We’re never gonna forget. It may take us a while, but we’ll bring him down,” Eduardo said.

  David rubbed his face and addressed Jimmy. “I know I sound weak, but I honestly think it’s best to leave Darla alone at this point.”

  General Pearson’s secretary arrived at the door with the files.

  After perusing the file, David tossed it onto his desk and massaged his temples. “I can’t wait to get home to Salzburg.”

  “Yeah, well we need to live through another month of this shit before we get on the plane. Come on Lambrecht. The sooner we get started, the sooner we get done.” Eduardo stood up.

  Jimmy sat smugly, his feet precariously propped on a clearing on his desk. Alain rubbed the grin from his face.

  One look at his colleagues launched Eduardo into a tirade. “Ya know, I got a closet full of medals, commendations—I’ve taken down international terrorist organizations and drug lords. And this is what I’ve come to—”

  Jimmy smirked. “Yeah tiger, now you’re an international driving instructor.”

  Alain and Jimmy burst into rollicking laughter.

  Eduardo focused on the men with a mischievous wink. “Just you guys wait. Maybe we got the short straw today. But Pearson’ll have something just as fun to keep you guys busy. Mark my words.”

 

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