by Reese Ryan
I hold back a smirk. “It’s just a few months a year. It gets quite hot here in the summer.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess.” Autumn scans the walls and my desk. She’s stalling. I’m not quite sure why, but I don’t like it.
We shoot the breeze, talking about unbelievably trivial matters. Finally Leslie returns with our tea.
“Thanks!” Autumn clutches the cup. She sips the hot liquid. “I’m so damned cold I can barely think. How long before you heat up again?”
“Not long.” Perhaps her seeming inability to get warm is connected to her rumored drug use and the fact that she weighs little more than a bird. Or maybe she’s more like a snake than those tabloid headlines could ever imagine. Her gaunt body seems to be regulated by the temperature of her environment. “Feeling better?”
Autumn nods. She practically drains her cup then sets it on the edge of my desk, along with her shades. The sunglasses aren’t just part of the routine camouflage celebrities don to hide their famous faces whenever they leave home. Autumn’s shades mask her red-rimmed eyes and the dark circles underneath them. She adjusts herself in the chair and straightens her tiny skirt. “I guess you know I’m Beau’s sister,” she says finally.
I nod matter-of-factly. “That god-awful reporter who came here told me as much.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. It must’ve been quite a shock.”
“It was.” I maintain a straight face. No show of emotions. Just the facts, ma’am. “Is that why your brother sent you here? To soften the blow?”
“Beau? God, no! He’d never send one of us. He thinks we’re circus freaks or something. Sometimes I think he’s right.”
“Then why...how did you know about me? And how’d you know I found out about your brother? I haven’t even told him.”
“I’ve known about you, like, forever. Though at first, I didn’t really know your name. Just that my brother had a major crush on you. I tried to get him to ask you on a real date, but he always came up with a million lame-ass excuses.” She waves her hands dramatically as she speaks. “I was glad when he finally told you how he felt.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” I say. “This is weird for me. You talk like you know everything about me and your brother. Before Monday I didn’t know anything about you.”
“He never told you about his brother and sisters?” She raises one eyebrow and reaches for her cup of tea again.
“He did mention his siblings. He just never said you were his sister.”
She nods. “I know he’s stealthy about his connection to our family. Half the time, who could blame him? But please don’t hold that against him. Beau’s a real stand-up guy. He’s worth more than the entire fucking bunch of Montgomeries put together, karmically speaking, that is. Money? He doesn’t care so much about money anymore.” She holds her head in her hand. “You got an aspirin or something?”
I nod and rummage through my desk, which has become a mini-medicine chest. There are tampons, Advil, cold medicines, antacids, chalky, pink Pepto-Bismol and aspirin powders. I open the packet and hand a wax paper of powder to her. “Need some water?”
Autumn looks into her teacup. Not a drop. She nods, barely, as if each slight movement of her head is setting off firecrackers inside her skull.
I dial Leslie and ask her to bring in a glass of water and some more tea for Autumn. She returns with the glass of water.
“Thanks, Liza!” Autumn grabs the cup and sets it on the desk.
Leslie tries her best to hold back a sneer.
“It’s Leslie,” I say.
“Leslie,” Autumn corrects herself. “I’m sorry. It’s just that my head is killing me. I can barely think straight.”
Leslie’s countenance softens and her shoulders relax. “I’ll be back with your tea in a few minutes.”
Autumn carefully opens the waxy paper and lays it out on the desk. I half expect her to close one nostril and sniff the powdery substance into the other. She doesn’t. She holds the paper in a V, tilts her head back and juts her pink, pierced tongue out. She lets the powder slide onto her tongue and then quickly retracts it. The acrid taste of the medicine causes her to grimace. Her tiny features scrunch into a scowl. Autumn grabs the cup of water and takes a few gulps. She sets the clear plastic cup on a coaster on the edge of my desk.
“Now, where were we?” she says.
“I was asking how you knew I’d discovered Raine’s real identity. And I hope you were going to tell me why you came here, if it wasn’t because your brother sent you.”
She nods. A courtesy extended to my fraying nerves. “Delveccio called.”
“Called whom? You? Raine?”
“Me. I called Beau immediately. He said that had to be why you weren’t taking his calls. He wanted to hop on a plane and fly right back here, but he has meetings scheduled all week with his board and several potential donors. He couldn’t afford not to be there. This is a huge fundraising period for his organization.”
“So he does know. He didn’t indicate that he knew in the voice messages he left.”
“Then you did listen to my brother’s messages.” I recognize the hopeful glint in those bloodshot eyes. It’s the same one my sister had.
I nod reluctantly. “Yes, I listened to them.”
“Well, it’s not the sort of conversation you want to have via a one-sided voice mail.” Autumn shrugs.
I narrow my eyes at her. Some choice words come to mind, but I restrain myself.
“Maybe Beau didn’t tell you everything about who he was, but he’s the most genuine person you’re ever gonna meet. What you see is what you get. It’s not an act. He’s not running a game on you, Melanie. It’s simple—he’s a terrific guy. I only hope I’ll meet someone half as good as my brother. Instead of these assholes I keep ending up with.” Her features twist in anguish. “Consider yourself lucky.”
Autumn is indignant on behalf of her brother. She tries her best to conceal it. She’s about as successful as she was when she tried to smuggle an Hermès handbag out of the store underneath her coat two years ago. The story was fodder for the tabloids for a month.
I nod, a simple demonstration that I heard her, not that I accept her assessment of her brother as correct. I pick up my lukewarm tea and take a sip, buying time while I think of a way to respond.
Autumn uncrosses her legs and leans forward in her seat. “As to your second question, I’m here because I love my brother more than anyone in the world. And he loves you. So, if there’s anything I can do to ensure his happiness, well, then, I’m gonna do it. Even if it means hopping a plane and trekking halfway across the freaking country with just three hours of sleep. Because I know he’d do anything for me.” A tear leaks from the corner of her reddened eye. She wipes it angrily, with the back of her hand.
Normally the sight of tears has me grabbing for a Kleenex tissue, even if the tears are being shed in a corny television commercial. But I’m unmoved by Autumn’s “performance.” I don’t doubt she loves her brother and that he’s been as wonderful to her as she says. But this woman and her sister would do just about anything for sympathy or attention. Even cry on command.
“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” I say coolly. “I’m just weighing my options.”
Autumn stops mid-sniff and stares at me intensely. “Weighing your options? What does that mean? And how can you weigh your options when you haven’t even given Beau a fair chance to defend himself? You at least owe him that.”
“I don’t owe anyone anything.” I sit a bit taller in my seat. “I only owe it to myself to do what’s in my best interest.”
Autumn leans back in the chair and crosses her legs. Her arms are folded across her chest. “And what exactly is in your best interest?”
I shrug. “I don’t know yet.”
/> Autumn’s cheeks turn red. Her eyebrows furrow. “This is about the money, isn’t it? That piece-of-shit Delveccio offered you a mint for an exclusive interview, and you’re considering it, aren’t you?” She stands up suddenly and paces the space between my desk and the guest chairs. “This is exactly why my brother doesn’t tell people who he is!”
I’m stunned into silence, watching the tiny sprite dart back and forth in front of my desk, her arms flying as she speaks. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I finally say. “You claim your brother spoke so highly of me. How could you think I’d be capable of something like that?”
Autumn watches me. She can see I’m genuinely shocked by her accusation. Her expression softens. She covers her face with her hands and slides back into her chair. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just...I can’t tell you how many boyfriends, nannies and friends were willing to sell my family out for a payday. You come to expect it.”
My lips are drawn into a thin tightrope, my eyes closed to near slits. As angry as I am that she’d accuse me of running to reporters in hopes of doing a four-page spread for five figures, I can understand why she’d jump to conclusions.
I can’t imagine what life must be like for them. People clamoring to be part of their entourage for the parties, free booze and an opportunity to rub elbows with B- and C-list celebs. All the time they’re lying in wait for the inevitable—the day they’re no longer part of the glamorous life of the Montgomeries. Then they sell their tales, photos and archived text messages to the highest bidder, grabbing money, three minutes of fame and a few appearances on entertainment shows for themselves.
“I accept your apology,” my lips say. Though I’m not quite sure I mean it. “And to be clear, I would never do that—spill everything to some rag for a few bucks and a few minutes of fame. Even if I didn’t care deeply for your brother.”
A smile creeps across her thin, pale lips. “So you do care for my brother,” she says. “Then you have to know that not telling you was killing him.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Believe me, he wanted to tell you sooner. It’s just that...” Autumn tucks a few strands of her bleached-blond extensions behind her ear. She takes a deep breath. “It was me. I told him he shouldn’t, not until he was sure how you felt about him.”
I narrow my eyes. My shoulders tense.
“I guess that’s why I’m here. This is my fault. The one time he relies on me for advice and I completely fuck everything up. If he hadn’t listened to me he would’ve told you a long time ago.”
I place my hands flat on my desk and straighten my shoulders and back, pulling in my stomach. I’m intensely aware of the warm breath flowing in and out of my nostrils, my lips still pursed tightly shut. I avoid Autumn’s eyes; instead I focus on the pictures of my family perched on the corner of my desk. I wish my father were here to give me advice. At this point, I’d even take advice from my mother.
“Say something. Anything. Call me a meddling bitch. Tell me you hate me. Give me the finger, whatever. But please, don’t hold this against my brother. Please don’t say you can’t forgive him. I couldn’t stand that and I don’t think he could either.”
“I don’t hate you, Autumn. I don’t even know you,” I say. “You said you don’t know who to trust, that people you’ve loved have turned on you. Well, I’ve been disappointed by people I trusted, too. So you’ll forgive me if I needed to take some time to evaluate the situation.”
Autumn clears her throat and squirms in her seat. She uncrosses her legs then recrosses them. She breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry about everything that happened. I don’t blame you for being pissed. But Beau’s intention was never to deceive you. He just wanted to protect himself, and you, from people like Delveccio.”
“Fuck!” I say. “Delveccio! All those pictures he shot of me. The pictures he took of us at the game. They’re going to end up all over some tabloid, aren’t they?”
“Don’t worry about Delveccio.” Autumn leans forward in her seat. “I’ll take care of him.”
I peer at her intently. “What do you mean, you’ll take care of him?”
“Relax. I’m not going to have him whacked or anything, though the thought did occur to me.” My eyes widen. “Just joking!” she says. “Geez, my family is in the music business, not the Mafia.”
I stare at her in a way that lets her know I don’t see the two entities as being that different.
“Look, the point is, you won’t have to worry about him. So, will you please at least give my brother a chance to explain his side of the story?”
“I’ll give him a chance to explain.”
“You won’t regret it. My brother really does love you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. Seems like he made you pretty happy, too.” She nods at the picture of us, still on the desk behind me.
I look at the photo and remember how perfect that weekend was. How perfect everything had been until a few days ago. “Being with Raine does make me happy.” I sigh. But I don’t know if I can be happy with Beau Montgomery.
“Well, I know you’re busy. I won’t take any more of your time.” Autumn picks up her oversized Zac Posen bag, rises to her feet and slings the bag over her narrow shoulder. I could practically stuff her inside that bag.
I stand to escort her to the door. She stops suddenly and I nearly run into her.
She rummages inside her bag and pulls out a platinum business card holder studded with diamonds that spell out her initials: AM. She flips it open and hands me three of her business cards. The cards are made of crisp, white linen and the letters, emblazoned in black, hot pink and purple, are raised.
“Call me if you ever wanna, you know, talk or anything,” she says. “I’m not as bad as people think. Really.”
I stare at the card for a moment then nod. “Sure. Okay. Thanks.” I reach past her and open the door. “I will.”
I follow her through the reception area and to the outside door. She pauses again and turns back to Leslie.
“It was nice to meet you, Leslie. And the tea was wonderful.”
An involuntary smile spreads across Leslie’s face. It seems all is forgiven. “You’re welcome, Ms. Montgomery,” she says. “Nice meeting you, too.”
Autumn turns to me. She bites her lip and scrunches her face up. “I’m going back home today, but I’d love it if we could go to lunch or dinner, or whatever, one day. Get to know each other a little bit.”
My shoulders tense. Before I can speak, she cuts me off.
“I guess I figured if you got to know one of us, maybe the idea of being with my brother...maybe one day being one of us...maybe it won’t seem so scary.”
I look over at Leslie. She’s nodding like a bobblehead doll.
“Sure. Maybe,” I say. “Let me talk to your brother first, see where things stand.”
“Good. Have your people call my people.” She winks at Leslie.
“Give me a call. We’ll make it happen.” Leslie hands Autumn one of her cards then gives me a smug nod.
There’s no way I can win with both of them conspiring against me. “Until then. Just make sure you get some rest,” I tell her. I think about Jamie during her partying days. She subsisted on little more than vodka, beer and potato chips. It was a miracle if she got four hours of sleep per night.
“You sound like Beau.” Autumn leans in quickly to give me an awkward hug. She feels thin and frail. Her hair smells like it could use a good wash. The scent of day-old booze is on her breath. My anger subsides. I no longer see her as Raine’s meddling, privileged sister, but as a kid who could use some guidance. I feel sorry for her. I want to hug her and tell her everything will be all right then make her a good meal.
Autumn slips out of the embrace, opens the front door and is gone before I’ve had a chance to react. I sink i
nto the reception area couch, spent.
“This is crazy, right?” Leslie comes from behind her desk and sits on the couch next to me. “First we’ve got paparazzi taking photos of you. Now a celebrity visits our office. This is insane!”
“Completely insane,” I agree. “It’s all too much. Even if I can get past this with Raine, is this what our life together would be like? Dodging paparazzi on the way to the grocery store? If so, I don’t think I can handle it. I don’t think I want to.”
Leslie nods. “Yeah, it’s kind of a crazy life, I guess,” she says. “But that’s part of the trade-off for fortune and fame. Celebrities understand that. It’s part of the deal.”
“But it isn’t my deal,” I say. “I didn’t sign up for this. I fell for a guy who was trying to save the world. I didn’t sign up to be part of the friggin’ Montgomery family circus.” I stand and pace the floor, my arms folded.
Leslie watches me with sympathy, though I know she can’t understand how I feel. She always says she’d love to be a reality star. This’d be a dream come true for her. “So, I guess the question is, do you really like this guy?”
I stop pacing. “Of course I like him. I wouldn’t be seeing him if I didn’t.”
“Do you love this guy?”
“No. I mean, I like him. A lot, but...” My voice trails off. Her simple question sends my pulse racing. My chest tightens, and there is a fluttering in my belly. I run my tongue along my suddenly parched lower lip before gently sinking my teeth into it. “Maybe I could love him eventually. I don’t know.”
“I think you do know.” Leslie walks over to me. “Didn’t you say you’ve had a thing for this guy for a while?”
“Yes.” I nod, twisting the class ring on my right hand.
“Does he make you happy?”
An involuntary smile creeps across my lips. I finally meet her gaze. “More than anyone ever has. When we’re together I know he wants to be with me and no one else. I feel the same way about him.”