“Typical tabloid type,” he countered and then added, “Did you miss your mother’s funeral during your drug years?”
“Fortunately, mine is still alive.” I sipped my lackluster drink.
“So is mine. Perhaps you were thinking of some other addict’s memoir. There are so many these days, but I might use your story when she does kick the bucket. My press has been pretty blasé lately—killer for my image.” He blew on his manicured nails and then buffed them on the front of his sweater. Was it for show?
“By all means and free of charge.” I inched closer. “Tell me, did you really have a drug problem, or was that part of the promo of your Oscar winning performance playing a reformed heroin addict dying of AIDS?”
He arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Did you really have a drug problem, or was that the only way to sell the Miracle Girl mystique to claw your way into the same echelon as Arianna Huffington, Matt Drudge, and Nick Denton?”
I stuck out my hand. “JJ Cavendish. Nice to meet you.”
“Does this mean we’re going to play nice now?” Jack shook my hand, not bothering to introduce himself. He probably hadn’t needed to drop his name since he’d become a teenage heartthrob in the eighties.
I didn’t let go. “Nope. Tell me, what’s it like lying for a living?”
“Surely, you don’t need pointers. How long did you cover up your past?”
The sun dipped below the horizon. “Not long enough. Maybe I should have gone into acting.” I motioned to Hal. “Do you think he’d hire me to play myself?”
Jack laughed. “Acting isn’t about lying. It’s about believing.”
“Are you saying I wouldn’t make a good actor?”
“Exactly. You’re in the right business.”
“Ouch!” I grinned, knowing he was spot-on. “Got any other advice for me?”
“Since you asked…” He smothered my shoulder with his strong hand and jerked his chin in Cora’s direction. “I think they’re looking for you. Time to decide, JJ Cavendish.” He spread both arms out, encompassing the craziness of the rich and glamorous. “This lifestyle or go home to that beautiful woman and kids? Your window of opportunity for returning to a normal life is shrinking drastically with each breath.” The truth in his experienced eyes impacted me more than the hollow grin on his tanned face. Jack may only be in town briefly, but he lived and breathed show business. Was this the future I desired for my family and me?
Chapter Five
The following evening, I arrived home much later than intended. My initial plan had been to leave the Denver office at three to be home for dinner. Actualizing such a want was about as elusive as the big break MDD needed.
My late arrival guaranteed I’d only see one family member.
Claire’s robe billowed slightly when she fell back onto the bed, pulling me down with her. I separated the candy-apple red silk and circled Claire’s hard nipple with the pad of my thumb. “Looks like part of you is happy to see me.”
Claire stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry. I missed you; I swear. Not just my nipple.” She smiled sheepishly. “Mia had me up all night. She’s started teething.”
I made sympathetic sounds, teasing her nipple with my nose and then taking it into my mouth.
Claire yawned again, wide enough I could practically see all the way down her throat.
“Not sure my ego can survive this,” I said in jest.
“Oh, please. Your ego could survive a brush-off the size of an A-bomb.” She raised her eyebrows. “And don’t stop. I’ve been thinking about you—about this all day.”
“Promise not to fall asleep.” I was only half-teasing.
“I’ll do my best.”
“I hate traveling for business. Being away from you and the kids.” I nestled my nose into her neck, inhaling her delicious rose scent. Some strands of hair were damp from the bubble bath where I’d found her.
She laughed. “Doesn’t say much for a travel writer.”
“Former travel writer.” I snaked my hand under Claire and pinched her sculpted ass through the robe.
“That’s right. Now you’re the cofounder of Matthews Daily Dish.” She waved a pretentious hand, like the queen during a parade.
“Damn right. Even though I think the job may kill me.” I flopped onto my back and tossed an arm over my face.
“Hey, now my ego is bruised.” She thumped me with her hand. “What happened to showing how much you missed me? One mention of work and your sex drive screeches to a halt.”
I peeked from under my arm to see her gorgeous, teasing smile. I grunted.
“The trip didn’t go well?” She raked her fingers through my short, spiky hair.
“I hate L.A. Everyone thinks they’re a star or should be. Kowtowing to potential advertisers or investors with big checkbooks, I’m used to. That’s part of any job. But kissing ass implants is one of the worst things possible. And it’s not just women with the implants.” I scrunched my face.
Claire rolled onto her side and started to unbutton my blouse. “If you ask me, it depends on the plastic surgeon. Should I make an appointment?”
“You, my dear, have nothing to worry about. Yours are the model surgeons use.”
“Please. I’m a mother in my forties.”
I undid the tie of her robe and whistled. “And you have a killer body. The wetness between my legs proves it. What’s your secret?”
“Adopt the second child. Although, it was a lot easier with Ian since I was much younger.”
I cupped her cheek. “Admit it. You love it, especially now that Ian is nearing double digits. Soon enough, he’ll be a teenager pleading for his own car.” I gulped. Another expense on the horizon.
Claire rested her head on my chest. “Don’t remind me. He says he’s too old for me to walk him to the front door of the school.”
I squeezed her in my arms, stalling a moment to find a way to proceed with caution. “The distance is only about twenty feet from the curb.”
She slapped my arm. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. I’m always on your side.” I burrowed my hand between her legs and let out a sigh. “I missed you.”
“Not regretting settling down with an instant family that has recently grown?” She tickled my side.
“Never.”
Mia wailed loud enough that we didn’t need the monitor on the nightstand, which only amplified the yowling like surround sound in a movie theater.
“What about now?” Claire asked with an elevated eyebrow.
Given that Mia was seven months old, we knew not to rush into her room each time she cried. According to the experts, establishing a routine was key. However, Mia showed no signs of settling down, and while we wanted to stick to a routine, we didn’t want to upset Ian’s sleep.
Claire started to get up, but I yanked her back down. “Let me. You need some rest.”
“You don’t mind?” She stifled another yawn.
I was already on my feet, buttoning up my shirt. “Mind? I’ve missed my late-night chats with Mia. She won’t be this age forever.” I scouted over my shoulder and saw Claire pulling the covers over her disrobed body. She’d be asleep within moments. “Love you.”
She murmured she loved me more and something to the effect of how a teething ring was in the fridge.
Mia let loose another wail as soon as she saw me enter the nursery, next door to the master bedroom. It was strange walking into the room, with its robin’s egg blue walls with white polka dots intended to create a calm aura, and yet, Mia was anything but tranquil.
“Shhhh… Mommy’s here, Miss Mia.” I gathered her up and snuggled her close to my chest. “Do your gums hurt?”
Of course, she didn’t answer.
I carried her downstairs to get the teething ring, praying that was the issue. From what I’d read, some mistook the cause of a baby crying with teething when, in fact, they had an earache or fever.
&nbs
p; My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. “Ten bucks it’s Cora.”
I ran cold water over my index finger and placed it in her mouth. Mia sucked on it, showing instant relief.
I glanced at the phone on the counter and answered. Cora’s face appeared.
“I knew you’d be with the baby.” Her voice was hushed.
“Why are you in the office?” I shifted Mia to my other hip and held the phone aloft so Cora could see the bundle of joy, much calmer than moments before.
“No rest for the weary. Came from the airport.” Cora had stayed an extra day in California, claiming she had friends to catch up with. I was certain the friend’s first name started with the letter H.
“Really?” It was well after midnight in New York. “Give me a moment, and I’ll call you back.”
“Don’t forget the baby,” she demanded before the screen went black.
I grabbed the teething ring from the fridge. “All right, sweetheart, let’s get you comfortable.” She clutched the Winnie the Pooh ring with tiny digits, so perfect and soft.
Minutes later, the two of us were in the home office in the walkout basement. I fired up the Mac, providing the only source of light, and dialed Cora on FaceTime.
In my blue mesh ergonomic office chair, which Claire had insisted on to offset my back and neck pain, I positioned myself in a way that allowed me to support Mia. Facing the wall, I glanced over my shoulder to the walnut-toned desk so I could see the laptop.
“Oh, she’s getting so big.” Cora’s face was practically pressed against the screen. “It won’t be long until she’s taller than you. Of course, that isn’t saying much.” Her strained voice echoed the stress I saw around her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Not yet. Let me enjoy Mia a bit more. I miss this stage.” Cora made baby sounds.
I swiveled my desk chair so Cora could see Mia’s face properly.
“I wish they made scratch and sniff screens. Babies smell—”
“Innocent,” I interjected. “There isn’t a purer scent on the planet.”
“Too bad I can’t see her when I visit.”
I took my gaze off my daughter and eyed Cora. “I didn’t know I was expecting you.”
“I was hoping I didn’t have to make the trip.” She sighed. “But we need to talk.”
Now she had my undivided attention. “Why do I have a spinning sensation?”
Cora’s tight-lipped smile made that voice in my head scream, “Run!”
“Book a room at a hole-in-the-wall motel—the kind no one will ever admit knowing personally, even the name. Our guest needs to stay off the radar.”
I furrowed my brow. Cora didn’t frequent dingy establishments. Ever.
“Do I want to know who’s joining us?”
“No you don’t, but I can’t hide her from you for too much longer.”
“Have I had the pleasure before?”
“Yes,” her tone implied and then some.
“Care to narrow down the possibilities?” I rubbed my eyes, blotting out the blurry faces and names of more people than I cared to admit. Not good memories to experience while holding Mia.
“Someone you’d probably never expect.”
“It better not be Janie.”
“The person has a once in a lifetime investigation. That’s all I’ll say for now.”
I sighed, frustrated that I was intrigued. Once a newshound, always a newshound. And Cora tossing in once in a lifetime made it all the more exciting.
She shrugged.
“When?”
“Friday.”
I ran my tongue over my lips. “I just got back. Haven’t even had time to say hello to Ian yet.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’d chop off my left arm to prevent what’s about to happen.”
Cora, an ex from many years ago, only called me sweetheart when shit was about to hit the fan. “Don’t try sugarcoating it.”
She laughed. “I love that you can do that.”
“What?”
“Make me feel like everything is going to be okay.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I know. When you’re sarcastic, I know everything will be okay. I’ll call when I land. Here’s my burner number.” She rattled off the digits.
I jotted the number down in pencil and then memorized it. By the time I had the sequence down pat, I erased the number with the well-used nub on the mechanical utensil, tore the paper and the three underneath it into tiny pieces, and then set them afire with my lighter, watching them ball up in flames until turning black.
I had zero clue what I was about to walk into, but I knew I would go down the rabbit hole as long as a juicy story was at the end waiting to be plucked.
Life in the media biz wasn’t glamorous ninety percent of the time, not even when including television interviews and glitzy shindigs in Hollywood Hills.
Cora prided herself on having access to top investigative freelance reporters in all corners of the world. Something told me the new “project” would be the mother of them all, and the news junkie in me was practically drooling. I prayed it was nothing like the Fancy Pants story.
“You ready for bed, little one?”
Mia rubbed an eye with her tiny hand.
I melted each and every time Mia did anything remotely cute.
“Let’s just sit here for a bit.”
Mia answered with a snuffle, indicating she was sound asleep in my arms.
I slid further into my chair and enjoyed holding my daughter, wanting to keep all things evil from her. My mind skittered to one of my worst memories, but I managed to block out the sensation of waking up alone in an unfamiliar motel room, terrified of what had happened and unwilling to delve too deeply to know the whole truth. I made a solemn promise to protect both children, never letting someone harm them. I knew the damage it sowed.
Chapter Six
“There you are.” Claire nudged my shoulder gently, not disturbing Mia’s slumber.
I swiped my sleepy eyes. “What time is it?”
“Three.” Claire perched on the edge of the desk and lifted the baby out of my arms. “I woke wondering why I hadn’t heard a peep from Miss Mia.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t cry either if I was in your arms all night.”
“It’s your turn now.” I squeezed her knee. “Let’s hope the likes of Tish Reynolds don’t hear that I fell asleep with Mia in my arms. I can see the headline now: ‘Slumbering Addict Smothers Her Own Child.’”
“You aren’t the first mother to fall asleep with her child in the middle of the night.” Her forehead rumpled when her eyes landed on the blackened remnants in the ashtray, and she shook her head. “Up late with Cora? Again?” Claire’s sleepy voice masked the irritation in her eyes.
I hitched my shoulders.
“Right. Don’t tell me anyway. Goodness knows I’d rather not know the sordid details—not until I have to.”
I sat up in the chair and ran both hands up her legs under her robe. “So smooth.”
“I shaved for your homecoming.”
I laughed quietly so as not to wake Mia. “And we both fell asleep.”
“Motherhood. No one said it would be easy.”
“True. And no one said I’d be with the sexiest mom on the planet.”
“You’re just trying to get back into my good graces.” I detected a hint of a smile in her eyes.
“Is it working?”
She motioned to my hands, which were still massaging her legs. “Keep that up. Actions, not words.”
“Oh, I’ll show you action if that’s what you want.” I stared into her eyes.
She shook her head, laughing quietly. “What does that mean?”
“Let’s put Mia to bed and you’ll find out firsthand.” I stood and placed a kiss on top of Claire’s head.
Moments later, we stood next to Mia’s crib, the one Ian had used many years ago. “It’s amazing how
much I love our little girl.” I threaded an arm around Claire’s waist and rested my head on her chest.
“I knew you would.” She laid her head on top of mine. “Are you ready to get some sleep?”
“I’m ready for bed. Not sure about sleep.”
Claire took me by the hand and shepherded us to our bedroom.
At the foot of the unmade California King, she captured my lips with hers. I deepened the kiss.
“God I missed you,” I panted between kisses.
“You better have. Don’t think for a second I missed any of the photos of you posing with all those beautiful women half my age.”
“You never have to worry.”
“Good.” She pulled away. “I’m wiped, so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to prove it to me.”
“I’m already counting the minutes.”
We lay in each other’s arms, and I probably drifted off before the first minute expired.
***
“JJ! You’re home,” Ian shouted and ran from the bottom of the stairs into the kitchen to hug me.
I squatted down and enveloped his thin frame. He pulled away too soon for my liking. “Love the faux hawk,” I said, quelling the urge to run my hand over his new hairdo.
He smiled.
“How’s my favorite dude?”
“I’m going to learn how to play the accordion,” he boasted with a level of excitement only a child without a care in the world could express.
“What happened to the guitar?” I tickled his sides.
He shrugged, giggling.
“Oh, you’re back.”
I wheeled around and faced Darrell, the man Claire had slept with once. I adored the boy, but the father was an entirely different story.
“It’s nice to see you as well, Darrell.”
He stared through me. “Ian, you ready?”
For the sake of Claire and Ian, Darrell and I tried to tolerate each other, but deep down I knew he didn’t like me much, and I wasn’t his super fan to say the least.
Ian shook his head in a way that suggested it wasn’t worth getting worked up about things such as being ready. He was the sweetest child in the world, a good thing because he was also the most disorganized and unfocused, a trait that was hard to associate with his rigid older father and successful mother. He latched onto things passionately for about three seconds before flitting to something else just as easily as a butterfly floating from flower to flower on a warm summer day. As of now, Claire’s parenting strategy was to let Ian explore different hobbies. A renaissance child of sorts.
The Fall Girl Page 5