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It’s hard to say when you make the decision. Hard to pinpoint the moment you fall so far.
Can you remember the first lie you told? The first time you smiled in her face while deceiving her?
You tell her you found a job. You didn’t. But you’re an extraordinary actor, so you convince her. You tell her you’re valeting cars, and money starts coming in. Tips are nice, you say. Some nights, people are extra generous.
In reality, you’re stealing. Stealing money. Stealing things. It weighs heavy on your conscience, so you start drinking more.
Liquid courage.
You’re caught one night, though—caught rifling through a car by none other than Clifford Caldwell. Happenstance put you there. You don’t run. No, you start talking. You tell him he left his headlights on, and you were just turning them off before they killed the battery. You’re so convincing he thanks you. He pulls out his wallet and tips you. You turn to leave when his voice calls out.
“Have we met before?” he asks. “You seem familiar.”
You hesitate before telling him, “We met once.”
“Refresh my memory.”
“My girlfriend was your waitress. She got an appointment for me. You called me an amateur after thirty seconds.”
“Ah, the girl from the diner?” he asks. “I remember her. She spoke highly of you. I could tell she believed every word. Made me want to meet the actor she said was, and I quote, ‘way too good for even you, Mr. Caldwell’.”
You laugh. “She said that?”
“She did,” he says. “And I must say, you’re a decent actor. You’re a natural, very convincing when you speak. So convincing, in fact, you almost made me forget my headlights were automatic.”
You know you’re busted as soon as he says that.
You pull the money from your pocket—the twenty he tipped, as well as the thick stack of cash you found in a Manila envelope hidden in the car’s glove box. You hold it all out to him. He looks quite surprised, but he waves it off. "Keep it, if you need it."
You pocket it once more.
“Monday morning. Eight-thirty. My office.”
“Excuse me?”
“We'll give it another try,” he says. “Be there.”
You go home to share the news, but the apartment is empty—she’s working tonight at the diner. So you wait until she makes it home in the middle of the night, and you tell her he’s giving you another chance. You tell her you ran into him when you were working. You pick her up and swing her around, excited. You’re happy, and you’re sober. It’s been a while since those things coincided.
You don’t know this, and it’s something she’ll never dare admit, but that woman? She already knew your news. She knew Clifford Caldwell decided to give you another chance, because he showed up at the diner for coffee afterward. He told her everything, including how he caught you stealing. And then he told her if she wanted you to be successful, if she wanted to help your chances, he knew a way to make that happen: all she had to do was take off her clothes. And that woman? She didn’t hesitate… nope, not at all… didn’t hesitate to pour hot coffee right on that pig’s crotch. Seriously, what a jerk!!!
Chapter 21
KENNEDY
“I, uh… crap.”
I pull the car in along the curb and put it in park, staring at the house down the block. Apparently when my father says ‘just a few people, nothing big,’ he really means ‘everybody I’ve ever met and whoever they want to bring.’ People surround the place, socializing.
I cut the engine and pocket the keys as Maddie flings off her seatbelt, already climbing out of the car before I can think of something more to say.
I look at Jonathan in the passenger seat. He’s been quiet today, subdued. I’m not sure he got any rest. He stayed at the apartment last night, but he didn’t try to sleep in my bed. He was still sitting on the couch when I woke up at dawn, tinkering with his phone.
The first words he spoke?
‘They know.’
By morning, it was all over the Internet... Johnny Cunning has been found! It started with just his location, Hollywood Chronicles reporting that he'd been hiding out in a sleepy little New York town, but as the day progressed, so did the speculation. It was only a matter of time now before someone figured it all out.
His sunglasses are on, his hat pulled down low. Although it’s warm outside, he’s wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. He’s shielding himself, hiding, as much as he possibly can, which isn’t much.
I get out of the car before Maddie can run off, and he follows us to my father’s house. As soon as we reach it, Maddie goes right inside, while I hesitate on the sidewalk.
