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Then he was jealous to see that I was with a big, muscular hunk.
Andthen,finally, he was shocked to see that it was one of the men from the Lakers suite.
“You…” Maurice said, frozen in his spot.
“Hey!” Brady said, pointing at him and grinning. “You’re the dicks guy! I mean…” He glanced at me. “Shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that. It just slipped out.”
Maurice was too concerned about the suitcase Brady was carrying to notice. “Heather? Honey? I’m going to ask a question no black man in Los Angeles has ever asked before: should I call the cops?”
Brady busted out laughing at that. “No way, pal. Everything’s good! Right, Heather? Tell him. We’re all friends here.”
“Everything’s fine,” I told Maurice. “Brady’s helping me with my stuff.”
Maurice kept his eyes on the big former SEAL and leaned close to me. “Is this one of those Stockholm Syndrome situations? If you’re in danger, blink your eyes in Morse code. Wait, forget that. I don’t know Morse code.” He turned to Brady and crossed his arms. “What business do you have with my friend? Because if you mean her any harm, we’re going to haveproblems.”
The scene was comical. Brady was a huge, lumbering man whose muscles threatened to break through his T-shirt at any moment. Maurice was a skinny kid who looked like he could barely lift a grocery bag. It was like a Chihuahua staring defiantly at a German Shepherd.
“Everything’s fine, I promise,” I said, putting a hand on Maurice’s arm. “But thank you for rushing to my defense.”
“I’m glad it didn’t come to violence,” Maurice said to Brady. Then he leaned to me and added in a whisper, “Because I don’t think I could take him.”
“Heather’s working for us,” Brady said to deescalate the situation. “She’s our new nanny.”
“I told you this morning,” I said. “Remember?”
Maurice looked at me, then at Brady, then back to me. “I thought I dreamed that. You said a bunch of gibberish that made no sense. Like that you were nannying for the guys who kidnapped you?”
Brady chuckled. “Oh, yeah. That’s our bad. We totally did that. We drugged her too, although Rogan clearly got verbal permission first. But yeah, we’re sorry about all that. Everything’s cool now. Promise.” He extended his fist for a fist-bump.
Maurice ignored it, leaned toward me again, and hissed, “Now’s the part where you send me a distress message with your eye-blinks!”
I gave him a hug and said, “I promise it will make sense later.”
“Forget later. I want to know now. I just got off my lunch shift at Outback. Let’s get drinks.”
I glanced at Brady. “Yeah, let’s get drinks. I know just the place.”
17
Heather
“Most girls who get kidnapped end up dead in a ditch,” Maurice said. “You get sent to the Four Seasons. Honey, you won the kidnapping lottery.”
The two of us were laying flat on massage tables that had been wheeled into the hotel room. The masseuses were removing hot stones from the strategic locations on my back, then tenderly using their fingers to massage out any knots.
“The big takeaway is that your acting was so good, they thought you were a spy.” Maurice snorted. “You should put that on your call sheet.Fooled three Navy SEALs.”
“I wonder what Mr. Howard would think of that,” I mumbled into the massage table. “He would probably insist I need to be challenged.”
I was still thinking about what Brady had said earlier. Pointing out that I had been on too few auditions since moving to the city. It made me wonder if I wasn’t trying hard enough to make it.
“This concludes the honeymoon couple’s massage,” one of the masseuses said. “Would you like some lemon water?”
Maurice rolled over and closed his bathrobe. “We havewine. It’s better than lemon water.” The masseuse was young and sexy, and Maurice looked him up and down. “We’re not on our honeymoon, by the way. We’re both single. I’m Maurice.”
I signed the sheet and cleared my throat. “I left a tip on here. Thank you so much!”
Maurice looked unhappy as they packed up the massage tables and left the room.
