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“Evidently you know her personally.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this and a million other missed calls, Candice? Anyone would think you had something important to talk to me about when I’m on annual leave.” I ask leisurely, knowing it’ll antagonize her. “You’re not the only one without the luxury of time today, my sister is getting married and I'm the Best Man. I have a lot to do.”
“You're not working on Krystal Valentina?”
“Apparently…” I leave a brief pause between words as I walk toward the living room in search of Stephi. “I need to avoid the firing squad.”
“She told you?” Candice sounds surprised. “Exactly how well do you know Krystal Valentina? I mean, if you were able to get past William Jordan without jumping through legal hoops. That was a private conversation.”
I’m married to her!
I want to shout it from the rooftops. I’m married to the only woman I’ve ever loved. I glance at the note from Julia on the kitchenette counter. She’s taken Stephi to have her hair and makeup done with the other bridesmaids, and I need to meet Darryl at noon. I have an hour and a half.
“What, you mean, the conversation where you no sooner stabbed me in the back to avoid a lawsuit?”
“You'd better not be freelancing, Sean!” Silence hangs between us. Candice can make what she wants of my lack of defense “Ramirez isn't talking, and if neither of them is then whatever they’re sitting on is big.”
“I've got to go, Candice.”
“Get a move on Sean. The longer you take the more chance we have of someone else cracking Ramirez.”
And that is a bad idea. I disconnect the call. Someone somewhere is going to let the cat out of the bag, and that cat is going to hiss and spit, and make a ruckus if we don’t communicate soon. I should call Ramirez and find out what the hell is going on.
My stomach grumbles, and I need coffee. I decide to eat before I make the call.
I make my way down to the hotel's twenty-four-hour buffet restaurant. Mimi is sitting on her own, talking on the telephone. As I near the table with a plate heavily layered with scrambled eggs and bacon, I overhear that she’s talking to her seven and half year old daughter; she looks incredibly upset as she ends the call.
“Mimi, is everything all right?”
“Sean, I… hate that she's using you like this.” A frown pulls at my brows. “You don't know her like I do.” I open my mouth to argue with her when she adds, “You deserve to know the truth.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, sinking into the chair opposite her.
A trembling sigh responds. The tears fill her eyes. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just missing Macaulay. I should have brought her with me.”
I look at Mimi again. She’s been the only person to understand what I’ve been through this year. She's been my partner in crime, feeding me information on her sister’s relationship with Ramirez. Annoyed that Ashleigh had gone there and had fallen for her ex. So if Mimi thinks there’s something I need to know, then we need to talk.
A waitress turns over my coffee cup and begins to pour.
“Have you and Ryder conspired together to stage an intervention, Mimi?” I pick up the cup without milk or sugar and take a long drink. I keep my gaze trained on her as the too hot liquid burns a path down my throat. Any sign that she's upset is gone as she stirs her own refilled cup. But she makes no attempt to admit or deny what I suggest, so I press for an answer. “...Because, to be frank, I don't appreciate the interference or the crocodile tears.”
Her gaze snaps up to meet mine and I swallow against the instant urge to get up and leave. I hate being played and her tears are phony. If she were anyone else I’d have told her to go to hell, even Ashleigh. But I must admit, I’m intrigued. Why does she feel the need to go to such lengths?
“You were given the story of the year last night.” Her voice remains low. She’s worried about the other guests hearing her. “Why haven't you released it?”
So that’s what this is about? Mimi’s worried about the story going into the press. “Don’t worry Mimi, it’s not true, and I don't publish lies.”
Mimi’s brows lift as she moves back from the table slightly. “You can usually see through her bullshit, Sean.” Her electric blue stare captivates me as the self-assurance Ashleigh returned to me rapidly unravels in my stomach. “I shouldn't have to remind you that my sister is very accomplished at manipulating people.”
I swallow against the warning. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Ashleigh’s gifted. She has the ability to get inside peoples’ heads. She makes an outsider feel like they’re part of her journey, like they’re her best friend. The critics love her. Fans love her. But I do usually see past the façade.
“I bet you haven't got a single word on what happened Wednesday night.” It’s not often Mimi is patronizing. She lifts her cup from the table and toward her lips as she adds, “And you won't.”
“I don't need to know.”
“Jeez.” She shakes her head as she returns the cup to the table without taking a drink. “She's got those claws into you good this time.” She leans toward the table. A delicately painted set of nails touch my forearm as she turns her sad blue eyes up to my face. “I know there's history,” she whispers. “And I know that, last year, before all this with Justin, you were engaged and you probably had something. But what she's doing now, is just to keep you from telling the world about the baby.”
Her words are like running into a brick wall. For a moment everything stops. No light, no sound, no thump of my heartbeat. Then it all returns in a rush of adrenaline as my heart instantly denies it.
