Authors: K.L. Middleton,Cassie Alexandra,Kristen Middleton
“You have no idea.”
“Why don’t you tell us and we can decide,” I prodded, wondering what he was hiding.
He grinned. “Sorry. It’s classified information. If I tell you…”
“You’d have to shoot us?” I finished.
He smiled and ignored the question. “Anyway, I’m not proud of what I’ve done, but doing something for Sera, like being a temporary watchdog, makes me somehow feel like I’m redeeming myself.”
“Do they know who attacked her yet?” I asked.
His lips tightened. “She thinks it’s her ex-husband, but can’t prove it, and the police can’t seem to find the son-of-a-bitch.”
I thought of Sera’s young daughter, and grimaced. “Wow. Poor Sera and Emma.”
He nodded. “Emma is an amazing little girl, though. She deserves so much more than that bastard for a father. I hope she never has to see him again.”
“That’s so sad,” I said.
“But true. He’s dangerous,” said Thane.
Sinclair sighed. “So, men are pricks. Are you talking from personal experience?”
He smirked. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve been a piece of shit to women in the past. I’ve cheated, lied, and have used women for whatever means I needed at the time.”
“Wow,” replied Sinclair. “I wouldn’t go sharing this information. Especially if you want any sympathy from us or help finding dates.”
“I’m not asking for anything, I’m just warning you both to be careful. Most guys are out for one thing – themselves. Anyway, you’d better get out to your customer, Tiffany,” he said, looking out the door. “She looks a little irritated.”
I grabbed the swatches I’d selected and raced past him. “Crap, I forgot.”
I’d also forgotten to ask Sinclair what the important news was that she had for Reed.
Tiffany
I got off early on Thursday, and drove to Borgenstein’s Funeral Home, which was only about twenty minutes from the shop. Turning off the radio, I looked down at my clothing, and wondered if my black, lacy camisole was too revealing under the dark linen suit I’d picked out. I hadn’t thought much about it, until I’d caught one of my older male customers leering at my cleavage when I’d trimmed his bangs earlier. I’d never sped through a haircut so fast in my life. Knowing that it was too late to do anything about the outfit, I shrugged it off and pulled my car into the parking lot.
“Great,” I muttered, noticing the reporters surrounding the entrance. Fortunately, the family had also hired security, and the guests were being ushered quickly inside of the building.
“Can I see your I.D.?” asked the tall lot attendant, who was holding a clipboard. He reminded me of an actor my mother used to go crazy for, Sam Elliot, back when his hair was still dark, and he was kicking guys out of bars on television.
I handed him my driver’s license and he checked my name against the list.
“You’re good to go, darlin’,” he said, his lips curling up.
I stared at him in awe; he even
sounded
like Sam Elliot. “That’s a relief. Um, has anyone ever told you that you look and sound just like Sam Elliot?”
He chuckled. “Let’s just say it hasn’t hurt my love life any. My first name is Sam, by the way.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding?”
“Short for Sampson,” he said, holding out his hand.
I laughed and shook it. “Nice to meet you. You already know my name.”
“Yep, and I won’t be forgettin’ it any time soon,” he replied with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Now, little lady, park over to your left and I’ll have someone usher you inside.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Anytime, Tiffany. Anytime,” he replied, stepping back from my car.
I parked the car, and then was escorted by two other security men.
“Excuse me, Miss?” prodded one of the reporters as I was ushered towards the doorway. “How do you know the deceased? Are you a family member?”
I kept my face down and stepped into the main foyer of the building, where the familiar smell of despair and carnations made my heart ache for my friends.
“Tiffany?”
I turned to the sound of Ransom’s voice, and found him walking up a flight of stairs. My heart skipped a beat as he moved towards me with his hands in his pockets.
“Well, you certainly clean up nice,” I blurted out loud, like an idiot.
He looked down, and I felt really foolish as I thought of
why
he’d dressed up. There was no denying it, however; he looked very striking in his black tailored suit. Like some kind of G.Q. model. He smiled grimly. “Thanks.”
“Uh, sure,” I answered, still feeling a little foolish.
He tilted his head. “Remy said you’d be here, but I didn’t know for sure. With the contest and all…”
“This is more important than the contest,” I answered quickly. “Your mother means more to me than any contest.”
He nodded. “I appreciate you coming.”
I licked my lips “I’m so sorry for you loss.”
“Thanks. Me too,” he answered with a hitched voice.
I stared up into his eyes, and the despair reflected there broke my heart. He looked like a lost little boy, and I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him, tell him that it would be okay, that I’d be there for him as long as he needed me. “Ransom, I –”
“Tiffany?”
I turned around, and was immediately engulfed by Remy, who was three inches taller than me without heels. “Oh, Rem,” I said, as she hugged me tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, releasing me. “Mom would be happy too, that you came.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” I said, looking up at her.
“You look the same,” she smiled sadly, as she wiped her nose with a tissue. “Actually, I lied. You look more beautiful than ever.”
“No,
you
look beautiful,” I countered. And it was true. With her dark ebony hair, gray eyes, and high cheekbones, she looked a lot like her brother.
“Thanks. I’d better bring you in to see her. They were able to make her presentable, and so it’s an open casket,” she said, grabbing my hand. She pulled me down a hallway, and I glanced back at Ransom, who began following us.
“Oh,” I answered. “Well, um, that’s good.”
She squeezed my hand. “Most of the family is already here.”
“Okay.”
She led me through a small crowd of people to the casket, where her mom rested.
“She looks beautiful,” I whispered, staring at the peaceful expression on Carol’s face. She looked a lot like Remy, only not so rail-thin. Right now, Remy looked like she was twenty pounds underweight. With all of the stress in her life, I could certainly understand why. “Just like she’s sleeping.”
Remy reached over, and adjusted the necklace on Carol’s dark blue dress. “I know. I keep waiting for her to open her eyes and tease me. Like she did when I was little. I’d go to her bedroom in the middle of the night, when I was scared, and stare at her until she woke up. She always seemed to know when I was there.”
“I think she knows that you’re here now, and is still watching you,” I said softly.
She smiled sadly.
“Where’s your fiancé?” I asked, looking around.
Her face darkened. “Taylor? Well, he had to stay another night. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow, for the funeral.”
“Oh. I’m sure he must feel awful.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then lowered her voice. “The truth is, mom didn’t care for Taylor that much, and I think he sensed it. They didn’t get a long.”
Ransom moved beside us. “That’s because mom was always a good judge of character,” he said quietly.
“Don’t start,” she said, her jaw clenched.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Seeing the anger in Remy’s eyes, I quickly changed change the subject. “So, how long are you staying in town, Rem?”
“I… I don’t know,” she said. “I guess someone needs to go through her things, and…” she reached into her pocket and grabbed another tissue, “figure things out,” she said, swiping at fresh tears.
“Oh, honey, if you need any help at all, please let me know,” I said, putting an arm around her.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll help, too,” said Ransom.
She snorted. “Yeah, right. Like you helped when dad died?”
His face fell. “I offered to help. Mom refused to let me.”
“That’s because of
Icon
. She didn’t want to impose on your career.”
“What?”
She let out a ragged sigh. “Mom never wanted to cause you any stress or get in the way of your music. You were always her Superstar-can-do-no-wrong-son.”
He raised his voice. “Get in the way of my career? He was my father, for Christ’s sake. If she would have just said something...”
“Shush,” she hissed as everyone turned towards them. “Don’t cause a fucking scene. I know it’s hard not being the center of attention, but this is about mom, not you.”
“You’re incredible,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“And you’re intolerable,” she said, glaring at him.
He shook his head in disgust and walked away.
“Wow. Not much has changed between you two,” I said.
She rubbed her forehead. “He just pisses me off so much sometimes. Always acting like a fucking baby.”
“He
did
offer to help,” I pointed out.
“I don’t want his help. Besides, he’d probably be wasted the entire time, and be more of a pain in the ass than anything.”
“Does he really drink that much?”
“Taylor says that Ransom is out of control, and doesn’t care about anyone or anything.”
“How does Taylor know about all of this?” I asked.
“He hears about everything. He’s like a walking tabloid of information.”
“Tabloid?”
“A lot of that stuff is true, you know,” she said. “Just a little exaggerated.”
“That’s what I keep hearing, but I still find it hard to believe that these tabloids know what’s going on behind closed doors.”
“Oh, they have their ways,” she said. “Anyway, Taylor says that it’s pretty common knowledge in Hollywood that Ransom is into a lot of things; not just booze and women.”
I stared at her in shock. “You think he’s doing drugs?”
“Taylor said he is,” she answered as we walked away from the casket.
“Has he actually seen him do drugs?”
She opened up her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “He doesn’t have to. Like I said, he hears
everything
, and has connections all over town. Look, Ransom is a heavy-duty partier, and the only thing he has going for him, is his agent, who keeps him in line. Taylor said that he was even late for Icon the other day, and didn’t give a shit. Hell, he almost got kicked off the show. Talk about pathetic! I mean the guy is making millions, and it’s all due to Icon.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” I told her. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“I’ve mentioned it, but he denies the drugs.”
“And you still don’t believe him?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Obviously, he has a problem with booze. Why would drugs be so hard to believe?”
“That’s too bad,” I said, scanning the room for Ransom, who was nowhere in sight.
“Enough about him. I’m going to have a smoke, and make some phone calls. There’s a buffet set up downstairs, if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks,” I said, although I’d lost my appetite.
She kissed my cheek. “Thanks again for coming, hon. If you can’t stick around, I understand.”
“No, I can stay, for as long as you need me.”
“Thanks. I’ll find you in a little while. Go check out the food,” she said, walking away.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Besides Ransom, I didn’t know anyone else and I wasn’t interested in eating. Wondering if he was really doing okay, I decided to go in search of him.
I left the viewing area and went downstairs to the lower level of the funeral home. Noticing he wasn’t near the buffet table, which was currently being raided by a bunch of young kids, I wandered down another hallway, until I found him sitting alone, in what appeared to be some kind of waiting room. As I drew closer, I noticed him sipping from a small brown bag, and staring silently into space.
“Hi,” I said, stopping in the doorway.
He looked up from the sofa he was on, and grinned. “Hi yourself.”
I walked inside and crossed my arms under my chest. “What are you doing in here?”
“Oh… just easing the pain a little,” he said, holding up the bottle. “You want some?”
“No, thank you.”
He took a swig. “Suit yourself.”
I nodded towards the bottle. “So, is it helping?”
He smiled humorlessly. “No, not really. But, it seems to be my best friend these days.”
I sat down next to him on the flowered sofa, which was as hard as a rock. “So, what’s your poison?”
“Tequila,” he replied, taking another swig.
“Ah. I drank tequila once.”
He wiped his mouth. “Only once?”
“Yes. I was nineteen, obviously, underage. I went to a party with some of the girls from my Cosmetology school.” I sat back and chuckled, remembering how I’d slept next to the toilet, vowing to never touch another ounce of alcohol as long as I lived. “We all got so wasted, I think I lost five pounds the next day, I threw up so much.”
“Funny, tequila never gets me sick. Well, unless I mix it with other booze. I’ve learned to just stick with what I know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tequila with a splash of soda. We know each other well.”
I looked at the bottle. “With a splash? You seemed to have forgotten your splash today.”
He chuckled, that low rumbly sound that always made me smile. “Guess so.”
I sighed. “Are you okay?”
Ransom looked straight ahead. “Explain ‘okay’.”
I reached over and touched his arm. Even now he was so tense. “Are you handling all of this?”
Relaxing slightly, he stared at my fingers and smirked. “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off of me.”
I quickly removed it. “Changing the subject?”
He grabbed my hand and put it back on his arm. “Only if you stop touching me.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot the last few days,” he said, licking his lips. “Even with mom’s death and all.”
“Oh?” I whispered, wondering what exactly he’d been thinking.
He touched my cheek. “There’s something so… refreshing about you. So… good and clean.”