“Any idea where I’ll see them later?” I asked. “I’m always curious where the photos wind up.”
Keats’ mouth hung open for a few seconds, and when he finally spoke, he talked slowly, like he’d been caught off guard. “Um. Yeah. No. I don’t know yet. But I’ll let you know for sure.” Then he sped up. “Definitely tonight. I’m gonna get these babies out soon. Actually, scratch that. This afternoon.”
“I’ll just keep my eyes open. And keep me in mind for other assignments,” I said, because I’d happily work for Keats Wharton again. Turned out, he hadn’t been lying when he’d said the job was relatively easy. Almost too easy, but it paid easy money too and that was my favorite kind.
“You are at the top of my rolodex at A Thousand Words, Jess.”
His salad arrived shortly, and we made painful small talk for the next thirty minutes. I feigned interest in the health benefits of chia seeds and the fine details of his workout regimen. When the check arrived, I offered to pay, but he waved me off. I excused myself for the ladies’ room. Grabbing a toothbrush from the front pocket of my backpack and a small travel size tube of toothpaste, I proceeded to brush my teeth for the third time that day. When I finished I pressed my teeth together, and considered my pearly whites in the mirror. Nice and straight and clean, just the way a set of teeth should be. Everything was good in the world of dental care. At least one thing was under control and in order.
Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have minty breath when I met William after my volunteer hour.
I left the ladies’ room, and Keats was still seated, though the bill had been paid. “I’m just going to stay here, get a coffee, make some calls, get these pictures out. But thanks for coming by, and don’t feel like you have to stay.”
After I said goodbye, I walked a few blocks past the midday promenade crowds and the gold robot guy who never said a word as he moved his body in jerky, mechanical motions, then the movie theater full of posters for the latest new releases including Just Another Night, about a magazine assistant who falls for an advertising executive and sleeps with him on the first date. It had released two weeks ago, sputtering to a fourth-place showing at the box office, because, as Anaka and I had discussed, the love interests should never hook up in the first act of a romantic comedy.
I pushed open the door to the bank, deposited my $10,000 in cash, and left. On the way to unlock my scooter, I remembered I’d forgotten my toothpaste and toothbrush in the bathroom at Rosanna’s Hideout. I doubled back two blocks to the restaurant, then froze before I reached the entryway. Keats wasn’t alone. He’d been joined by two other guys. One looked a lot like Keats and was probably his older brother.
But the other guy was the one who caught my attention. Because the other guy I definitely recognized. The other guy was on my flash cards.
The embattled teen actor who’d decked a hotel clerk. The bleached blond with the broody brown eyes. Jenner - “I Want a Room With a View on my Planet” - Davies.
The three of them were all laughing and toasting.
Chapter Five
William
The noise from the Cessna rattled the sky as the dark blue jet hit air at the far end of the runway. Being a guy, it was nearly impossible for me to tear my eyes away from the plane as it began soaring. When I was younger, I had once imagined I’d be a fighter pilot because that is one of the most badass professions a guy can be. For now, I had to focus on turning my under-the-table part-time private eye gig into a full-time-working-visa job.
I forced myself to look away from the plane as it stole through the crystal blue sky.
“This baby looks good to go,” James said, patting the side of the silver helicopter on the tarmac of the Santa Monica airport.
“Yes sir. I’ll be all ready for Saturday,” the chopper pilot said, giving James a crisp salute. “And I will be sure to keep a good distance so as not to disturb the festivities.”
“Excellent,” James said, and I noticed he was personable with the pilot. Maybe it was just family he saved his douche-y side for. He clapped the pilot he’d hired on the back. The helicopter was part of the security plans for Saturday, circling above Ojai Ranch as the eye in the sky. The pilot’s job was also to blend in, which meant make very little noise while somehow circling above the grounds for the whole event. A fine line to toe, and since James was a thorough fellow, he’d wanted to stop by the Santa Monica airport for a triple-check.
“Your turn. I’ve got three minutes, kid,” he said, crooking his finger at me to follow him across the tarmac, his bald spot gleaming in the sun like a bullseye. “Tell me everything you’ve learned so far.” Too busy for even a phone call, he’d told me to meet him here to give him the update on the case he’d assigned me–I called it Days of Our Lenses, An Inside Tale of the Paparazzo Secrets. Well, that’s what I called it in my head. When speaking to my uncle, I simply gave him the specific details his client had asked for, and made a mental note to procure a fabulous thank you gift for Jess, since her insider information was the reason I still had this part-time job.
“And hook-ups?” he asked. “Those are usually just a tip from someone in the know?”
I nodded as the cool air of the terminal whooshed past us. James walked purposefully, taking long strides across the industrial carpet on his way to his car in the parking lot.
“Yes. That seems to be the case,” I said, careful not to reveal details of who we’d staked out last night. Besides, James had never asked for those particulars–he just needed to know the how and why.