Chapter 75

I was surprised to find a suitcase and a garment bag in my backseat when we reached my car.

“Living dangerously,” I said. “Anyone could have walked off with these.”

Liz shrugged.

“It’s not like I have my passport in there,” she said. “It’s just clothes and none of them have my name on them. Ryan was careful to make sure we weren’t followed. The last thing I wanted to do was to steal this place from you, too.”

“You didn’t steal anything,” I said. “Anything I’ve lost has been given away. Where’s Ryan?”

“He’s already on his way back to Nashville,” Liz said.

“What if I would have told you to get lost?” I wondered. “You must have been pretty sure of yourself.”

“I was pretty sure of you,” Liz confided. “I didn’t think you’d leave me here to find my own way back. I didn’t think you’d let me stay in a hotel knowing it probably wasn’t safe. I didn’t think you’d make me take a commercial flight anywhere. I figured I had at least tonight to get back into your good graces.”

I sighed and shook my head. Liz responded by holding out her hands. One held the phone she’d given me; the other was empty.

“You’ll probably want me to drive,” she said. “You’re still my spokesman and you have about 50 voicemails, a hundred texts and a thousand emails to work your way through.”

I looked at her empty hand.

“My boss has been content to let them stack up,” I said. “I don’t see why they can’t wait until we get home.”

“OK, but that means we have to keep the top down,” Liz said with a smile. “And that means I get your baseball cap. Keys or cap? You can’t have everything!”

I pulled the hat from my head and handed it across. It was sweaty around the brim but Liz didn’t appear to mind. She set it on her head, which was smaller than mine and it flopped down over her ears. Riding in a convertible with unbound long hair is not a pleasant experience so I held out the keys.

“I’m playing,” Liz said, putting my cap back atop my head and closing my fingers around the car keys. She got in the passenger side and pulled a flexible hair band from beneath the seat. “I learned my lesson ... about my hair and about how often you clean this side of the car.”

I was still shaking my head as I got in and we drove off.

Liz looked at me for a moment before putting her hand on mine over the gearshift. I opened my fingers to let her lace hers between mine. We rode in silence, by consent and by necessity, until we reached the turn for my house.

I shouldered her bag and then escorted her to the front door. We put our three phones side-by-side on the table. They were all blinking like Christmas lights.

“This is going to suck!” I grumbled.

“For you!” Liz replied in a bright voice as she looked out my back window. “You said it yourself: If you play with the queen’s boobies then you have to play the queen’s messenger. I owe you some serious makeup sex ... and I owe you for going to L.A. with me ... and I owe you for ... I’m sure I’ll think of some other reasons later. I hope there will be a lot of booby playing tonight.”

I thought she was kidding (about me answering the scores of messages, not about the playing with her breasts later) until she grabbed her luggage and headed back to my bedroom.

I shook my head and watched her go. I was still peering down the hallway a minute or two later when she emerged wearing a conservative bikini. She pulled a floral sundress over it and walked to the kitchen again carrying a towel from my bathroom. She glanced out the window and pulled out two beers and a water from the fridge.

Liz offered me a bright smile when she turned to face me.

“Your neighbors must have noticed you were home,” she said. “They’re out on the deck in their bikinis. I thought I’d join them and make an introduction. It’s going to be important to have them on our side if I’m going to be spending time here ... and God knows I can’t count on you to charm them.”

She winked at me.

“Come get me when you’re done with your work,” she said. “You can ogle them for a few minutes and then bring me back here and do anything you want to me for the rest of the night.”

I glanced down at the three phones. Each of them had flashed with a new message in the five minutes since we’d walked in the door. Then I looked back at Liz.

“You’re a lot better at this than I am,” she said in a serious voice. “I heard you talking to ... whoever called you. You knew exactly what to say and how to say it. I do OK with a script but I’m can be flippant and obnoxious when I’m on my own. I guess people don’t always get my humor.”

“Or you’re not funny,” I deadpanned.

“Or that,” Liz agreed with a slight nod. “You laugh at my jokes, though, so it’s OK.”

“I just want to get into your drawers,” I noted, now returning her smile.

Liz’s demeanor lightened slightly.

“Everybody wants to get into my drawers,” she answered with a wave of her hand. “They still don’t laugh at my jokes.”

“Yes, but I actually have a chance to get into your drawers,” I replied.

“A very, very good chance,” she said, smiling at me. “Seriously ... do you mind handling this? I know it’s going to be the same questions over and over again and I’m just ... worn out from it. I’m worried that I’ll get shitty by the fifth or sixth message and that would look really bad right now. I would like to meet your neighbors but I’ll sit with you if you want me to.”

“No,” I said. “Just don’t offer the beer to Callie. She’s... 16 or something. Talk about looking bad for you!”

“I won’t offer the beer to Callie,” Liz said. “I’ll let you do all the corrupting of her. Does her mom drink beer?”

“Probably,” I said. “We don’t hang out much. I wave; they wave.”

I shrugged.

“They bounce their titties at you when they get the chance,” Liz joked. “OK, Callie is the daughter. What’s the mom’s name?”

“Ellie,” I said. “Ellie and Callie DuBose. The mom works ... I think for an accounting firm. The daughter is still in high school. I don’t really know what grade. She’s old enough to drive. I know that but I don’t know if it’s a learner’s permit or what. That’s really the only information I can offer.”

“Except that they look good in swimwear,” Liz added. “Oh, and you plan to make a porno with them in a couple of years. I wonder how that information will go across.”

I just shook my head.

“Can’t even get a rise out of you,” Liz declared. “I guess that’s good. I don’t want that to go to waste. Come get me when you’re done?”

“What about your phone?” I asked.

“It’s Skye and Jill mostly, I’m sure,” Liz said. “Only a few people have that number. They want to make sure I’ve eaten my fair share of crow for the last few days. You can tell them that I am going to do my utmost to make things up to you. You know my security code and my password. If it’s an email from anybody else, just answer it if you want.”

I nodded.

“But don’t go searching for naked selfies to post,” she added with a wink. “Those are all on your phone.”

She put the drinks on the table and leaned forward to take my cheeks in her hands.

“I am very sorry I got us into such a state,” she said before she kissed me lightly on the lips. “I want you to know that you are the most important thing in my life. I’m sorry I permitted my ego to make me forget that for a day or two. I will do my best to ensure it never happens again. OK?”

“OK,” I said. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t absolutely clear about what I wanted you to do down there. I realize that telling you that you would do some radio and TV stuff was too vague. I was so angry at myself for the other stuff that I didn’t really consider that I was doing something out of the ordinary.”

“We’ll talk and we’ll look at statistics and demographics,” Liz said. “It worked even if I didn’t like it. If there was another way, we’ll find it. If there isn’t, then we’ll do it this way again if the need arises. But we have to keep talking. I can’t start ignoring you and then screaming at you. I was frustrated and I took it out on you. It happens a lot and I have to stop it. You’re willing to scream back at me. So I scream louder. Pretty soon we’re just trying to yell over each other instead of listening. I’m sorry I listened to the wrong person.”

She kissed me again and ran her hands over my cheeks.

“I do love you,” she said.

With one final kiss, she gathered up her goodies and headed out the back door. I stood and wandered to the window. I had left it open to air the place out a little. My neighbor’s back deck was a little lower than mine and it didn’t have the railings. I had an unobstructed view of the DuBose ladies as they enjoyed the early evening sunshine. Or, I did until Liz’s body blocked my view.

“Hi,” I heard her say. “I haven’t had the chance to meet you. I’m sort of your new neighbor and I wanted to say hi. I’m Liz. Travis isn’t very good with introductions.”

The mother and daughter sat up and gawked as a world-famous celebrity handed them cold drinks from my refrigerator.

“No beer for you, Callie,” Liz said with a broad smile. “Travis says you need a couple of more ice cream seasons for that.”

It seemed to me that Liz might have found two more people willing to laugh at her lame jokes (or who wanted into her drawers) because my neighbors smiled as they accepted their bounty.

“Travis has some things to finish up,” Liz continued. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“That would be ... amazing,” Callie said with the sort of excitement in her voice that only comes from a teenage girl.

She shifted over to make room beside her and Liz put the towel down.

“So, Travis tells me you’re in high school,” Liz said, moving the conversation along. I waited until she had lifted her sundress over her head, folding it neatly and put it beside her (carefully bending at the waist to give me a very good look at her butt) before returning to the job that awaited me.

I looked at all three phones. The business cell that I had abandoned had 51 voicemails, more than a hundred texts and almost 150 emails. I pushed it to the side.

My phone wasn’t a lot better. I had 20 voicemails, 50 texts and 75 emails. I was thankful that I had only given out my private number to a few people (and I’d already spoken to the person I suspected of leaving the majority of the messages).

Liz’s phone was entirely different. She had nine voicemails and eight of them were from people in her contact lists (Stephanie, Jill, Skye and Geoff Granger). The text messages all came from the usual suspects and she had only six unread e-mails. I figured I’d start with hers.

The emails were from people outside her inner circle but from within her expanded network of friends. A popular actress had written (or, I suspected her publicist had written) to let Liz know she had tickets and was looking forward to the show. Three of her contemporaries had sent messages, two about the show and the last about the scandal brewing in Nashville.

The other two came from people from RFN letting her know that they had no part in whatever Michael McHenry and Jillian Graves had cooked up. I didn’t recognize either name so I decided to let Liz handle her own correspondence on the email front.

The texts were more of the same. Most were from Jill or Skye asking if she’d managed to find me and offering advice on what to say to me.

I sent them both texts that let them know she and I were together and we were going to try to work things out if we could. That brought a flurry of texts from them – each a little more explicit about what she should be willing to do. I figured Liz could pick and choose from almost any of the interesting ideas they presented.

The first voice message came from Stephanie. She made the call less than an hour after I departed.

“I’m sorry that you’ve decided to end our friendship this way,” I heard Stephanie say. “I was only trying to look out for you. You know as well as I do that he’s not going to work out. He’s too green to do publicity for someone of your caliber and he’s too naïve to last long in your world. I hope you’ll take my advice – not as a manager but as your friend. You need to end things immediately with him before you wind up getting hurt. I will always be around when you need me. I love you, Liz. Goodbye.”

I had heard departure calls in the background so I suspected that Stephanie was already at the airport. I wondered if Liz had made her pay her own fare home. Liz had railed to me about people thinking they knew more about what she wanted and needed than she did. I knew Stephanie had never really taken a liking to me but I had never suspected that she might be like the people that Liz had grown to despise. Then I pondered if I was becoming the same thing. I would have to watch for that if things moved forward.

The last voicemail was from a number that Liz hadn’t kept in her contacts. I thought it might be from a news agency that had somehow gotten Liz’s private number. It was the most recent call on the list and it had come in while Liz and I were sitting at the beach looking at the water.

“Hey, Miss Thang,” a male voice said. “It’s been a minute. I got your text about hooking up in L.A. this weekend. I’m down with it if you are. If you’re still with the tool you were hanging with, we’ll have to go on the down-low. I’m still catching major shade over the bust up and I can’t have another jealous boyfriend going to the paps on me just now. But I’m up for a wild night or two if you need something good for a change. Hit me back.”

I put the phone down and just stared at it for a long moment.

I had rarely used Liz’s phone and I had never gone through her text messages or her emails. I had the password for both (because she insisted that I have it) but I’d never even been tempted to snoop around. Now I was more than tempted. I wanted to see exactly what her text message had said. We were going to be in L.A. the next day.