Tempting Faith (Indigo Love Spectrum) (10 page)

“What spark?”

“You know what spark,” she said. “That thing that makes you eager and impatient and breathless knowing that you’re going to see him or be with him. It’s what brings everything else about him into full Technicolor. It’s—”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I’ve been missing that spark, too.”

“You seemed to like Kiki Langlois’s spark,” Faith said.

“Kiki…Hell, Faith, I dated her two years ago. Once. How do you know about her?”

“I work for
Personality!
,” Faith said by way of explanation. “The research department dug up photos of you going back to your first public appearance with Brent Baxter.”

“He’s the one who set up the date with Kiki,” Zander said. “He thought it would be good exposure for me.”

“Exposure is right.” Faith snorted. “She wore a top made of cellophane and latex. And she was hanging all over you.”

“Kiki has a thing for brooding, blue-eyed men, or so she says.”

“Do you have a thing for ex-supermodels?”

“My thing prefers ex-cheerleaders,” he answered, his voice low.

Faith’s mouth went dry, but she maintained her unruffled exterior. “It won’t work, Zander.”

“What?”

“Your charm. I’m not going to fall for it, so give it up.”

“Look, I came over here to keep Harley and the rest of his boys from trying to turn you into their party favor.” He took a step back, his hands raised in surrender. “I don’t have an ulterior motive.”

Faith was tempted to believe him even though he hadn’t looked her in the eye when he denied having a hidden agenda. “I can handle myself just fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need rescuing anymore.”

“I brought some entertainment to hold us over until the Fleiss girls show up,” one of the guests said, opening a silver attaché case on the low table before the sofa. “I got
Good Will Humping, Bravehump, Raiders of the Lost Hump, White Men Can’t Hump, Humpleberry Finn
—”

“I’m startin’ to see a pattern here,” laughed a man in a business suit. Faith recognized him as the co-founder and executive producer of a new studio called Swirl Productions.

“—
Great Sexpectations, Pulp Friction
—”

“Just pick one!” someone hollered.

“—
Frisky Business, Gonad the Barbarian, Guess Who Came at Dinner
—”

“Put on a dang DVD already!” Harley laughed.

One of the guests aimed a remote control at the fifty-inch plasma television and powered the set on. After slipping a disc into the DVD player, he resumed his seat on one of the ottomans. Harley and his friends cheered when the opening credits rolled.

Faith folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in a stubborn tilt Zander knew well. “If your agent thinks that this juvenile display of male foolishness is an equal trade for your story, he’s got a whole other think coming.”

Zander took her arm and walked her to the powder room off the living room. “Could you lower your voice?”

She yanked her arm free and set her hands on her hips. “Something newsworthy better happen soon, or I’m running with the piece I’ve already started working on.”

Glowering, Zander started to argue with her, but loud, persistent knocking on the door to the suite distracted him. He was closer to the front door than the butler, so with Faith following him, he opened it.

“Hey,” greeted a man dressed in a safari hunter’s outfit. “Is this Harley Tatum’s bachelor party?”

“Uh, yeah,” Zander said, forcing back a smirk.

“Great,” the man smiled. “I brought the entertainment.”

Already indignant at the prospect of having to endure strippers, Faith vowed to pop Brent a good one in the eye if a pimp dressed as the Crocodile Hunter ushered in a bevy of girls dressed suggestively as animals.

Zander opened the door wider and stepped aside. The other guests approached the door, fairly drooling in anticipation as
Bravehump
hero Willie Phallus loudly called for freedom in the background.

The Safari Man entered the suite, greeting everyone he passed with a smile.

“Please tell me
you
aren’t the entertainment,” Harley said.

The Safari Man looked behind him, his smile fading upon seeing that he was alone. “Damn it, Candy,” he muttered under his breath, marching back to the door. He leaned into the corridor and impatiently gestured to someone out of view. “Would you please come on in here? You’re on!” Turning back to the guests, he said, “I’m sorry about this, guys. I don’t know what’s going on. We’ve done the Wilshire so many times, I guess Candy is a little bored. But I promise, you’ll get a good party.”

Harley eagerly rubbed his hands together. “Well, bring on sweet Candy!” he crowed enthusiastically. “This is my last
hoo
-rah before I enter wedded bliss and the land of the same trim ‘til divorce do we part. I got a sweet tooth and I can’t wait to get my last piece of Candy! Ain’t no nookie like single man—
monkey
?” he finished with a squeal when the safari man led an orangutan in an orange diaper into the suite.

Chapter 5

To preserve Harley’s fresh sobriety, his friends took turns sneaking down to sidebar and The Blvd, which were housed in the hotel, for drinks. As his pals became rowdier, so did the party, and the orangutan was at the very heart of it. Harley seemed to enjoy the animal’s presence more than he would have enjoyed that of traditional stag party entertainment.

“Hey, Safari Man, can you get him to do me?” Harley asked the trainer.

“Sure,” Safari Man said. “Candy, do the cowboy.”

Candy loped over to Harley and stood in front of him, his soft brown eyes moving over Harley.

“If this critter is male,” Harley said, “why’d you name him Candy?”

“He wouldn’t answer to any of the male names I tried to give him. He likes Candy. That was my ex-wife’s name,” Safari Man explained with a sheepish smile. “She couldn’t handle our success once me and Candy started getting big bookings. She made me choose between her and Candy, so I picked Candy.”

Faith and Zander slowly eased away from Safari Man, neither of them daring to imagine how Candy the orangutan’s charms could have had outshone those of Candy the ex-wife.

Candy had finished his quiet study of Harley and returned to his position atop the cocktail table, which he was using as a stage. He stripped off the costly silk tie he had taken from the producer when imitating him and dropped it to the floor. Candy took Harley’s hat and put it on his own head, and then with the distinctive wide grin of his species, he mimed the strumming of a guitar. When he opened his mouth and “sang” a few short, choppy, high-pitched notes, the men cheered and laughed raucously, Harley loudest of all.

Moving stealthily around the room and among the men crowded around Candy, Daiyu captured the merriment, taking shot after shot.

“Brent is a genius,” Zander said.

Faith laughed as Candy tossed off the cowboy hat and then looked at Zander. He lowered his head and studied the room from his lowered brow line, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his monkey pants. Candy stood perfectly erect, his big belly protruding. Faith could have sworn the orangutan was scowling.

“Holy crud, he’s doin’ Zander!” Harley howled. He laughed so hard the only sound he made was a tight, whistling wheeze. When he fell off his ottoman in tears, holding his middle, Candy broke his pose and resumed his regular sway-backed posture, grinning from ear to ear.

“He’s really good,” Faith laughed. “Man, he did you perfectly.”

Zander grunted. “Let’s see how funny Harley thinks this is when he can’t find his wallet.”

Zander directed Faith’s eyes back to Candy. The orangutan was easing Harley’s wallet from the back pocket of his jeans while he was still curled up in laughter.

Safari Man had retreated to the lavish buffet, and he was putting away cold shrimp as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“I really hope Daiyu got a picture of Candy making a monkey out of you,” Faith chuckled. “I’m going to frame it and put it on my desk.”

“Look at him now,” Zander said, smiling smugly. “Still think he’s funny?”

Faith turned to find Candy standing on Harley’s abandoned ottoman. Her satchel was slung over Candy’s slight shoulder.

“He’s adorable,” Faith said. “What’s so—hey…”

She finally noticed that Candy had slathered his lips with the same lipstick she was wearing.

“Great,” she grumbled. “Now I’ve got monkey cooties all over my new Viva Glam. That’s fourteen dollars down the drain.”

“Candy looks almost as good in red as you do, sugar!” Harley choked out through a fresh fit of laughter.

Although tempted, Faith managed not to kick him as he writhed on the floor, kicking his heels. She took her bag from Candy and began taking inventory of its contents. “I want to make sure he didn’t steal my identity the way he stole Harley’s,” Faith explained.

“I wish I could be there when Harley explains his night with Candy to his fiancée, Zander said. “Even if she believes him, she won’t believe him.”

“He’ll be able to offer next week’s
Personality!
as proof,” Faith said. “I’ll get a great story out of this. Monkeys and Paris are always good sellers.”

“Paris?”

“The city, not the celebutante,” Faith clarified.

“Hey,” Harley interrupted, “We’re taking Candy to the Mediterranean pool. Y’all comin’?”

“This is getting better by the second,” Faith said under her breath, following the group out of the suite.

Walking upright with a fluffy towel slung over his arm, Candy held Harley’s hand. They had to travel through the lobby to get to the Mediterranean pool, and Harley seemed proud to escort Candy. Hotel visitors laughed, stared or clapped while the hotel staff moved along as though an orangutan strolling to the pool happened everyday.

But then a young woman recognized Harley. Whether she was a hotel guest or one of the star-watchers who lurked outside the hotel hoping to catch a celebrity, Faith never knew. In the ensuing chaos, that detail mattered little.

“Harley Tatum!” the woman screamed, her blonde hair flying as she ran at him. The rest of her greeting was an indecipherable howling that scared Candy so badly, he leaped onto Safari Man, nearly toppling him.

With moves like wide receiver Randy Moss, the blonde avoided hotel security personnel and managed to reach Harley, who caught her full weight when she launched herself at him.

“I love you, Harley! You’re my most favorite singer ever!” she gushed.

Harley fell backwards, but Justin or Dustin and the studio executive caught him before he hit the floor. It took the two of them plus a security guard to pry the girl’s arms from Harley’s neck.

“I voted for you about a million times every night when you were on
Rising Star
, and all my friends voted for you, too!” the girl wept as she was dragged from the lobby and toward the exit. “I love you so much and your songs are the best! Can I get your autograph? Can I get a hug? Can I have a photo with you?”

“Uh oh,” Harley said, voicing the thought they all shared upon seeing the girl, still in tears, speaking to a cluster of paparazzi and pointing into the lobby.

“We better get gone,” Justin or Dustin said. “They’re coming.”

Daiyu offered a goofy smile when he took her hand.

Holding their cameras high and snapping photos as they came, photographers flooded into the lobby, hoping to snap as many shots as they could before hotel security drove them back to the street.

“Zander Baron’s with him!” one of them called, and the tide of flashing cameras divided, one half swarming Harley and the other closing in around Zander.

“Oh, man, this is so awesome!” Harley grinned. His friends closed in around him, pressing him into Faith and Zander. Being so much shorter, Faith disappeared between the two men. Their group was soon swallowed by paparazzi, which the hotel staff was trying to remove.

“I don’t mean to spoil your fun,” Safari Man said, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from flashes, “but has anyone seen Candy?”

* * *

Beverly Hills cop Gerard Lewis parked his cruiser at an angle on Rodeo Drive to block traffic from the site where a white van with a handicapped hangtag had run aground on the center divider covering the old trolley tracks. He had been heading back to the station for the night when he saw the van speed away from the Rodeo Drive entrance to the Beverly Wilshire hotel, the doorman in hot pursuit, before promptly crashing.

Yawning, he approached the driver’s side of the van. This would be the highlight of his night—ticketing a drunk and waiting for the tow truck to show up. “License and registration, please,” he requested, stepping up to the driver’s window.

Officer Lewis did a double take when a pair of long arms ten times hairier than Robin Williams’s ended with two hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. His eyes followed the arms to the body they were attached to, and Candy the orangutan responded to the officer’s wide-eyed shock with a huge grin full of big, blunt yellow teeth.

Officer Lewis reached for his gun.

“No!” Safari Man shouted in panic, skidding to a stop near the officer. “Don’t shoot him! He’s harmless!”

“And unarmed!” Faith added as she, Daiyu, Zander and Harley joined the Safari Man.

The rush of paparazzi from the hotel, along with Harley’s sobbing fan, surrounded the van and began shooting from all sides, the camera flashes adding a strobe effect to the peculiar scene.

Officer Lewis, one hand still on his gun, radioed for backup and a tow.

“I’m so sorry, officer,” Safari Man explained. “We were performing at the hotel, and then all these photographers came in, and Candy got scared and must have run off.”

The officer glared at Safari Man. “Get him out of there,” he said, jerking his head toward the driver’s seat of the van.

“Shouldn’t we wait until an ambulance gets here?” Safari Man asked. “Candy might be hurt.”

“Get your monkey outta that vehicle!” Officer Lewis ordered through clenched teeth.

“Candy, come on boy,” Safari Man said.

The ever-obedient Candy came flying out of the window feet first, and he used the officer’s shoulders to swing himself gently to the street. He stood at attention beside the officer, smiling for the cameras.

“Where’d he get the van?” Faith whispered to Daiyu.

“Who knew he could drive?” Daiyu replied.

Officer Lewis took off his helmet and vigorously scratched his head. “I don’t even know where to begin citing you for this. Failure to control your animal, unlicensed and uninsured driver at the wheel, damage to public property—”

“Aw, officer sir, he didn’t mean no harm,” Harley said. “Look at him. He’s just a monkey.”

“Orangutan,” Safari Man promptly corrected.

Pointing his finger as though it were as lethal as his gun, Officer Lewis marched toward him. Aping the officer’s posture and attitude, Candy followed. Some of the photographers started laughing too hard to take photos.

“Whatever it is, it has no business driving a vehicle! I’ll need to see your identification and your animal permit.” The officer held out his hand.

So did Candy.

Harley made a subtle slicing gesture, mutely telling Candy to quit the mimicry.

Safari Man handed his cards over to Officer Lewis.

“All of you, stay right there while I call this in,” the officer said. He started back to his cruiser, and Candy followed, perfectly copying the swagger of the officer’s shoulders.

Officer Lewis spun around to see what was so funny. Spotting Candy, he pointed at Safari Man. So did Candy. “Subdue this animal!” Officer Lewis yelled. Candy said the same thing, only in orangutan.

“That’s enough, Candy,” Safari Man told him. “Come on over here.”

Sirens in the distance signaled the arrival of Officer Lewis’ backup. Most of the photographers dispersed to avoid confrontations with the police.

“I guess it’s officially a party,” Faith muttered. “I’ll get a great story out of this.”

The sirens grew louder, and Candy grew agitated. The lights and noise of the newly arrived cruisers and fire engine scared him, and he leaped into Harley’s arms.

“Aw, Candy, I ain’t gonna let nothin’ hurt you,” he cooed.

Candy thanked him with a big, juicy kiss to the side of his head.

Daiyu took a series of quick shots.

“And there’s our cover,” Faith said proudly.

“Can we leave now?” Daiyu asked.

“Yeah, I think we’ve got enough for our happy-slappy puff cover.”

They started back toward the Wilshire, passing the hotel’s manager on his way to the accident site. They stopped when Zander trotted up behind them.

“You can’t leave now,” he said.

“Keep walking,” Daiyu advised. “Let’s get off the street.”

Faith and Zander understood her meaning when they saw three reporters quickly approaching. They returned to the hotel, and after being cleared by security, they joined the rest of Harley’s friends waiting in the lobby.

“Don’t you have to stay until the end of the party?” Zander asked.

“I’ve got enough for a solid piece,” Faith said. “I’ll call the Beverly Hills police department in the morning to get the report on Candy and Safari Man. That’s the only end I have to tie up.”

“So I can scoot?” Daiyu asked. “Justin wants me to shoot him in private.”

“Can’t keep your cowboy waiting, can you?” Faith chuckled. “Thanks, Daiyu.”

With a brisk salute, Daiyu turned and sprinted to her cowboy, who caught her around her waist.

“Well,” Faith said, “I have a story to file.” She gave Zander a brotherly punch in the arm. “See ya.”

He grabbed the strap of her satchel as she turned to go. “You couldn’t stay a little while longer?”

“I could.” She crossed her arms. “But why would I?”

His hands deep in his pockets, Zander rocked on his heels. “Um…maybe you should hang around and keep an eye on your friend.” He threw a thumb in Daiyu’s direction. “You should never leave a man behind.”

“That ‘man’ is twenty-six years old and has a black belt in shodokan karate. Daiyu can handle herself. But you’ll look out for her, won’t you? You’re the big hero, remember?”

Zander recoiled as if stung, his reaction taking her back to that rainy day on Kayford Mountain.

“Alex, I’m sorry,” Faith said, reaching for his hand. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” she explained in a rush. “I was referring to the hero you play in your movie, not—”

She stopped abruptly and looked away. Even now with him alive and well before her, she couldn’t bring herself to discuss that day out loud.

Zander tightened his grip on her hand just to make sure she wouldn’t try to take it back. “I knew you were okay,” he said quietly, moving closer. “I couldn’t have left without making sure you had been found.”

“That wasn’t enough, Alex.” She stared into his eyes, trying to force understanding into the depths of their beauty. “You didn’t just leave Dorothy. You left
me
. I thought…”

His fingers grazed her jawline, starting a tremble in her lower lip. “What?” he asked gently. “You thought what?”

“I thought we came from the same hive. We understood each other when no one else did. I thought that we…were a
we
.”