Part 22 (1/2)
”So what happened?”
”All we know is we got word that he was dead,” she said. ”Somebody killed him.”
”Then what happened?”
”We went with our second choice,” she said, looking at her notes again. ”Matt Lewis.”
”Can I borrow some of that paper?” I asked.
”Sure.”
She tore a piece in half and handed it to me. I wrote down Matt's name.
”Anything else you can tell me?” I asked.
”Well . . . there was something odd. I sat in for the actors' readings.”
”And?”
”Well, another guy came to audition, and he brought his mother with him.”
Just then the waitress walked up with our salads and iced teas. I took a sip of my drink before I said, ”That's not that weird. I mean, sometimes you bring a relative or a friend to an audition. Maybe she was visiting?” I asked. ”No, this was weird: she was all over him, smoothing down his hair, pinching his cheeks, fixing his collar.”
”So, a stage mom.” I'd seen it before. This actor seemed a little older than most kids who have them, but I guess it happens.
”She gave new meaning to the phrase. We've all seen stage mothers and fathers. This was different. She was trying to ingratiate herself to the office staff, making sure we had his resume and head shot. She even pulled out some freshly baked cookies for the office staff! And the guy, I mean he's at least twenty-five years old and he's just letting her do this. His face was a blank. It was so . . . inappropriate. And she seemed desperate.”
”Huh! That does sound weird. Poor guy.” I looked at my watch. ”By the way, I was hoping to stop over at The Depths of the Sea and talk to them about-”
Before I could finish, Tilda said, ”They're dark today. They're taking some days off for summer vacation. Can you believe it? Some shows get all the breaks. Not us. We've been working on Sat.u.r.days lately. And eighteen-hour days.” Well, that put a damper on any future employment possibilities. Yuck!
The waitress took our plates, adding, ”Any dessert, ladies?”
”They have a really great cheesecake here,” Tilda said conspiratorially.
”I'm sorry,” I said to both of them, ”but I have another appointment. I really don't have time. You go ahead.”
”I think I will! I still have a little time left,” Tilda said.
I thanked her and paid the check. As I was walking back to the studio to get my car, I pulled out my cell and called Jakes.
”Alex, how are you?”
I was happy to hear his voice. ”I'm okay,” I said, ”thanks to you. You're my hero, you know.”
He was quiet. I think I could hear him blus.h.i.+ng.
”I like being your hero,” he finally said. ”When can I see you?”
”Actually, I have some answers for you and maybe a few questions,” I said. ”Where can we meet?”
”Have you had lunch?”
”Just.”
”Coffee, then. Meet me at the same place we went last time, with Davis.” He'd be able to walk there from Parker Center.
”Okay,” I agreed. ”Fifteen minutes?”
”Make it twenty.”
”I'll be there,” I said, and snapped the cell phone closed.
I got the Porsche started and headed for my meeting with Jakes.
Chapter 41.
Jakes was sitting at a table with a gla.s.s of something in front of him. When he saw me he immediately got up. My heart was thumping out of my chest as he held my face in his hands and gently kissed me.
We sat down. I pulled my chair close to his.
”I've missed you,” he whispered.
”I've missed you, too.” We kissed a little more.
”Want some coffee?” He kissed my neck.
”What have you got?” I kissed his ear.
”Just a c.o.ke.” One more kiss.
”I'll have the same.”
He waved a waitress over and ordered me a c.o.ke while I sat and stared at him. She brought me my drink and then faded away.
”The eye doesn't look too bad,” he said.
”I got a little haircut. It did the trick.”
”I like it. It's s.e.xy.”
This whole thing was s.e.xy. I shook it off. This was a public place after all.
”What about my car?” I asked. ”When can I get it back?”