Lucky Me (30 page)

“I guess,” Milo said, “I just wanted to call to make sure we were cool. We left things kind of weird the other day.”

“Um, yeah. We're cool,” I replied, biting my thumbnail. Thank God I had a manicure at six.

“I'm sorry for coming down hard on you with the Jack stuff. I just want you to be safe.”

I looked at Jack. He was still playing with Famous' ears but I could tell he was listening.

“It's okay. I get it.”

This was
so
awkward! Why was this so hard? It was like I was six-years-old, talking to my crush in the sandpit. Apparently Milo felt the same.

“I'm just going to say it,” he said. “This whole thing kind of sucks, right?”

I smiled, even though it was kind of depressing how right he was. “We're definitely a bit messed up.”

“Plus, we had to share our first date with a pack of frisky firemen and a guy dressed like a taco. Not particularly ideal, if you ask me.”

“Should have kept it simple with a dinner and a movie,” I laughed.

“I'll have to remember that for next time.”

My heart rate picked up speed. “Next time?” I repeated.

I dropped the smile when I suddenly remembered Jack was still in the room. He wasn't sitting close enough to hear what we were saying, but his gaze made me want to pee my pants. He was better at the disapproving dad face than my own father. Milo sighed. The fun and games had apparently stopped. There was obviously not going to be a “next time.” Story of my damn life.

“I better go,” he said. “We'll keep you updated on any new developments.”

“Right.” I said.

“Stay safe.”

Could Jack, like, chill with his intense staring? His blue eyes were swallowing me whole!

“Thanks, old bean. See you!”

I hung up the phone, throwing it on the bed as if it had set fire in my hand.

“Did you just call Milo an old bean?” Jack asked, gathering Famous in his lap.

I buried my head in my hands. I was hoping by some miracle of the heavens above, Jack hadn't heard that last part.

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!” I groaned, shaking my head in my hands. “This is your fault! You were making me antsy with your staring!”

“Hey, don't blame me for your poor conversation skills.”

“I'm trying my best here!”

“Princess,” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. “That's your best? Now you've got me worried about your worst.”

“Don't you have anything else to do other than eavesdrop on my conversations?”

“I wasn't eavesdropping,” he said, not even trying to mask his pleased smile. “I was just sitting here, minding my own business like the gentleman that I am.”

Right. And I was the next Bond girl. I threw another pillow at Jack, who caught it in the air before it could land on him.

“Go away,” I snapped. “I have a ton of homework and you're distracting me.”

“There's something I don't like about Milo,” Jack said. He wasn't smiling anymore.

I sighed. “I know. You've told me about a billion times.”

“He takes advantage of you,” Jack said, stroking the top of Famous' head. “He's practically a cop and you're vulnerable right now. It's just wrong.”

“You're my bodyguard,” I reminded him. “And I'm your client. You still flirt like there's no tomorrow. Isn't that wrong?”

Jack thought about it for a second. “Not the same thing,” he said simply, placing Famous down next to him.

I rolled my eyes. “Jack, my practice essay isn't going to write itself.”

“Okay, consider this,” he pressed on, clearly ignoring my attempt to change the conversation. “What would you do if he wasn't in the picture?”

I rose from the bed, stretching my arms to the sky, stifling a yawn. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean, what would happen if you didn't know Milo?”

I looked at him blankly. “Then I wouldn't know Milo?”

“No,” Jack replied impatiently. He stood up, walking over to me. “Like, what would happen between us?”

My jaw almost hit the floor. Was he seriously asking me this? Did he not know that I was physically incapable of dealing with awkward situations?

“Us?” I echoed. “What? N—nothing. I mean . . . nothing! Yeah.”

My flustered reaction was obviously exactly what Jack had been looking for, because he smiled some more, taking a step closer. Alarm bells were going off in my head. Abort mission! I repeat, this is not a drill!

“I guess I should be thanking Milo,” Jack said, faking a thoughtful expression. “I mean, if it wasn't for him you'd probably be in love with me right now and
I'd
be on the receiving end of your terrible flirting skills.”

They were not terrible! Sure, they were
questionable.
But hardly terrible.

“Get over yourself,” I said with a scowl. “Not every girl is just
dying
to declare their love for you.”

Granted I may not be on that list when Jack is wearing his leather jacket, but the message was still widely applicable. I turned to face my desk, thinking the conversation had ended, when he caught onto my wrist and pulled me onto the edge of the bed again. We sat facing each other, his hand still gripping mine, not allowing me to move. My heartbeat began to pick up speed as I tried not to look directly at Jack. I had no idea what had suddenly possessed him, there were little stop signs popping up left, right and center in my brain.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“So you're telling me that
nothing
would happen here?” He ignored my question, giving me a knowing look. “I mean, look at me Gia. I'm a Greek God. There's no way my flawless looks don't make you crazy.”

Yeah, actually, they did make me crazy. Beyond the British accent crazy. At this rate, I was impressed I was even functioning with any normalcy.

“Nothing would happen,” I declared, convincing myself more so than him.

“Why?”

I gave him an incredulous look. His smile told me he was kidding—being the egotistical flirt he always was. But we'd never had a conversation like this before. And it felt like I was going down a black rabbit-hole.

“Because!” I cried, not yet knowing how to finish that sentence. “Because you don't see me that way.”

“So you're saying
you
see
me
that way?”

“Of course not!”

“So then why not?”

“Because it just wouldn't!”

I had given up on making up excuses. It's what he did best; flirting, enchanting, making you fall in love. I had seen it first hand and I knew no one was immune from it. People like Jack are incredible at playing games, but aren't so great at the commitment thing. He couldn't care less about me before Milo was in the picture, but now suddenly he was asking me what ifs? I wasn't willing to risk falling for him only to get slapped in the face with disappointment. Better not follow that rabbit down the hole. I don't care how fancy his waistcoat is.

Jack's smile widened, as if portraying victory. He released my hand and said, “Alright.”

“Well what would you do if Milo wasn't in the picture?” I asked him.

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of winning. Fake it ‘til you make it, Gia. In Hollywood, they practically drilled that into you the moment you left the womb. Jack cocked his head to one side, eyeing me thoughtfully. The smile remained on his face, but faltered slightly as he thought about something with evident concentration.

“Well . . .” he began finally. “If Milo wasn't in the picture, then you and I—”

My phone began ringing from behind me, and I held my breath. Seriously? Seriously! You and I what? You and I would be together forever? You and I would start a rave club? You and I could go grab some kebabs for lunch? There were millions of ways to finish that sentence!

“Aren't you going to answer that?” Jack asked, pointing to my phone.

Actually I was just about ready to scream in frustration.

“Um, yeah,” I mumbled, reaching for my phone.

If it was one of the girls, I wasn't going to answer. If it was Dr. D, I was going to throw the damn thing out the window. It was Milo, ironically.

“Hello?”

“Gia, we're on our way over,” Milo told me, his voice pressed with urgency. In the background I could hear the sound of cars.

“What's the matter?” I asked, glancing at Jack who was watching me carefully.

“We got him, Gia. We know who Dr. D is.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The most important family meeting was held in the grand living room, which we only ever used for fancy parties. I sat nervously on one of the sofas, squished between Jack and my brother. My dad stood by his bar, glass of whiskey in hand, and Mom next to him. With the whole family, all the bodyguards, the housekeepers scattered about and three police officers, our massive house seemed to be running out of space.

The moment we had all been waiting for had finally arrived. Dr. D had been found. I was ready to put it all to bed, but I was petrified. My thoughts were running frantically across my mind. What if he looked like Hannibal Lecter and wanted to make a purse out of my skin? What if he was some fourteen-year-old kid who had way too much free time on his hands? Or what if he was actually a woman? Or an evil genius cat!

“Are you sure it's safe to speak in the house?” Dad asked the officers. “There might still be a listening device somewhere.”

“I'm pretty sure the stalker knows his own identity, Harry,” Mom said, and I suppressed a smile.

“Yes, I'm aware of that. Thank you Evelyn. I just meant—”

“It should be okay sir,” Officer Donovan, the same cop from the other day, said. “At this stage it hardly matters.”

“Sir,” Detective Reynolds said to my father. “Does the name Gregory Mills mean anything to you?”

I racked my brain. That name sounded distantly familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

“It's the name of a character I played once.” Dad replied. “Way back in the day.”

“And Jeremy Boyd?” Officer Donovan asked.

“I played him in a Wild West movie.”

“What about Michael Barnes?”

“Another character,” Dad replied almost instantly.

Detective Reynolds turned to Officer Donovan, giving him a nod as if confirming something they had discussed before. Milo was standing next to his colleagues in silence, his face expressionless.

“Mr. Winters,” Detective Reynolds said, “We had to follow a long trail of aliases to finally get to where we are now. It seems this Dr. D was managing the Dumpling Hospital under a number of pseudonyms, all of which seem to be characters you've played in movies.”

“So you're saying he stole these names from Harry's movies to keep changing his identity?” Mom asked.

“That's right,” Detective Reynolds nodded. “The ownership of the Dumpling Hospital has changed three times since its opening five years ago. Each time, it's the same person who owns it, but under a different name.”

“What's the point of that?” Mike asked, leaning forward on the couch. “Why would you sell yourself a restaurant you already own?”

It pained me, but I actually agreed with him for once. The whole thing didn't make any sense. It was like me putting up an autograph from my dad on eBay and then bidding on it myself. Why wouldn't I just keep the damn thing in the first place?

“It covers his tracks,” Officer Donovan answered for the detective. “He probably knew the Dumpling Hospital was a good way to catch him. But by making it seem like ownership has changed three times, no one presumes it's the same person. And no one suspects anything's off because the person selling is also the person buying. There's no third party to raise questions. Management stays the same, so the staff don't care either.”

Okay, I had
seriously
underestimated how crafty Dr. D was.

“So who is he?” Dad said, asking the question that hung in the air.

I held my breath, praying to the heavens high above that Milo wouldn't point a finger at Jack in reply.

“His name is Frank Parker,” Detective Reynolds told him.

All eyes in the room fixated on Dad, waiting for his reaction. His eyes widened as he tightened the grip around his glass.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Dad whispered, massaging the bridge of his nose between pinched fingers.

“Frank Parker?” Mom repeated, looking confused.

“Who is that?” I said, looking from one parent to another.

“S—surely there's some mistake,” Dad said, almost pleading with Detective Reynolds to confirm it was all a misunderstanding.

“Hello?” I cried, waving my hands to try and get his attention. “Dad! Who is that? Who's Frank Parker?”

“He was . . .” Dad began, looking at Mom nervously. “He was my best friend in college. We went to Tisch together.”

“Seriously?” Mike said, as my mouth dropped open in surprise. “You actually know this guy?”

“Frank Parker,” Detective Reynolds read off the paper in his hand. “Forty-eight years old. Never married. No kids. Moved to L.A. six years ago.”

While Detective Reynolds was speaking, Milo handed Dad a piece of paper. As it crossed hands, I caught a glimpse of an enlarged photo, as if taken as a screen shot from a video. The photo was blurry but I recognized the brown jacket. It must have been from the Coco Club footage.

“We captured this from cameras close to a payphone he used,” Milo added.

I looked at Milo, but he didn't look back. I wondered if he was thinking about when he had accused Jack of being behind the phone calls. Looks like he was majorly wrong about that one.

“So you're saying Frank is Dr. D?” Dad clarified, like he was being Punk'd.

“Yes, sir,” Detective Reynolds replied. He turned back to the paper and continued to read. “Bought the Dumpling Hospital a year after its opening. The place was on the verge of shutting down. Apparently they didn't even have enough money to pay their staff.”

“Okay, hold up a second,” Kenny said in his deep voice. “I think one of y'all needs to explain why this so-called best friend has gone crazy ass on us all.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Mike agreed. “Why has he gone crazy ass on us all?”

“Us all?” I repeated, glaring at my brother. “I don't recall you being stalked! Crazy ass on just me, more like!”

“Okay can everyone shut up for a second so your father can explain?” Mom said, and everyone fell silent. “Because I think we
all
need an explanation.”

“Frank and I were like brothers,” Dad began, shaking his head in disbelief. “He never had a lot growing up, but he was in love with movies. He was a bit of a loner back then. I was really his only friend.”

“So what happened?” Kenny asked.

“Well,” Dad said. “We shared the same the agent. A man named Martin Fulbridge. One day the call came for my first ever movie, my big break. I mean, I was so excited! But Frank wasn't happy for me. He was angry, and I couldn't figure out why, and he would never tell me. We had a huge fight and that was it. We fell out of touch and we never spoke again. I heard a few years later that he went overseas.”

The room was silent for a few seconds as we all played out Dad's story in our heads. None of it made any sense. Dad had a best friend who randomly stopped talking to him when he was finally becoming successful? Actually it did make sense.

“So he was jealous?” Mike asked, reading my mind.

Dad shrugged. “I couldn't tell you for sure, Mike. He never told me.”

“I have a question,” I announced, raising my palm to my side like I was being sworn in at court. “Why am I being stalked if he's got a problem with Dad? Why not Mike, or Dad himself?”

“Gia!” Mom said sharply, as if I had just called someone a fat cow.

“What?” I replied. “I'm serious. Why am I being stalked and no one else? That doesn't seem very fair to me.”

Beside me, Jack stifled a laugh.

“Actually,” Officer Donovan said. “Your daughter has a point. Do you have any idea why he would choose to target Gia, and
only
Gia?”

“Maybe he thought hurting Gia would be the easiest way to get to him,” Kenny suggested.

“But hurting Mike wouldn't?” Jack replied. “That can't be it.”

“Maybe he didn't know about Mike,” I said.

“I highly doubt he didn't know about Mike. This guy's clearly done his research,” Jack said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

“Maybe he thought I was too awesome to stalk?” Mike proposed.

“Or maybe he didn't think you were smart enough to know you were being stalked,” I replied.

“Fascinating theories,” Detective Reynolds cleared his throat. “But we can really only speculate at this point.”

“So now what?” Mom asked. I hadn't seen her this stressed since there was talk a few years ago of potentially closing the Chanel store on Rodeo Drive. “Can't we catch this Frank guy now that we know who he is?”

“We've sent officers to his address, but someone who plans this carefully isn't going to be stupid enough to live at home. I wouldn't expect much.”

“So where would he be living then?” Kenny asked.

“Probably a relative's house. Possibly a friend, or someone he trusts,” Officer Donovan said.

“Do you know if he had any family living in L.A.?” Detective Reynolds asked Dad.

“Not that I'm aware of,” he replied. “Frank's mother left when he was twelve and his father must be long gone by now. He was never in good health. As far as I know he was an only child.”

Oh great. Mommy issues. Just what my stalker was lacking.

“We'll continue our investigation,” Detective Reynolds assured us, nodding firmly. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper, most likely trying to avoid the hidden device catching any information. If the situation wasn't so screwed up, I'd have laughed. “We've put out an APB on the UCLA student. His roommates say he hasn't been around for over a week now, and his mother hasn't heard from him.”

“In the meantime,” Officer Donovan continued in an equally quiet voice. “I suggest we discuss plans for the Golden Globe ceremony.”

“Why can't we arrest him now? Why do we have to wait until the Golden Globes?” Mom asked, not bothering to whisper.

“Yeah,” Kenny added with a nod. “And what exactly does this guy think he can pull off at such a high-profile event? There'll be security everywhere; even more now that we know he's planning to do something on the night.”

“We can only arrest him if we find him,” Milo replied. “As we said before, its unlikely Frank Parker is living at home. We'll investigate his work place as well, but right now it seems like our best bet is the Golden Globes.”

“I'd have to agree,” Detective Reynolds said grimly. “It's not an ideal situation, but as you said, there'll be security everywhere.”

“I'm sorry,” Dad said, looking at Milo in confusion. “What did you say your name was again?”

Oh my God. NOT cool Dad. I know Milo was just the quiet cadet, but my dad should at least be aware of his future son-in-law's name!

“What guarantee is there that he won't strike before then?” Jack asked, breaking into the awkwardness. “What if the entire Golden Globes thing is just a distraction so we'll all be caught off guard when he makes a move?”

“Yeah,” Kenny added with an enthusiastic nod. “Who's to say this guy won't try something before?”

“This man is all about timing,” Detective Reynolds said. “The phone calls all cut
just
before he knows we can trace it back to him. The reporters at the school appeared almost immediately after he hung up. This man is extremely particular about time.”

“It's about the performance,” Officer Donovan added with a nod. “Theatrics. I don't think he's going to strike before he says he will.”

“Gia,” Mom said with an exhausted sigh. “Are you sure you want to do this, kiddo? People will understand if you pull out. They brought you in so last minute anyway.”

I shook my head at her before she had even finished speaking. “I'm not going to just sit here and hide. I'm not running away from this guy, and I'm
definitely
not giving up an opportunity like this for some psycho!”

I also didn't want to pull out because Carol would most likely stab me, and I was way more scared of her than I was of Dr. D.

“So then it's settled,” Jack said. “The Golden Globes is where we catch the guy.”

“Where
we
catch the guy,” Milo corrected him quietly, and I looked at him awkwardly.

He didn't return my gaze. Instead his eyes were fixated on Jack.

“Yeah, that's what I just said,” Jack said.

“Now we just have to wait until he makes contact again,” Detective Reynolds said. “Or else we won't know what he's planning for the day. I doubt he's the type of guy who would parachute down on stage and hold Gia hostage in front of a room full of celebrities.”

He chuckled to himself, obviously imagining that scene playing out in his head. Boy was he going to be sorry if that happened.

“I'll tie up some loose ends,” Officer Donovan declared. “We were able to get the napkin figured out. It's the number five in Mandarin. Does that mean anything to anyone?”

“Not really,” I replied, confused. Nothing important was standing out.

“Wait, what napkin?” Dad asked. Obviously Milo hadn't told him about the Coco Club.

“I'll explain later, Dad,” I told him quickly, giving Jack a nervous glance.

“Hold on a second,” Mike said, leaning forward thoughtfully. “Is this Frank guy the reason we got the bodyguards?”

I looked at Mike, then at Dad. Everyone else in the room did the same.

“Actually,” I said, nodding. “Yeah. You said you hired us protection because our lives could be in danger. You have to have known something was happening to do that!”

“I . . . got a photograph in the mail,” Dad said casually, but he wasn't making eye contact. I could tell he had been put on the spot. “It was an old photo of me and Frank. Only, there was a giant red cross drawn across my face.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, as if I had asked him if anything good was on TV that night.