Star Power (3 page)

Charly smiled, waving to the group that was now only feet from them. “The show has begun,” she said through clenched teeth.

“It's your baby,” he reminded her, then cut his eyes to the right.

A young lady stood there wearing a morbid look that belonged on a corpse in a coffin, and was uniformed in a black suit, minus the jacket. The rest of her looked like a hodgepodge of stages and ages had exploded on her. Her eyes looked like they'd been borrowed from the eighties, complete with tons of blue and black liner. She had a crystal in the middle of her forehead like she hailed from India, and she had fire-engine-red locks coiled around the sides of her head, tied in a back knot. Her name tag read
HEAVEN
. “Welcome to Tallulahville, Ms. St. James and Mr. Liam. We've been expecting you. I'm Heaven, and I'll be assisting you with your bags,” she said dryly, not even the least bit interested in inquiring about Liam's last name, then rolled a brass luggage cart toward the trunk.

Charly's eyes bulged. “A bell
girl?
Cool. I've never met one before. I like that, and I like your name.” Charly's greeting was genuine.

Heaven spread her lips, but didn't smile. She had a gap in the center of her row of top teeth. “Thanks, and thanks,” she said, nodding, then tried to make her way to the trunk.

Liam stuck out his arm, blocking the luggage cart. “Though I respect what you do, I'm afraid I can't stand here and watch you get our bags. Any gentleman wouldn't.” He reached into his pocket, took out some money, and pressed it into her hand. He shook his head, then nodded toward the driver and asked him to put the bags on the cart. “Heaven, please tell the front desk I don't want the bags in the rooms just yet, and I'd appreciate them holding them behind the counter.”

Heaven heaved and rolled her eyes. “Okay. So . . . would that be just
your
bags? You did say I, not we.” She shook her head and tsked a little. “Don't get me wrong. I'm not slow or anything, but in the hospitality business you have to be specific. Customer service is key . . . that's what they've stressed to me each time I've been suspended for not catering.” She shrugged. “So, are we just holding your bags or both of you guys'? And who takes the blame? 'Cause I'm not.”

Liam smiled. “I like you, Heaven. You're professional and sweet. I can't imagine why anyone would suspend you for lack of catering,” he said sarcastically, laughing a little. Heaven didn't join him; she just stood there. Charly's brows shot up. “You can just have them hold
all
of our luggage—mine and Charly's,” he said, then looked at Charly. “And you can blame it on Charly's assistant.” His eyes moved away, and a smile stretched wide. “Charly, here they are,” he announced when the group of people who'd been calling them finally reached them. “You can work this one out. Dealing with Heaven drained me enough. I'm done working for today.”

Charly waved a fake good-bye to Heaven, who'd already begun to walk off, then smirked at Liam. She thrust her laptop carrier into his chest. “You wish. You are working, assistant. Hold my bag,” she said as low as she could, her eyes moving across the faces of the group. She nodded to them all, then began shaking hands, and signing autographs as she made small talk.

“Here, Charly. Here!” the girl with the cell phone said, thrusting it into her face. “Rory wants you. She couldn't make it here, so she sent me. I'm Kat, her sister,” she said in one breath, handing the phone to Charly.

Charly smiled, then took the phone. She needed to talk to Rory to get the dish on Nia. “Rory, nice to talk to you,” she said.

“What it tiz, Charly, my girl? Sorry I couldn't make it down to meet you, but you know how it is. A sista has things to do, people to see, places to go. I'm tryna get my money up 'cause I gotta get a new celly to replace this dime store phone I got.” Rory greeted her like she and Charly were old friends, and rambled on and on about having a cheap cell phone. Charly almost cringed. Rory's voice wasn't just high-pitched, it was squeaky.

Charly nodded, not knowing how to respond. Rory was clearly different.

“Yo, Charly! You there, sis?” Rory asked. “This stupid dime store phone!”

“Rory? Rory? Can you hear me? I'm here, and I can hear you,” Charly said, holding the phone close to her ear and tilting her head.

“Yeah, sis. I got'cha now. I got everything you need. Trust me, there's nothing or no one I don't know. You can just call me the map and keys to Tallulahville. That said, what's up, sis? What it tiz? I've been blowing my cool waiting to talk to you. I didn't know we'd be working one on one when I nominated my girl, Nia. But I'm glad for the connect. 'Nah mean?”

Charly's eyebrows shot north. She had a live one on her hands, but she could handle it. She'd had plenty of experience with the street, and knew how to converse with all sorts of people. “Yes, Rory. I know what you mean. It's nice talking to you too, and we need to get together soon. I really need to speak to you,” she said, then threw Liam an extrapleasant look and huge phony smile, hoping he'd catch that conversing with Rory was a struggle.

“Sure sis, sure. I got'cha. We need to chop it up. That ain't no thang. It's not like a sista got a lot goings on. I'm just over here chillin' at the love nest.” Rory's explanation was contradictory. Only seconds ago she'd said she was too busy to go anywhere.

Had Rory really just said “goings on”? Charly questioned. And what and where exactly was the love nest? “I'm sorry, what did you say? You don't have a lot to do today, and you're where . . . at a nest?” she asked, hoping Rory would repeat herself.

“To the first question, I'm at the love nest. Ya know, the crib. I'm over here getting my pretty on. And to your second question, it's not like I got a lot goings on. I just need to get my feet did,” Rory answered, matter-of-factly, clearly not realizing she'd mixed up Charly's inquiries.

Charly giggled quietly, then listened as Rory rattled on and on, sounding more uneducated by the second. Before long, she couldn't hold her composure. “Here. Here,” she said. “Please give my assistant your number, and I'll call you later.” She thrust the phone at Liam.

“Me?” he questioned, then rolled his eyes. “You're taking this assistant thing too far. Pass me your phone so I can lock her number in,” he said, then took the call and Charly's cell. He logged Rory's number into Charly's phone book, thanked her, then ended the call. He handed the phone back to its owner, and they both bid her good-bye.

“Whew, that one's a piece of work,” Charly began, still laughing.

Liam elbowed her sharply. “Look,” he said in a loud whisper. His head nodded toward the sidewalk. “Seems your folder contents are wrong. No tools needed.”

Charly looked over to the walk. Her eyebrows rose. “What in the—”

“Heck,” Liam said, saving her from cursing. “That has to be her.”

A girl who looked like Nia walked by them, her head held high. She was surrounded by a few hot guys, who were apparently trying to get at her. Her heart-shaped face was pretty, flanked by shoulder-length black tresses. Her expression was happy, and she was trendily dressed. Charly shook her head. Her mission was failing before she could even start. Charly apologized to the group, then about-faced, making her way to the car. “Liam!” she yelled, then waved her hands to the cameraman and boom guy. “Let's go.”

“Where are you going, Charly?” Liam asked, making his way to her while the two-man camera crew ran to keep up. “We gotta check in to the hotel, scout stores, stay on time and within budget. You know how it goes, and—”

“No, and nope. I'm working on a wish factor—I
wish
I would be stupid enough to just follow the schedule. Didn't you just see her? I'm getting down to the bottom of this. Get in the car. I'm calling Rory back, and we're going to the real source. The mayor's house.”

T
he car pulled into a long drive that had perfectly manicured bushes lining it, and Charly's jaw dropped. Suddenly it was if they were in another world. A huge house met her eyes. It was beautiful in every sense of the word, sitting on top of a small hill.
Majestic
was the only word she could think of to describe it. Charly turned her attention back to her conversation.

“Day, I'm telling you there's a problem,” she said, cutting Mr. Day's name in half. Her phone began making weird noises, forcing her to look at the screen. Her reception was dwindling, she noticed as her bars began to disappear. “We saw Nia. Well, it looked just like Nia. And we've been duped, and I'm not standing for it.”

“Charly! Charly? Can you hear me? Look at the folder—” was all Charly could make out before the call dropped. She looked at her screen again.
NO SERVICE
replaced her reception bars and 4G status. She tossed the phone on the seat, irritated. The same thing happened when she'd called Rory, and she'd thought it was Rory's dime store phone. She needed reception now more than ever.

“Well, love? What did he say?” Liam asked, picking up her phone. He looked at hers, then at his. “Mine is dead, too.”

The car pulled up in front of the house, and Charly's eyes stretched wider. Expensive cars lined the drive and were in the four-car garage that stood as tall as the house. Its doors were opened, and a young guy was inside wiping down the automobiles.

“Uh, is he like a driver?” she asked, now more peeved than ever. First it was the lie about Nia being dowdy, and now they'd been sent to help a family who, obviously, weren't strapped for cash. “What's the point? I thought we were here to help someone who can't help themselves. It looks like they can write a check to fix everything.”

“No wonder the mayor decided to work out of his home in the interim,” Liam said, then opened his car door. He got out, then made his way over to Charly's side, opening her door for her. He scratched his head, then licked his lips. “Calm down, Charly. The mission is still the mission. We didn't specify an income bracket, and the last time I checked, teenagers don't have money, their parents do.”

Charly got out, then looked around. She tossed her hair, slid on her sunglasses, and puffed her attitude. She wasn't one to fall for the okeydoke, and she wouldn't start now. She wanted answers, and someone was going to give them.

“Hello and welcome.” An older gentleman walked out of the house and down the short walk to meet them. “Charly and Liam, I suppose.”

“Check yourself, Charly. Don't snap. There has to be a reason behind all this, just as this guy has to be the mayor. He looks political,” Liam whispered to her through clenched teeth and a pasted-on smile.

Charly flung her hair again, trying to quiet her emotions, but it was hard. Her attitude had an attitude, and she didn't know if she could check two of them. She bit her lip, adjusted her shades, then made herself act like she was happy. The corners of her mouth spread into a wide smile, and she proffered her hand to the mayor. “Thank you for having us,” she greeted. “Can you show us around? I'd love to see the place and get a feel for our mission,” she said.

Liam patted her back like a proud father. “Yes, that'd be great,” he agreed.

The mayor nodded, knowingly. “Sure. I'll have someone show you around for the
mission,
” he said with emphasis, winking. “Also, you'll have to forgive me. The date must've been logged into my calendar wrong. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow, so I was just headed out for a meeting. I must take care of the town you know. That's priority,” he spoke directly into the camera.

Well, that's cheesy,
she thought. “I understand, Mr. Mayor. My priority is to take care of your daughter. Speaking of your daughter, I think there's been a mistake,” she began, then felt Liam's foot press down on hers.

“Yes, we've got work to do. And I have the greatest confidence in you,” the mayor said, obviously missing Charly's statement. “You know I'm a fan of the show. It took a different tone when you became the main female host,” he complimented.

Charly knew his last statement would be edited out because it could be taken as a low blow to the show's concept, which was supposed to be the focus, not the cast. Still, though, she appreciated it. She smiled hard, this time genuine. The mayor was playing it up for the audience, but she didn't expect anything less. He was a politician, after all. She looked around for a second, taking the property in. She wasn't sure what a mayor's income was, but from the looks of things, he wasn't only a government official, he was probably the richest man in town. She turned back to him when something caught her eye. There was someone watching them through the upstairs window. Charly shielded her eyes from the sun to get a better glimpse. A female figure stood in the window, but Charly couldn't make her out. She couldn't tell if the person was young or old or, as she zeroed in more, if she was a she at all. The figure was just too far away for Charly to tell. “Thank you, sir. But about the mission, do you have a sec?”

“I'm afraid not, but we'll talk later.” He extended his hand to her, then turned to Liam.

A car breezed up the drive from behind, its music blasting from inside. Charly shook the mayor's hand, trying to ignore the person in the window and the approaching car, but it was hard. The person in the window seemed to move, and the music's bass was heavy, the vibration sounded in the air, overpowering whatever the mayor was saying to Liam. A Rick Ross remix was playing when the car parked.

The mayor stopped talking, focusing on the car. The passenger door opened, and his lips spread into a smile so warm and loving that everything seemed to go quiet, even the music. “Mya! There you are,” he said.

“Mya?” Liam asked in a loud whisper.

Hands set shopping bags on the ground, then a lone high-heeled strappy sandaled foot met the blacktopped drive from behind the opened car door. “Daddy!” a singsong voice called out, followed by a girl with a pretty heart-shaped face, flanked by shoulder-length black tresses. Her strappy sandals were killer hot, and the rest of her was trendy.

“Mya!” He turned to Charly and Liam. “My daughter,” he informed.

Her,
Charly thought, her eyes meeting the girl she and Liam had seen near their hotel. “Mya, not Nia?” she questioned aloud before she knew it. Quickly, she'd pulled out the folder, and began flipping through it. She didn't know how she missed a main detail. Nia was an identical twin. Immediately, she turned back toward the house, her eyes searching the window to see the person who stood behind it, but it was too late. The curtains swished, revealing no one. From the sudden movement of the window treatments, Charly could tell that whoever it was had just walked away, and she'd bet a dollar to a dime it was Nia.

Liam cleared his throat, and Charly looked at him. His eyes held interest, but she couldn't tell what kind. She turned to Mya, taking her in. Yes, she was much prettier than the pictures of Nia, but she wasn't pretty enough to capture Liam's attention, not in a I-wanna-get-to-know-you way. Charly elbowed him. “Well, well, well. It looks like you may still need my tools,” he said, laughing. He turned to her, raised his eyebrows, then exhaled loudly, silently asking her to follow his example.

Charly breathed, then grinned. She had indeed been holding her breath, a habit she'd developed recently, she noted.

“Ah, it's you.” A voice pulled her attention from Liam. A singsong tone that belonged to Mya.

Charly turned her head and looked into Mya's expressive eyes. Her irises seemed to dance, and her teeth gleamed. She would've been a perfect toothpaste commercial candidate. She nodded, not knowing how else to respond. She was relieved that Mya wasn't Nia, but there was something that she was missing. Even with Mya's singsong voice, twinkling eyes, and beautiful teeth, something seemed empty, missing.
Phony?
“Yes, it's me.” Charly proffered her hand to Mya. “Nice to meet you, Mya. I'm Charly.”

Mya nodded. “With a y. I know.” Her head turned to Liam, and she held him with a gaze for seconds before she spoke. “And you're Liam. Are you going to renovate my space too?” she asked, making Charly want to kick her. She'd put on an innocent face and tone, but Charly recognize a flirt when she heard one, and since the world thought that she and Liam were an item, she felt disrespected.

Charly stepped in front of Liam as leisurely as she could without being obvious. “Afraid not, Mya. Our mission is your father's office, and Liam . . . he's my mission man,” she sang, then turned to the mayor. “Can we go in now?”

The mayor nodded, bid everyone good-bye, then made his way over to one of the cars. He paused. “Take your time, Charly and Liam. The mission you speak of will require a lot of work . . . not in my opinion though. I'm just stating other people's facts,” he said, then got in the car and closed the door.

Charly looked at Liam with raised brows. She couldn't believe what had come out of the mayor's mouth, but it did. She didn't care how he'd dressed up the statement, it was low. “All righty then, Liam. Let's do it.”

“Yes, let's do it, Liam,” Mya said, making her way to the house with bags in her hand she'd managed to retrieve without Charly noticing. “Follow me,” she instructed.

Charly stepped inside and blinked rapidly. Her eyes had to be deceiving her. She looked at Liam, who shrugged, then turned and looked into the living room that was situated to the right of the foyer.
MYA FOR PROM QUEEN
signs were everywhere, and there had to be at least a hundred or more, Charly guessed, taking in the colors and Mya's photo on each one. She turned back around, eyeing the walls of the foyer and the library, which was on the other side. Portraits of Mya lined the walls, and a huge oil painting of her hung dead center on the main one as if Mya were royalty. Charly walked around the space, taking in each picture. Surely there had to be at least one of Nia.

“Wow, summer just began. Getting ready for prom almost a year early?” Liam asked, a bit of a chuckle in his throat.

Mya smiled. “You can never be too prepared . . . especially, when it's expected of you,” she said. Liam raised his brows in question. “You know, as head cheerleader and homecoming queen and mayor's daughter, prom queen is like my rite of passage,” she said, owning her privileges without remorse or apology.

“So you're an only child. It must be nice,” Charly said, hoping Mya would bite. She wasn't sure if Mya knew the real reason she and Liam were there or not, or if she'd heard her mention Nia's name outside, so she decided to test it.

“Most of the time,” Mya said matter-of-factly, moving her hair out of her eyes. “I have a sister, but she doesn't like pictures or people or popularity, just calculus, chemistry, and colleges—just like the colleges like her since she aced her pre-SATs two years before she had to take them. Boring stuff.” She shook her head. “Which is too bad—for me and for her. It makes me always have to be the one out front. That's hard work.” She flashed a smile, then killed it, making Charly question if it were genuine or not. “If you go down that hall, and turn left, you can go through the kitchen to get to my dad's outside office. It's just right off the pool house. You can't miss it. I'd take you, but I have to get ready for a party tonight. My ride will be here before I know it, and being fashionably late may work for parties, but not rides.” She looked at Liam and pointed. “And you . . .” she began, then wagged her index finger at him and Charly. “I mean, you two can come if you want.”

Charly shook her head, passing up the opportunity for them both. “Next time. Are you sure you don't have time to show us out? I really don't like walking around peoples' houses.”

Mya shook her head. “Not my area,” she said, shrugging. “Sorry.”

Charly huffed. “And what does that mean?
Not your area?
” She tilted her head. “We're here to help
your
family, and you say it's not your area? Are you out of your—”

“Good enough, then,” Liam said, interrupting. “We'll find our way.”

Mya gulped. “I'm not being rude. I'm just doing as I was told by my dad.”

“Whatever,” Charly said, then grabbed Liam by the hand, and headed down the hall.

By the time they made it to the office that was adjacent to the pool house, someone was in a window again, and Charly wondered if it were Nia, then changed her mind. Whoever it was had blondish hair, a shade Nia didn't have. She flipped through the folder she had on her to be sure, then shook her head. According to the data the studio had collected on Nia, Nia was all natural. Because she sat holed up in her room, her watching from windows didn't match her personality. It'd been reported that she lived most of life behind her closed bedroom door, only leaving when she had to. The girl was clearly depressed. It didn't take a psychiatrist to figure that one out, Charly thought. She pressed her lips together, wondering who it was that kept watching them.

The water glimmered under the sun, the slight breeze making it wave. Liam shook the office's door handle, then exhaled. “It's locked.”

Charly looked around, admiring the Olympic-sized pool surrounded by flagstone and lush greenery, then smiled, noticing an outdoor kitchen. A real bar set on one side of the pool, and what appeared to be an entertainment station was on the other. “Liam, this isn't a backyard, it's an oasis.” Her eyes moved from the beautiful space up to the window again and met swinging curtains, an indication of someone being there seconds before. “Are you sure it's locked?” she asked.