Complete Corruption (Corruption #1-3) (20 page)

“Oh dear, what now?” I crossed my arms.

“I got post-production financing!”

“Oh my god! How? Who? What?”

She said the next part so cheerfully, as if painting on a cartoon face. “Scott Mabat.” She did a little jazz hands shake.

“What?” I yelled.

“
Gesu Cristo
!” Antonio exclaimed.

Her knees bent, and her hands went from jazz to
stop.
“I have a plan.”

“This better be good, Directrix.”

“I take the money, start post, and get fresh financing from this German investor who’s been sniffing around. I can keep the energy up, then just pay him off when the German money comes in.”

“That guy”—Antonio pointed—“is a lowlife. Okay? He is worthless shit, and he’s sick in the head. How much did you get from him?”

“Hundred thou,” she said.

Antonio and I groaned.

“That’s what it costs to finish a movie, guys. And that’s cheap. I’m sorry but these are realities.”

“Screw the Germans,” I said. “I’m giving you the money.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’ll pay the note, and you’ll be done with it.” I turned to walk Antonio out. “Come on, I’ll finish with her.”

“Hey, Spin,” called Katrina as I opened the door. “You should come to the wrap party Saturday night. Strong chance of epic.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. The stars were drowned out by the light of Los Angeles.

“You’re coming up with that kind of money?” he asked.

“Yes. My family is well-off. I have a trust, and I can use it for whatever I want.”

He put his fingers on my chin. “I know all about your family. If Scott wants cash, you do not transport it by yourself. And you are not to see him without me. No negotiating.”

“We’re supposed to be a secret.”

“Call him, don’t see him. I’m serious. You don’t know what you’re exposing yourself to.”

I put my hands on his chest. He’d left his jacket upstairs for me, and I felt his muscles through the shirt. “I’ll stay away from all the loan sharks in Los Angeles.”

“Please. I ask only this, please.”

“How are you getting home? You came in my car.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

I pulled away a little, so I could see the entirety of his face. “Don’t feel pressured to answer this question.”

“I won’t.”

“Did she stay gentle? Or did she become cunning and hard?”

“She stayed gentle.”

I didn’t feel right pressing him further. We kissed again, and I let him go.

 movie opening with Daniel seemed like the easiest, most convenient way to make sure Antonio and I didn’t look attached. If he needed us to be a secret as long as possible, a few public sightings with Daniel Brower would do the trick.

—I’m going to a movie with Daniel—

He didn’t return the text. I thought nothing of it. We were in stealth mode after all.

***

Big Girls
was a huge, star-studded drama about a hot-button issue. The script was built for award-winning performances, and the director had a long career of pushing talent to the limit. So even without any car chases, explosions, aliens, terrorists, or trips to outer space, the film had been declared one for the historical lexicon.

I’d noticed the bald man outside the morning after Antonio left, and again when I’d gotten home from set. I saw him through the window, sometimes smoking or poking at his phone. I’d gotten close to him once, just long enough to confirm I didn’t know him and the walking-through-dirt scent of Turkish cigarettes emanated from him. I didn’t mention him to Gerry when I confirmed I’d go to the movie with Daniel or when I met my ex outside the limo door.

I’d ended up agreeing to everything just for the sake of convenience. Even uptight, rich bitches had to deal with parking woes in Hollywood that were ameliorated with a limo.

“You look stunning.”

“No flattery tonight, Dan. I’m just here to keep you from biting your nails.”

He smiled and stopped me before I got in. “There are four guys in there. One is a bodyguard. The other three are going to talk my ear off about the press conference tomorrow.”

“That’s fine.”

“I brought you this.” He out held his hand. In his palm sat my engagement ring. I’d thrown it at him, huge stone and all.

Daniel had scrupulously saved to get me a ring that wouldn’t embarrass him in front of my wealthy family. It hadn’t mattered to me, but it mattered to him. He took me up to the Griffith Observatory on a night when Saturn was close and bright. He helped me onto the apple box as the astronomer showed me how to look into the telescope. There, with Saturn’s rings as close and tangible as they’d ever be, he slipped the ring on my finger and said, “This ring around our world, Tink.”

I picked up the ring. Did he say that? Or did he say,
my world?
Did it matter?

“You don’t have to give it back,” I said.

“The wronged party keeps the ring.”

“No, the one who initiates the break up surrenders it. You would have stayed if I’d let you.”

“Just take it.” He opened the door. “One day, maybe you’ll put it on again.”

I got into the car, holding the ring. There were indeed four men in the back, and they did indeed talk strategy the whole way to the theater. Though I understood what they were talking about and I would have had plenty to contribute before the break up, I felt disconnected. It just wasn’t fun anymore. I was watching animals in the zoo discuss their escape, but I was already outside. I’d moved on.

Cameras flashed, and Daniel answered questions as we entered. I smiled. I’d done it a hundred times, yet I couldn’t believe I’d almost agreed to a life of it.

Right around the middle of the movie, the heroine and her husband had brutal, bruising sex, and I thought of Antonio. I wanted it again. Hard and fast with a side of hair pulling intensity, him grabbing me from behind as if he would tear me apart. When the movie ended and I stood, a drop of warm fluid escaped my underwear and ran down my thigh. I pressed my legs together to stop it.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked as we got into the limo alone. The others seemed to have been dispensed with. “You seem flushed.”

“I’m okay.”

“I meant what I said.” He touched my jaw by my ear, a move that had always made me shudder. “You are beautiful.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m seeing if I lost you,” he whispered, coming close to me.

I pushed him away. “No, Daniel. Just, no.”

“I still love you. You know that.”

I took a deep breath, and said something I never thought would be true. “I’m sorry Daniel. I don’t love you anymore.”

The mood in the back of the limo changed with an almost audible snap.

“It’s him—”

“It’s not.”

“I can bring him up on murder charges tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fuck someone else,” he pleaded. “Fall in love with anyone. Not him. All right? Just not him.”

“It’s over, I told you.”

“He’s a murderer.” He looked as though he immediately regretted saying that. “I have no control around you. You leave, and I fall back into the guy I was because I can’t be that guy around you. God, Tink, you were my valve.”

“Daniel, I—”

“No, stop. Let me explain. I’m going to stick to the issue. This guy, I can’t even say his name right now. That nice peacetime we’ve been enjoying? It’s over as of last week. It started with a fistfight with one of his soldiers, and snowballed into what you’ve been seeing on the news.”

Impassive. I couldn’t let on, not even a little. What we intended to keep a secret in Antonio’s world had to remain a secret in mine as well. Daniel wasn’t above using his position to administrate his personal grudges.

“Daniel,” I said firmly, “do not get distracted. You’re trying to win an office in the second biggest city in the country.”

“Not without you!” His voice got tight and sharp, his litigation voice. The voice of a man with a list of righteous grievances. “He killed Frankie Giraldi and Domenico Uvoli.”

Uvoli. Bells rung, but I kept my face impassive.

“He came here for the men who raped his sister. Two, he tracked down and killed. The third, he’s still looking for.”

Nella. The sister he’d left behind.

“Do you want to know what he did to them?” Daniel asked.

“No.” It felt ugly to be told like this. “Stop it.”

“He castrated them, then he choked them with their own genitalia. In front of the men he needed to take over their businesses. What he did to find them, I can lay it out for you. You’ll never say his name again.”

“Stop it.” I felt filthy hearing things I shouldn’t from a man whose hurt was so apparent. “If you have proof, you need to prosecute. If you don’t, you shouldn’t gossip.”

“It’s not gossip when I’m talking to you—that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The car stopped at the building where Daniel and I used to live together. He looked at the front door, leaning over so he could see up to the eighth floor. Was he homesick? I didn’t have the courage to ask.

He sat back. “When I failed you, you threw me out. I never blamed you, but I’m fighting for you. I’m going to win you back. Hell or high water, Tinkerbell. You’ll be mine again.”

Daniel opened the car for me and led me to the door,
his
door, without another word. I wondered if he could smell the Turkish cigarettes as he walked back to the limo looking more determined than ever.

***

The text came when I was almost asleep, from a number I didn’t recognize.

—Sweet dreams, Contessa. I will see you soon—

I jumped at the phone.

—Come now—

My message bounced. The screen announced that number had been disconnected or was unavailable. I was relieved he’d sent me a text but disconcerted that the number was unavailable. What if I needed him?

I couldn’t sleep. I put my hand under the sheets and slipped it beneath my underwear. I was soaked by just the thought of Antonio. My clit felt as sensitive as an open wound. I felt powerful, furious with desire, and I was going to come. My fingers wanted it as much as my engorged pussy. I counted to twenty, then I came forever, crying out for no one. When I was done, I cupped my pussy and looked at the ceiling, thanking God for the release.

My phone rang. Again, I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

Just breathing. A swallow.

“Antonio?”

No. It was a woman. On the off chance she was on a borrowed phone, I hedged my bets.

“Deirdre? Katrina?”

A sniff.

“Marina.”

Still no answer. Just a weeping woman. What if she was me? What if Antonio was cheating on her? What if I was the mistress this time?

“Are you okay?” I asked. “There’s no point calling if you’re not going to tell me off or something.”

“He’s one of us,” she croaked. “Not you. He’s not one of you.”

“I understand,” I said, even though I didn’t really.

“He thinks...” She choked a little before continuing. “I know him. He thinks you can make him something he’s not.”

“I don’t know what he thinks, Marina. You should ask him.”

She shot out a little laugh that must have soaked her phone in snot. “Maybe
you
should ask him.”

I was about to answer, but she hung up.

magine being cooped up in small spaces with a hundred people in your age group, eight to eighteen hours a day, strictly focused on a project’s completion. Imagine long waiting periods where you talk at length about the project and the most important thing in the world—the state of cinema. Imagine you connect intellectually and spiritually with those people. Imagine you can’t connect physically because you’re so busy.

Now imagine the party at the end of it.

“Honestly, I want to wait to hear from the Germans,” Katrina yelled over the music.

It was the first time she’d been willing to entertain a serious discussion of my offer, and only then because she had a few drinks in her.

Katrina and I had gotten a downtown loft that was between owners for the party. The rental and cleanup were paid for by the last pennies in the budget, and some sneaky dealing on my part paid for a DJ and open bar. People had melded into a simmering mass of hot, wet flesh pulsing with the music. The loft, someone’s future overpriced home, had turned into a nightclub without the safety permits.