CHAPTER 25 JESSALYN
JESSALYN
“When I first moved to California, my roommate talked me into taking cooking lessons because she thought the teacher was hot,” Violet said.
“I figured it would be a good way to meet people, plus I had the idea that someday I’d move back to Oakwood Falls and become a housewife.
” She pulled a face. “It didn’t go well. ”
“Which part? The housewife plan? Or the cooking lessons?”
“All of it. I set fire to a baked potato.”
“How?”
“I’m not even sure, and neither was the firefighter who lived in the next apartment. He came running in like a superhero and shot foam everywhere. And obviously the small-town housewife thing didn’t work out either.”
If my hands weren’t covered in flour, I would have pinched myself.
Again. Violet Miller was sitting on a stool, scratching Shiro’s head as she chatted with me about Hollywood and baking and life in general.
And she seemed so normal. Not at all like the uppity diva the gossip websites tended to portray her as.
“Being a movie star beats being a cowboy’s wife, huh?”
“The guy I’d cast as my future husband was a lawyer, which with hindsight, was so much worse than a cowboy.” Another grimace. “If ever you get the chance to date a lawyer, take my advice and don’t do it.”
“I needed that advice six years ago. Guess what my husband does?”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry.”
“He seemed real kind at first. I’d just lost my mom, and he helped me with the wrongful death suit. By the time I realised what kind of man he really was, it was too late.”
“I was so lucky to meet Dawson before I committed to an asshole. He bought the land to build us a house and everything. And now you have Justin, which is an improvement, right?”
“We’re not together. I’m more of a pity project.”
“Hey, don’t say that. It’s only a matter of time.” Violet glanced up as the ad break finished and the news resumed. “Where’s the remote?”
“You don’t like Dax Prescott?”
In recent months, he’d emerged as the frontrunner for next year’s election, with James Harrison struggling to keep up and Ron Perlmutter trailing in a distant third place.
I’d always thought that Dax Prescott came across as too slick, too fake, but the talking heads joked that in America, the only man who could beat a former military pilot to the presidency was a man who’d played one on TV.
“I barely know him, but I spent more time than I want to think about with his girlfriend. Trust me, if he’s dating Mikki Moretz, that definitely calls his judgment into question.”
“Didn’t you make a movie with her? Hidden Intent?”
“Yup. And she can stand there looking all demure in a pantsuit and a crucifix, but I guarantee it’s an act. She’s only pretending to care because she thinks it’ll get her money or fame or both. Probably both.”
“I’m sure my husband donated to Dax Prescott’s campaign.”
“Then you should totally get a divorce.”
“Right now, that’s just a pipe dream. To get a divorce, I’d have to speak to him, and honestly, that terrifies me.”
“I’m not super familiar with the process, but couldn’t you get a lawyer to do that part?”
“To afford a lawyer, I need money, and to get money, I need a job. I want to resurrect my cooking show, but what if Ridge manages to track me down through the internet?”
“Alexa’s sitting in the next room, and she’s the queen of cybersecurity. Ask her to help you.”
“But I barely know her, and she seems super busy at the moment.”
“Okay, maybe wait for the Amie situation to resolve first, but she won’t mind helping. Dawson says taking petty revenge is basically her hobby, even if it’s on behalf of somebody else.”
“Justin said pretty much the same thing.”
“There you go. Once she’s done, Ridge will think you’re in Abu Dhabi or Timbuktu.”
“As long as he doesn’t think I’m in South Korea. My best friend lives there, and I don’t want to cause her any trouble.”
“If she’s anything like my best friend, she’ll take great pleasure in telling Ridge to jump off a cliff, but you can definitely ask Alexa to avoid South Korea. Do you know how to make macarons?”
“I’ve made them a couple of times before. Why?”
“Dawson says Alexa’s obsessed with food in general and European baked goods in particular. How about making macarons for your cooking show? Or we could film this cake?”
“I need to get a tripod.”
“Give me the phone. I can play camerawoman.”
“Really?”
“Most of my experience comes from the other side of the lens, but I’ve picked up a few tips from watching the pros at work.”
It was an amazing offer, but still I hesitated.
“What’s up?” Violet asked.
“I… It’ll sound silly.”
“Well, it’s just the two of us, and I’ve said plenty of dumb stuff in my life. Half of it on camera.”
Same, but Ridge had mostly edited it out, thank goodness.
“I used to love cooking, and when I started my blog, it was an escape, you know? Me teaching my friend Saylor how to make dinner. But Ridge sucked all the fun out of it. And I want to feel that joy again, I really do, but now when I imagine myself cooking on camera, I’m just…paralysed.”
“It’s become a chore.”
“Exactly. Those early videos were chaotic and messy and totally unprofessional, but I enjoyed them. And I don’t know if I can go back to that. What will people think?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes? I mean, there’s even more pressure than before because I need this to be a success so I can rent my own place. I don’t want to outstay my welcome here.”
“Justin isn’t going to kick you out. But we both need a distraction from what’s going on in there.” She jerked her thumb toward the living room. “So let’s make a messy, chaotic video, and if you feel like sharing it later, you can. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“If Amie’s disappearance truly is connected to Blackstone House, then we’ll need more cakes because everyone’s going to be stress-eating.”
I’d been there when Sophy began dredging up the past, and she hadn’t been lying.
“Then I guess I’d better buy more ingredients.”
No, cake wasn’t normally a breakfast food, but this wasn’t a normal Monday morning. Justin was gone. Only temporarily, but that didn’t stop the knot of tension in my belly from growing tighter every time I thought of him sitting on an airplane.
His destination?
Florida.
Brax was travelling with him, which should have offered some comfort, but Alexa telling them to hurry to the airport while Justin was still allowed to leave the state hadn’t helped matters.
Nor had the fact that they were planning to confront the father of a convicted killer.
I reached for another piece of cake.
So did Violet, but then she pushed the plate away and dropped her fork with a clatter.
“No. No, I can’t. I’m supposed to be filming a romantic thriller in six weeks, and there’s a catsuit involved.”
“If it helps, Justin has a gym out back.”
“I hate exercise. Mostly.” Her cheeks reddened, and she flashed a guilty smile. “Okay, working out with Dawson is kinda fun.”
“I’m worried about Justin,” I blurted.
“He has Brax with him. He’ll be fine.”
When Ari confirmed that Liberty Line Investigations had gone out of business, that left us with only one lead—Linus Sykes himself.
I wasn’t sure whether Justin’s decision to confront the man had been driven by anger or fear, but as Dawson tried to talk him out of it, Alexa had gone online and bought him a flight ticket.
“It’s the quickest way to get to the bottom of this,” she said, and I could grudgingly see her point. Although if Amie’s life hadn’t been in danger, I might have been tempted to handcuff Justin to the bannister because I was on the verge of a coronary.
He was on his way to fight a shark. A former Washington lobbyist who’d taken the side of his murderous son.
“Could you pass the whipped cream?” I asked Violet.
Silently, she pushed it across the counter.