Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Rikki
Julie Larimore’s cell phone was missing, but someone had used it to call Bobby Warren.
He told us she’d said she was coming back to Killer Body, but I’m not sure how much was fact and how much was hope fueled by alcohol.
Lucas insisted we postpone the interview, and when I asked if the Killer Body spokesmodel search was still on, I got only tears from Bobby Warren.
I don’t think I could live in Santa Barbara.
There’s something wearing, even decadent about constant perfection of climate and scenery.
On the way back to my hotel yesterday, I stopped about one-thirty at a Trader Joe’s to pick up a sandwich.
My choices were roasted red peppers or turkey bacon, lettuce and tomato.
They worked for me, but I wonder how they’d play outside this comfort bubble that Princess Gabby calls “so California.” Outside the store, I saw a bearded will-work-for-food guy, sign in hand, drinking a bottle of carrot juice.
Even the street people here are politically correct.
I told Hamilton that on the phone, when he called from his car, and it made him laugh, not always an easy task. I felt glad he was coming, not only because we needed to compare notes, but because in this world of faces, figures and fitness, I missed the everyday reality of him.
I was up half the night, reading through the reams of material he and I collected on Killer Body.
Interview after interview with Julie Larimore, transcripts from talk shows, Q’s the sound continued.
God, this was good. Another hour and the eggs would be history. She needed to get some extra time in now. Once Megan got here, she’d be under scrutiny, but at least she’d have her baby. She’d know she was safe.
A chill touched her slippery arm as if someone had tapped her. She wasn’t alone in this dim room. She slowed her pace, trying to glance over her shoulder. A shape filled the door between the garage and the kitchen.
“Damn it, Jesse. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Haven’t you been at it long enough?” The noise of the treadmill gobbled his words. He was on edge, too, had been since she’d shown him what had come in the mail.
“When I need another personal trainer, I’ll advertise for one.”
“I thought you might be interested in knowing I got you a part.”
“A part? Why didn’t you say so?” She jumped from the treadmill and threw her arms around him. “Oh, baby, you are the best.”