Chapter 10
Sol
They’d just finished having dinner together at the apartment when Sol found herself taken by one of her bad mood bouts and she resolved it was all Luke’s fault. Sudden perhaps, but that was the way she was: capricious. And age—and perimenopause—seemed to be making her even more volatile.
“So you’re really not gonna tell me anything about this case of yours, eh?” She made her feelings known.
“What do you mean?” He’d started clearing the table and stopped midstride through the kitchen area. His expression went blank. He looked like he had no idea what she was accusing him of. That managed to enrage her even more.
“You’ve been an absolute bore all dinner. Not a word about your investigation.” Her voice went high.
He left the dirty plates back on top of the table, as if bracing for an argument. “An absolute bore?” His eyes fixed on hers with defiance.
“You’d barely said ten words all dinner!” She stood up to be closer to eye level with him.
He raked his fingers through his dark, wavy hair. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied about the case.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s exactly what I’m complaining about. You’re worried, yet you tell me nothing.”
“I didn’t want to bore you with the case!”
“You bored me by not talking about the case!” Perhaps she was being a bit too harsh but she wanted to know what he’d found out. She was becoming more interested in what he was investigating and didn’t want to be excluded. She wanted to help him—to contribute.
It had been incredibly frustrating writing her profile on Leonardo Pascual that day, hinting at his disappearance and yet not being able to provide any answers as to what had happened to the actor.
Since she’d started having a relationship with a private detective or since she’d started writing crime fiction, something had changed in Sol’s brain—and now she needed to chase the answers.
Or perhaps she’d always been like that and she was realizing only now.
But she somehow craved the fulfillment and closure in solving a puzzle, in deciphering a mystery.
“Last time you got involved in one of my cases, you didn’t have such a great time, remember?” Luke countered.
She was about to protest but recalled her experience in helping Luke and Divya to catch a very sympathetic killer when they were in Los Angeles.
At the time it had been emotionally draining.
She’d even promised never to get herself mixed up in one of their cases again.
Of course, she’d already forgotten about it.
“I’d still like to be involved in this case. If you want me—”
Luke sat back at the table, pointed to the chair in front of him so that she’d also sit.
“We talked to Moon today,” he said. His manners were relaxed yet there was a hint of dissatisfaction in his posture.
Perhaps it was the hunch of the shoulders or the constant raking of his hair with his hand.
“They didn’t want to tell us what the bloody show Leonardo is doing next is going to be about. ”
“They made Moon sign an NDA, uh?”
The surprise on his face made it clear: he didn’t expect Sol to know about the NDA. “Is it really such a common practice?”
“I don’t know if common…but with certain kinds of titles, it’s perfectly normal.”
He remained silent for a few seconds. Looking at her, as if trying to read her. “And you’re sure you don’t mind me—and Divya—grilling you for information?”
“I just told you it’s not a problem.” Plus they’d never actually grilled her. They were always considerate, and polite.
“Right. Sorry I was a bore during dinner. I was just thinking,” he finally conceded and his shoulders loosened at last. “Like I said, Divya and I talked to Moon but they refused to tell us about the show until they spoke to Mesflixx’s legal department. We were quite appalled.”
“Of course they didn’t talk to you until they spoke to legal.
Their career was at stake!” This had to be at least the fourth or fifth case the Bakshi & Contadino Agency took that had ties to the entertainment business.
Yet Luke and Divya still found some common practices bizarre.
It was clear to Sol that they needed her help.
Now more than ever. The life of Leonardo Pascual could be in danger—and they continued to be clueless when it came to showbiz.
Luke sighed. “After a couple of hours of back and forth with lawyers, Moon finally called us like an hour ago ready to talk. They told us that Leonardo was set to be the star in a dramedy where he’d play the dad of a teenage daughter. Leonardo’s character is a widow.”
“Yeah, that’s all public information.”
He blinked at her, baffled. “Are you kidding me?”
“Afraid not. What else did Moon tell you? I’m sure they didn’t bother their legal department just to tell you something you could have read on the trades—or just asked me about it.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They told us that the show shoots in London, which I suppose you already knew as well.”
“I do. Give me something we didn’t know…”
He smiled, as if entertained by her sudden sleuthing skills. “Would a title count?”
“Absolutely, even if I don’t know how that’s gonna help us find Leonardo.”
“Us, uh? I don’t know either but it’s how things work in this profession. You gather as much information as possible. Some of it will be irrelevant, some of it will be misleading, but then some of it will be instrumental for solving the mystery.”
Her face probably lit after hearing those words. “Can I have the detective in the book I’m writing next say exactly that?”
His dark eyes pinned her in place. “I thought you were trying to help me, not that you were trying to help yourself write a book.”
“Can’t I do both?” She’d quit pouting and was now openly flirting.
“As long as nothing and nobody is recognizable in your book—I suppose you can. And I should probably add, this is all off the record.” His grin was irresistible—but he knew it.
“Awe, how do you know you should always say that when talking to a journalist about something you don’t want to see published?”
“You told me, cara.”
There was not much Sol Novo liked more than some sharp back-and-forth banter with her lover—sex perhaps—but banter was a close second.
“So, title?”
He stood up from the table, rummaged through the things he’d left on top of the console table at the entrance, and opened his notebook. Sol suspected he was being deliberately slow in his searching. He was aware that she was glued to the chair waiting for an answer.
“And this is off the record?” He had the gall of telling her again, his mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
“Of course it is and you know it!” She slapped his arm, playfully.
“I need to ask because I wouldn’t want Meshflixx’s lawyers breathing down my neck. They sound like a scary lot.”
“Stop stalling. What’s the title?” She was practically beaming. He had that effect on her.
“The Single Dad Situation.” He shrugged his shoulders as if not getting it.
“It’s perfect. They’ll have lots of success.”
Luke gave her one of his skeptical eyebrow arches. “Will they?”
“I mean, with that title and Leonardo Pascual. Unless the show is awfully written, it should be a hit.”
“That’s if we find him.” Luke’s voice dropped, even though they were alone. He was about to tell her something relevant. “But if we don’t, there’s no show.”
“But of course you’ll find him!” She was almost way too flippant but she still couldn’t allow herself to believe something bad had happened to Leonardo.
Not when she’d been chatting with him about nighttime skincare routines and the ridiculousness of method acting mere hours before he’d disappeared.
“Even if we do, there are some messy conditions in the show’s financing,” Luke said.
That was probably what had made Moon extra careful when disclosing details about The Single Dad Situation.
“According to Moon, it was hard to get it done. The show only got the green light after Leonardo signed on as the titular single dad and after the showrunner agreed to an extremely tight writing and shooting schedules.”
If Leonardo didn’t appear in time, The Single Dad Situation risked never getting made.
“Is the showrunner Jasper Fairbanks?” Sol asked, her eyes closed while she tried to recall everything she’d read about Pascual’s upcoming show.
“I think that’s the name Moon mentioned, yes. Why do you ask?”
“He’s a bit of a wild card. His first show was very criticized when it first was announced.
He’s your typical Angeleno nepo baby. His parents are both prominent figures in the industry.
But then the first season of the show was an absolute smashing success, and the criticism quieted.
That’s until he proved he couldn’t actually produce any other season of that show.
The second show he did years later flopped.
Nobody watched it and the critics hated it.
They had a blast writing about all the reasons why Jasper Fairbanks is an inept showrunner. ”
Luke checked his notes. “Moon told us he’d developed—whatever that means—this show himself. Written all of the season alone. Is that unusual?”
“A bit. Not unheard of by any means.”
“Apparently this is a very personal project for him. Not quite sure why. Is he a single dad?”
“Not really. But he’s single in the sense that he’s been divorced at least three times and not currently married,” Sol attested. “Not that I’m being judgy or anything.” She shot her hands in the air.
“In this house we don’t judge divorcées, cara.” His coarse voice was enveloped in sweetness.
“You don’t. But sometimes I feel like I do.” There, she said it.
“Well, you shouldn’t.”
He caressed her face and she decided he was right.
“I told you this morning we’d have to discuss that extremely appalling double standard of yours.” He leaned toward her, his lips at her nape as his arms caged her. “You were practically naked.”
“I was.” Sol shuddered. She was so glad the day was finally over.