Chapter 28
Aday after Doc’s loss, I drive over to the convention center hotel to say goodbye to him. It’s busy in the lobby. A huge group of performers from Brazil, roller bags in tow, arrived on three big buses moments ago.
I saw the signs welcoming their company, but I had no idea there would be so many of them. I keep an eye on the influx as they line up at the front desk, behind a man who seems to be in charge of the entire troupe.
I wave to a few crew members. People from FTW are also buzzing in for the free breakfast served daily in the lobby restaurant. I wish I could hang out with everyone and have a relaxing breakfast. I’ve never been here early enough to partake, but, after seeing Doc, I need to head back to La Vida.
I wave when I see Fonzie eating with Sil. They wave back, and I contemplate going over. Nope. There’s Doc. He walks across the lobby with a porter pulling an overflowing luggage cart behind him.
I throw my arm up high and motion to get Doc’s attention. He smiles. “One second, please,” he tells his porter, handing the man a bill whose value I can’t see.
Closing the distance between us, he sweeps me into a hug. “The one person who isn’t at the hotel was the only person who came to see me off.”
Awkward. “I couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye and telling you how much I enjoyed meeting you.”
“I feel the same, Yolanda. You know, you’re the only person besides me who seemed to not get caught up in the competition. You weren’t playing those petty games.”
Petty games? I’ve heard a bit of that stuff on set, but I think not being here at the hotel helped. “I’ll miss you, Doc.”
He releases me. Deep lines furrow his brow. “You’re a very kind and generous person, Yolanda.” He bites his lip and shifts his eyes toward the restaurant. “Look, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but the reason I left the show wasn’t only my son’s injury.”
“No?”
He leans in. “To be honest, I was already nervous after all that had happened to you—the tires, the bathroom situation, then that incident with your shoe. My son getting hurt made up my mind for me. Nothing is worth this risk. People here are cutthroat. Watch your back.”
“So, you think the things that happened to me weren’t a coincidence?”
“Yolanda.” He lets out a breath. “You’re a little too nice.”
“Why does that sound like you’re calling me naive?”
“I’m not. I’m really not.”
Pero, I think he is, but in a fatherly, concerned way.
“Still, I’m not the only one who thought your illness was convenient, so why am I the only one telling you to watch your back? Has Easton or Parker even mentioned that they’ve hired extra security?”
I’m too shocked by this to say anything. Doc leans over and plants a soft, somewhat dry kiss on my forehead. “The best of rotten luck, Yolanda Vasquez.”
“Thanks, Doc. The best of rotten luck to you, too. Adios.”
Hands tensing at my side, I watch Doc walk out for a long minute, then still, as he waits for a car. The porter packs the trunk, then Doc leaves.
“One less clown to take down.”
I startle and turn to find Eli and Colette.
“Ice queen,” Colette says to Eli, shoving him playfully.
“I’m sad to see him go,” I say, putting a note of reprimand in my voice. How much of this scorn have I missed by not staying at the hotel?
Eli rolls his eyes at me. “Well, sadly, the show can’t go on forever, Rainbow Brite. There’s bound to be losers and…” He rubs his nails against the FTW logo on the chest of his shirt, then blows on them. “Winners.”
His boast almost makes me smile.
“I get that,” I say. “But I can’t help feeling sad when someone I like leaves the show.”
“Ignore him,” Colette says, and when Eli sticks his tongue out at her, she squeezes the corner of his mouth until he laughs. She releases him. “But, let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to have empathy for Doc when you’re guaranteed a spot on the show.”
“What does that mean?”
“She means we’d be gracious, too,” Eli says, “if we were the one Parker was building the whole show around, and also sleeping with the hot man-candy behind this whole proj?—”
“I am not sleeping with Easton Blake,” I say, a little too loudly as my words echo in the lobby and a few heads whip in my direction.
“You’re such an asshole,” Colette says, laughing. She shoves Eli. “Go get us a table.”
“Ciao, biyatches,” he says, blowing Colette a kiss and spinning on his heel. With a bounce in his step, Eli heads toward where Sil and Fonzie are eating. He’s probably going to tell them this whole conversation. Ay.
“Don’t worry about him, Yolanda. He blames you, but it’s not your fault Parker sees ratings gold in your and Easton’s chemistry.”
For a moment, I can’t reply. Yes, I get that basically everyone on this show is a frenemy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think some of the camaraderie was genuine.
In fact, if I’d met a majority of my competition anywhere but on the show, I think we could’ve become friends. Was Doc right? Do I need to take his warning and Mateo’s concerns more seriously?
I finally manage a lame, “That’s unfair, Colette. Parker isn’t building the show around Easton and me.”
“You really think that?” She swishes her jaw around like she’s chewing on something. “What was your one-on-one with Easton?”
I know my eyes widen at the question. “That’s different. Parker wants?—
“Parker wants to get ratings. The whole thing about your eating disorder, no offense, is bullshit. Each of us has to chat with Easton in these one-on-ones, but you’re the only one who had a whole crew go to your home to meet your family.”
I’m also the one who insisted everyone have a one-on-one and the only one whose whole family happens to live in Puerto Rico, but I don’t say any of that. “What did you do for your one-on-one?” I ask, kicking myself for not looking into this earlier.
“East and I roller-bladed around the hotel with a camera following. Then we sat down and spoke”—she points at the restaurant—“over there.”
“That does seem a bit less than what she did for me.”
“A bit.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
Colette grabs my arm. “Don’t be stupid. I mean, talk to her if you want, but leave me out of it. I don’t want to be pigeonholed as the complainer on the show.” She drops my arm then winks. “Especially when Eli fills that role so excellently.”
I smile though I’m feeling pretty crappy about everything I’ve learned today. Did someone purposefully mess with my tires, my drink, and my shoes? Did Parker and Easton hire more security because of what’s happening to me? If so, why haven’t they said anything to me?
Spotting Easton walking through the lobby like a golden god who accidentally plummeted to Earth, I beg off. “I’ve got to… go. Adios.”
“Later.”
I can feel Colette’s eyes on me, and imagine Sil’s, Fonzie’s, and Eli’s gazes on me, as I intercept Easton.
A heart-melting smile breaks across his handsome face when he sees me, but it dies quickly. “What’s wrong?” He reaches for me, then drops his hands.
“Have you hired extra security on the show because of what’s been happening to me?”
“Yes.”
A sting of hurt lances my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rubs his face. “I intended to bring it up when the new security arrived.” Easton ticks his head to the side. “You’re worried about something?”
“Should I be? Doc warned me to watch my back and?—”
“What?” He looks around. “Did Doc mention any direct threat? Where is he?”
“He’s gone. I?—”
“Fuck. Yolanda. I’m assigning you a security detail.”
I splutter for a whole moment over that assertion as shock, anger, and worry ripple up through my chest. “No. You. Are. Not. I have enough issues at my hotel without bodyguards following me, making guests think it’s unsafe.”
“Yolanda.” He grits out my name. “It’s not in my nature to do nothing. Not when someone I care about could be in danger.”
I look over to where Colette has joined the others at a table. They are all watching us. I step back. “We’re attracting attention.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“I do.”
Exhaling a breath of frustration, he says, “Then come to my room. Let’s talk about it.”
“Talk?”
“Fine. I want to put my arms around you. You look worried.”
I am. “No, Easton. We can’t do one thing in public if we’re touching in private.”
A smile kicks up the corner of his mouth. “Touching privates is kind of what I had in mind.”
Despite everything, I burst into laughter. I shake my head. “We agreed. Keeping a wall between us keeps us both safe. What’s happening to me is nothing compared to what you could lose.”
Anger flashes across his face. “Me being ousted from my company can’t take precedence over your safety. It doesn’t. Not for me.”
I cross my arms defensively. “Do you remember what you told me on the roof during our night? You said that my family had made their fears for me more real than their faith in me, and, in so doing, they diminished me. Right now, you’re doing the same thing. I can take care of myself.”
He rolls his lower lip into his mouth, bites, then releases it. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he says, “That works both ways, Yolanda,” before storming off.