Chapter 12
TWELVE
Alani
Totally exhausted, I step into the hallway and make it back to my room.
I collapse in a chair at the desk, my mind whirling from listening to Isabelle.
The woman is desperate for attention. It seems to me the shine went off her in Hollywood and she no longer gets offers for any roles whatsoever.
This alone gave her the idea to get her memoirs written to bring her back into the public eye.
Not one word of what she told me is anything about her family or how she met Linc.
She didn’t even mention the children until I prompted her about them.
She promised to save the juicy details about meeting Linc and the birth of her children, although she had mentioned a few things, most I’d gleaned from our breakfast meeting and the brief conversation with Lucas.
There’s one thing I need to follow up on and that’s when she hit the headlines claiming that someone had kidnapped Mia on the night of her high school prom.
The thing is, I went to the prom and I don’t recall anything happening that night at all.
The spread in the newspapers on the following Monday had been a complete surprise.
It’s an interesting story I need to dig into to discover the facts.
I set up the recorder on the desk, put on my headphones to listen to the interview again, fast forwarding past the boring bits.
Unfortunately, Isabelle’s story is exactly the same as just about everyone else I’ve interviewed for memoirs.
It’s funny how they all have impoverished starts in life or come from abusive childhoods and needed to work bussing tables to get by while they waited for callbacks from auditions.
Unfortunately, when it comes to Isabelle, it’s all lies.
Living in this community, I’ve heard many stories of how Linc got her a part in a movie by investing in it. It wasn’t her talent, that’s for sure.
The majority of people in the world don’t have a career handed to them on a silver platter, they work darn hard to get where they are, so her story isn’t very interesting.
I will lose readers on the first chapter if I dish up this garbage.
When I consider the biographies written about some of the famous stars, especially those in the 1930s and 40s, the scandal of the casting couch was rife.
What it came down to was how low a person could stoop to get a walk-on role in a movie in the hope that it would skyrocket their career.
Those stories people like to read, and anything about affairs, scandal or hidden secrets—or a child that suddenly pops up out of the blue.
The last rock star I wrote about told me that he couldn’t remember half the people he slept with so if any child happened to arrive on his doorstep, he was more than willing to take a DNA test to clear up any misunderstanding.
Those types of stories and any dirt the personality can dish up about people in the business is more what I’m looking for.
To make her story a bestseller she needs sensationalism and bussing tables in a greasy spoon won’t do it—especially as at the time Linc was making millions.
There’s a knock on my door and before I can open my mouth to say anything it flies open and Mia walks inside and flops into a chair.
I can’t find any excuse for Mia’s rudeness or disrespect for my privacy.
Being wealthy isn’t a reason either. My parents are wealthy and I was raised to have respect for other people.
So I finish the note I’m making and then look up slowly at her.
“Hi, is there anything I can do for you?”
“How did your interview go with my mom?” Mia pulls her feet onto the chair and wraps her arms around her knees. “What did she tell you about me?”
The idea of getting a start on the first chapter of the book disintegrates and I drop my pen on the table and swivel the chair around to look at her.
“She did mention someone kidnapped you at the high school prom. I would like to interview you sometime to talk about that incident. I’m sure your mother would like to have a chapter on each of her children in the book. ”
“Really?” Mia gives a sarcastic laugh and rolls her eyes. “Do you believe she would like the world to know all about her naughty little children?”
I shrug. “Sensationalism sells books.”
I wonder why Mia needs to wear a ton of makeup for lounging around the house.
Thick lines of eyeliner wrap around each eye and her eyelashes are so long they almost touch her eyebrows.
I watch as she examines me, her gaze shifting back and forth as if trying to estimate what I’m thinking.
She’s my age and yet has been a patient of my father’s for some years now.
He doesn’t say anything to me but I know he drops by to administer Botox and fillers for Isabelle and Mia.
On one of my infrequent visits, he asked me to collect boxes of injectables from his office after a frantic phone call from one of them.
They expect him to drop everything and run on over.
I know they pay him a fortune for his personal attention, so I guess he believes it’s worth it as he lives close by.
I turned twenty-five last birthday and I don’t feel that I need Botox or anything else but I must admit, up-close Mia could easily pass for eighteen.
I’ve been around women who endeavor to resemble people in TV shows or movie stars all my life.
I personally find it quite ridiculous, maybe because my father is one of the top plastic surgeons in the country and I could literally change my entire appearance if I had the urge.
My pause in the conversation is upsetting her and she stares at me, her eyes wild.
“Oh Lord, she’s told you all our dirty little secrets, hasn’t she?” Mia’s hands tighten around her legs and she rocks back and forth. “She promised she wouldn’t.”
Is she playing games with me? I shake my head.
“My first interview with your mother was all about how she started in the business and up to her first movie. It seems I have another seven movies to go. She didn’t mention either of the boys or even her husband.
She only mentioned you briefly because I pushed her for something the readers might want to know that she’d kept secret.
She mentioned the kidnapping. Do you want to discuss it?
It must have been a very traumatic time in your life. ”
“This is what I mean.” Mia lifts her arms high and snaps her fingers together.
“She makes things up to get attention. Nobody kidnapped me. I left the prom with my boyfriend and we went with a group of friends to spend the weekend at his house while his parents were on vacation.” She giggles.
“We had a ball. Then when my boyfriend dropped me home the entire blacktop is filled with TV broadcasting vans and reporters are sticking microphones at me. It was a nightmare for weeks.” She shakes her head.
“Mom claims to have received a ransom note. Of course, it was a hoax and one she manufactured. Trust me, she knows the meaning of sensationalism. Personally, I find it pathetic.”
No wonder I hadn’t heard or seen anything about a kidnapping. I frown. “Didn’t you call her to tell her where you’d be?”
“Yeah, I told her before the prom but she claims I never spoke to her. Dad was away on tour and when he came back, he went ballistic. I explained and he took my side. Mom didn’t care; she’d gotten the media coverage she craved.
” She snorts. “It took me years to live that down and if it’s in the book it will make me look like an idiot. It will be déjà vu all over again.”
I tap my pen on the table after making a few notes.
What she is telling me is the complete opposite of Isabelle’s recollection.
Which one of them is lying to me—and why?
“The story she gave me was one of concern but you’ll have enough time to speak to her before she says anything that you don’t want in the book.
Before I send the finished product to my publisher, everyone in the family will have a chance to read the manuscript.
If there is anything you don’t want made public, I’ll make every effort to remove it, pending Isabelle’s approval of course.
The rules about writing this type of book is that we don’t lie about people, or defame them in any way.
There’s not much point to writing a memoir and then spending the next ten years in court if we upset someone.
” I lean back in my chair. “Do you want to tell me what it was like being raised in this family?”
“Why not?” Mia relaxes a little. “I might as well get it over with so I can sleep at night.” She drops her legs and leans back in the chair.
I smile at her. “Just give me a minute to download the interview onto my laptop. I like to record everything so I don’t make a mistake.”
“No, just take notes.” Mia frowns and her long, black painted fingernails dig into the plush pink leather chair. “Recordings are dangerous. People can use them against you.”
My ears prick. There’s a story here and I need to hear it. I lean forward trying to make it more confidential between us. “Okay, notes it is. What do you want to tell me?”
“Do you know everything you do here is monitored?” Mia’s mouth curls into a smile. “There are guards in a control room twenty-four seven who watch everything we do.”
I nod slowly. “That’s usual. There are surveillance cameras in my home as well. My father has the security for our own protection. There are a lot of crazy people out there.”
“I don’t believe my dad knows how many cameras there are in the house.
He only sees what he wants to see.” Mia points to a small dot on the wall.
“That, my dear Alani, is a camera. My dad figures the cameras are in the hallways and the front and back doors just in case anyone breaks into the house. He has no idea that my mother keeps everyone under surveillance all the time, even in their own private spaces.”
I glance nervously at the camera above my head and see a speck the size of a pea embedded in the middle of the room at the top of the wall right opposite my bed. “Don’t you have security officers watching the footage twenty-four hours a day like we do?”
“Here’s where things get creepy.” Mia’s eyes narrow as she looks at me.
“Mom has her own feed. She believes no one knows about it but it’s inside a special room that’s always locked.
She told me it’s where the safe is, so I took her keys and had copies made.
I found the damn room and saw what she had on tape on just about everyone we know who stayed here at one time. ”
I stare at her. Why is she telling me if her mother is listening to everything we say? “Well, it’s no secret now, is it?”
“Well actually, what we’re saying at the moment is safe.
” Mia giggles and squeezes my arm. “You see, Oliver is an IT expert and when I told him about the surveillance he wasn’t impressed.
He took your room offline the moment he discovered that Dad had insisted you take this room.
He has also taken our rooms offline—as in us kids.
He managed to get into the system and do so much damage that my mom can’t repair it without getting someone from the outside to look at it.
She won’t risk Dad discovering what she’s up to. ”
I shake my head wondering if I can believe a word she’s saying. “Do you figure she’s capable of blackmailing her friends?”
“With my mother, anything is possible.” Mia met my gaze. “Don’t trust her. She is watching everything you do.”