Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) (12 page)

BOOK: Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2)
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“Okay Rena, now you just sound like a crazy person.” I rest my head on the headrest and close my eyes. “Damn, those frozen accounts are going to bite us in the ass.”

             
“Maybe not. Laura was just burned out of her home. She’s probably with family right now; she isn’t paying for a thing. I bet she hasn’t even used her debit card yet. Plus it’s Saturday, she’s not checking her stocks. No, everything will be fine until tomorrow. As soon as we get to Baton Rouge, we’ll check into our hotel, I’ll go to their business center, log into my job’s portal and unfreeze her accounts.”

             
I don’t know … I’m feeling some kind of way about this. This entire thing is imploding right before us and I really do think the best thing to do is to let Malcolm handle this. If we head back to Boston, he’ll fix everything, clean it up and no one will ever know about my indiscretion. I
so
want to tell Rena that right now.

             
“Don’t worry about the accounts.” Rena says. “Laura’s probably lost everything in that fire. She’s running around right now trying to salvage her life, dealing with her insurance company, getting in contact with family and telling them she’s okay. She hasn’t even thought about those accounts. As a matter of fact, she hasn’t used her bank card because they were probably burned in the fire!” Rena smiles. “Yes, exactly! Everyone is footing her bills right now, if she needs anything. It’ll be fine.”

             
“But the last time I talked to Malcolm he said that no one could find her. She could still be out there roaming the streets and if she is, she’ll need money.”

             
“Oh please! Laura Rossi is not roaming the streets. Believe me, she’s with a friend and her bank accounts are the furthest thing from her mind.”

             

 

 

Laura

12:30 a.m.

 

               To Do List:

  1. Catch a flight to Hilton Head.
  2. Meet with Danielle.
  3. Receive my book advance.
  4. Publish my diary.
  5. Mani-Pedi.

             

Dear Danielle,
             

Oh you just should have been there! It was so funny! I hope I
can capture the entire scene with words (see I’m a bit of a book-girl myself, I’m a writer). By the way, I’m in bed at my hotel writing this and someone has just banged on the wall because I’m laughing so hard. But this story is hysterical!

             
I went to see
Friend
right after I ended my letter to you. I just called Friend and said ‘meet me outside in twenty minutes’. Anyways, when I got there Friend looked at me like
they
had seen a ghost. (Ah, ah, ah, I know you were expecting me to say
he
or
she
, but that would take the fun out of things. I want you to know how it feels to not be able to trust the very people you call family; the very people you call friends. Who’s about to betray you Danielle? Who’s about to help me with this? Who? Maybe you’ll find out or maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll live your entire life in fear of someone close to you, having no problem betraying you.)

I’m going to recount the conversation word for word, something I’m good at, which is why my diary will be a bestseller; I remember everything.

              “Yes, it’s me, Laura Rossi.” I said to Friend with a smile, when they appeared outside. I’ve been saying that greeting to people for years. I like to say it because it rhymes. Every morning I’d say it to Malcolm when he was seated in the kitchen eating bacon and drinking coffee before work.
I left a Lithium pill and a water glass on the bedside table. Did you take it?
He’d say without looking up from his cell phone. When I was younger, I’d wake up in the morning before school, enter the kitchen and say it to my family.
Stop acting silly Laura,
my mother always said as she buttered her toast.
I’m missing twenty dollars, have you seen it?
My dad always asked as he threw his newspaper on the kitchen table. (I used to steal twenty dollar bills when I was younger.)
Oh
god, you made it through the night,
Lola would say, while browsing through The Globe’s
society
section. So when I saw Friend, I gave them my standard greeting.

             
“Yes, I know.” Friend said from the doorway. “What the hell do you want?”

             
“I need a favor.”

             
“Excuse me?”

             
“A favor.”

             
“You’re joking.”

             
“No. Why would I show up here to tell you a joke? I just would have told it to you over the phone.”

             
“What do you want?”

“A favor.

             
“I get that! What is it!”

I knew that this was going to be hard, considering that Friend was looking at me like I was a mad woman, so I immediately brought out
the picture
and held it up for Friend to see. Friend looked at it, studied it and then eased their eyes up to me. “What the hell do you want?” Hook … line … sinker.

             
“Money.” I answered. Friend said nothing, just waited for me to continue. Friend has a lot of money, just like the rest of you. The Rossi family is the only ones who look like kings but live like paupers. Just think about it, how would my father know that one measly twenty dollar bill was gone out of his wallet, if he had a stack of them?

“How much?” Friend eventually asked
.

“Well Malcolm would give me $250,000 a year.” Friend’s eyes nearly fell out of their head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Isn’t he a nice guy? I swear, he’s one of the best.
That’s when he’s not trying to kill you.”

“A quarter of a million dollars, you’ve got to be crazy.” Crazy. Oh, I hate that word.

              “I’m not crazy, I’m disturbed.”

             
“Yeah Laura, you’re something.
That
we can both agree on.”

             
You see Danielle, by the very definition of the word crazy, I wouldn’t be included in that category. Crazy means you were born that way. Disturbed means that someone made you that way. Listen to the definition of crazy: mentally derangement that’s carried out in a wild and aggressive way. Look at me. I’m just asking Friend for a favor. Now look at the definition of disturbed: having had normal pattern or function disrupted. Doesn’t that explain what happened between Malcolm and me? Wasn’t he the disruptor? Did he not disturb me?  Our life? Our plans? Yes, I am disturbed.

             
“I’m disturbed.” I say again, to make sure Friend gets it.

             
“Uh, huh.” Friend shakes their head in agreement.

             
“Thank you. Now, the $250,000 will hold me over for a year and by the time it’s gone, I’ll have a book deal.”

             
“What the hell are you talking about?”

             
“Oh, I’m getting ahead of myself. I need both your money and your assistance.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“I plan on selling Danielle the rights to this diary.” I unbuttoned my coat, and exposed the diary that was strapped to my stomach with a scarf. It’s too valuable to lose. “In here are all the gory details of the Blair, March and Rossi families. In here, is ten years’ worth of stories and cover-ups and clean-ups. This will be a bestseller, so I want Danielle to publish it.”

             
“What in the hell makes you think that she’ll give you a book deal instead of just telling Malcolm on your ass?” I was so happy Friend was smart enough to think of that.

             
“Oh, I’m impressed! You know what, from now on you’re my agent.”

             
“You’re insane.”

             
“Disturbed.” I reminded Friend. “So this is how this is going to go, I want you to get me a meeting with Danielle. I need to get her alone, to discuss the specifics of my deal.”

             
“Which are?”

             
“That she will give me a book advance and publish my diary as a novel or I’ll shop it around and publish it as a biography. Of course, if she publishes it as a novel, we’ll change the names, places and the specifics to protect the guilty. That way we both win; her new friends and family are protected and I’m financially taken care of.” I flashed Friend a smile. “If only you knew the stuff that’s in this thing … trust me, you can’t make this shit up. All I need from her is a hefty advance, in the millions-of-dollars range … yeah, that sounds about right.”

             
“A ‘millions-of-dollars’ book advance? You’re out of your mind. You just don’t get a ‘millions-of-dollars’ book advance!”

             
“Well of course the money will come from Malcolm, duh.” I walk closer to Friend to whisper in their ear. “I’m really just bribing and extorting money from Malcolm, but I can get in trouble for that legally, so I need to cover my tracks and file that money on my taxes as income, hence the book advance cover-up.” I back away and smile at Friend. “See, aren’t I smart?” Friend says nothing, giving me no credit where credit is due. “But if Danielle doesn’t publish this, I always have your money to fall back on for at least a year. I think I can find a willing publisher within that time, especially when I market this diary as a Blair, Rossi, March biography … with pictures.” I wiggled the picture in front of Friend again and winked. “Just go to Barnes and Noble, all the best biographies have pictures in them. But this picture will probably put my book in the Rated-R section.” Now was I laughing but Friend looked like they had seen a ghost … a ghost from the past. “Oh and don’t worry, I found some other pictures in my diary as well, some really good ones. But they aren’t as shocking as this one. Can you imagine how many lives this one picture will affect? Look at the date here at the bottom. Yeah, this picture is sure to touch a few lives.” I wiggled the picture in front of Friend again and smiled. Friend didn’t smile back but I can tell they were sold.

             
“I’m not giving you a dime without a contract.”

             
“Smart, because I can take your money and still publish the picture. I get it.” Friend is really smart Danielle. “So, write up a contract, we’ll sign it in front of a notary and all will be well. But for the time being, I need some cash.” I reached my hand out for Friend.

             
“I don’t carry cash on me Laura.”

             
“No problem, we’ll meet at the Starbucks on Tremont St. tomorrow, say, one-ish?” Friend rolled their eyes, breathed heavily, shook their head and then looked me square in the eyes.

             
“Fine.” They said, but they didn’t look happy while saying it.

             
“We’ll talk about the specifics over coffee.”

             
“Specifics?”

             
“You’re my agent, remember? You have to get me a meeting with Danielle. I went to her condo and they rang her but she wasn’t there. So I plan on going with you all to Hilton Head for a week. Don’t say a thing to Danielle until you and I discuss the conditions of my book deal. Saying anything to her about this, before I tell you the specifics of our arrangement, will lead to the immediate publication of this picture. Understood?”

             
“Fuck you.”

             
“Oh and don’t worry about me not being able to get on a plane with no ID, I’m Laura Rossi, I don’t need ID. That’s what the bank teller said. Therefore, I need plane fare. Also, you should pay for my hotel as well. I’d like to stay at the one on the resort. However, that should
not
be deducted from the $250,000. As my agent, you should pick up my transportation and lodging tab as well as my dining expenses.”

             
“This is insane! Why can’t you just mail the book to Danielle’s?”

             
“You think that I would put something this important in the
mail
? You’ve got to be crazy. Anyways, meet you tomorrow at one.” I said before turning around.

             
And that’s how it was done. I made $250,000 and acquired an agent in just five minutes. Not bad huh, Danielle?

 

Love,

Laura “The Shark” Rossi

 

             

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2)
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