The Bracelet (7 page)

 

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

S
ister Mary Noelle bowed her head and knelt in the chapel of the Monastery of the Angels. Her fingers rubbed her rosary beads as she murmured the Hail Marys along with the voices she could hear praying on the other side of the screen that separated the chapel's two parts—one for the cloistered sisters and one for the laypeople who came to pray. They asked for various things: a job, the restoration of a damaged relationship, a cure for a sick child, a miracle.

She couldn't see them, and they couldn't see her.

Sister was aware that this was the most secular night of the year. Outside the monastery walls, traffic buzzed along the Los Angeles freeways. People were heading off to an evening of partying and drinking, often to excess. Glamorous clothes and makeup, gyrating bodies, bright lights, dreams of being discovered by modeling agents or casting directors beckoned.

For Sister Mary Noelle, the beckoning had come from Christ, when he asked her to “Come follow me.” That beckoning had led her to the contemplative life of a cloistered nun. She had completed her two years as a postulant, taken her simple vows, and was now a novice extern sister, with two more years until she made her final vows.

It was a life she would never have imagined for herself as she grew up just a few miles away, the daughter of a successful plastic surgeon and a former model and actress. She and her sister had lived a beautiful life, in a beautiful home, and they'd gone to private schools where they socialized with other beautiful people. She grew up thinking that was just the way it should be. She had been proud of her father and the things people said about him, the way they raved about his work and declared him a miracle worker. The magazine articles about the spa he had founded touted his “magic hands.” The tabloids speculated on various movie stars for whom her father had turned back time. Occasionally she'd overheard her father telling her mother about the actor or actress who had come to Elysium looking to be transformed in order to revive a flagging career.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Sister Mary Noelle's lips moved, but barely a whisper came out of her mouth. She prayed for her dear father, her beloved sister, and her deceased mother.

Sometimes through the greatest pain came the greatest blessings. If her mother hadn't died of a heart attack after cosmetic surgery, Sister Mary Noelle might never have rejected the empty pursuit of physical beauty. She might never have discovered what was truly important. She might never have become Sister Mary Noelle.

 

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

B
efore she dressed for the party, Piper took a minute to Google the name Jillian Abernathy. The most recent links were to articles about the acid attack. They recounted that a woman, hired to clean the house, had opened Jillian's front door thinking she'd be accepting delivery of a gift for her employer's upcoming wedding. The victim was unable to provide a description of the attacker, recalling only that she did catch a glimpse of a pair of aviator sunglasses and a blue cap before the acid was thrown in her face.

Esperanza Flores, thirty-one, was quoted from an interview conducted in her hospital room. “I couldn't stop screaming. My face was on fire. The worst fire you can imagine.”

The case remained unsolved. As Piper searched further, she came upon older stories. One headline read
BUSINESS MAJOR HITS THE GROUND RUNNING
. The article explained that immediately after graduation from USC, Jillian had taken over as director of Elysium, replacing Hudson Sherwood. Sherwood had been Elysium's director since the spa was founded by Jillian's father.

Nepotism at its best,
thought Piper.

There were several articles about Elysium in which Jillian was quoted. All of them seemed to be puff pieces, listing the fabulous treatments and amenities offered at the spa. Piper noticed that little mention was made of the cosmetic surgery done there.

Piper was about to log off when she spotted one last thing. It was a death notice that had run in the
Los Angeles Times
several years earlier. It listed Jillian Abernathy as one of the two daughters of Caryn Abernathy, formerly the actress Caryn Collins. No cause of death was listed.

Piper didn't recognize the name. She glanced at the clock and decided she'd have to learn more about Caryn Collins later. She had promised Jack she'd get to his place early to help him before the guests began arriving.

While the traffic at the George Washington Bridge was not too horrific, the FDR Drive was a nightmare.
Should have gone down the West Side Highway and cut over,
Piper thought as the cars inched along for over eighty blocks. When she got off at Twenty-third Street, she was already an hour late.

As she locked the sedan door, her BlackBerry rang. Feeling the cold air whipping across from the East River, Piper put the tray and the two shopping bags she was carrying on the hood of the car and pulled her handheld from the pocket of her coat. She glanced at the screen.

It was Jack.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked. She could hear the concern in his voice.

“I'm here,” said Piper. “The traffic was horrible, but some guy was pulling out across the street from your building and I just got his space.”

“Good. Do you need me to come down and help you with anything?”

“No, I can handle it,” said Piper, eyeing the icy slush covering the stretch of pothole-ridden macadam that separated her from Peter Cooper Village. She wished her feet were encased in her warm, soft Uggs instead of the open, strappy shoes she'd gotten a pedicure to wear. “I'll be right up. Is anyone else there yet?”

“A few people.”

“I'm so sorry I'm late, Jack.”

“Forget it. Just come.”

When she entered Jack's apartment, Piper saw that more than a few people had arrived. The place was already crowded. She didn't recognize most of the faces as she scanned the area, but she knew that many of them were men and women who worked with Jack at the FBI.

“My mother pretty much sent everything left over at the end of the day from the bakery,” said Piper, putting down the tray and shopping bags with the
ICING ON THE CUPCAKE
logo emblazoned on the sides. Jack was standing at the counter in the tiny kitchen, opening a bottle of wine.

“Way to go, Terri! Thank her for me,” said Jack as he leaned over to give Piper a kiss on the cheek. “Glad you're here.”

“What can I do?” she asked, taking off her coat.

“Whoa,” said Jack, his eyes sweeping up and down her body. “You can just stand exactly where you are and look like that all night. No, go out into the living room and stand in the middle of the rug so
everybody
can see you.”

She smoothed the fabric of her short black skirt and adjusted the glittery, sleeveless emerald green top she'd chosen because it brought out the color of her eyes. Gold bangle bracelets decorated her well-toned arms. Her blond hair fell long and loose around her shoulders.

Piper smiled. “Stop, you're making me blush.”

“Please, you love it. And if you can't agree that you look absolutely gorgeous tonight, then you're
never
gonna believe it.”

Passing trays of pigs in a blanket, cheese puffs, and bacon-wrapped scallops, Piper had the opportunity to mingle and meet Jack's friends. Every one of them recognized her name when she identified herself.

“So you're the famous Piper. Jack is always talking about you,” said one man.

“Wow, Jack finally got something right. You
are
as pretty as he said you were,” said another.

Piper was unprepared when one inebriated guy took hold of her arm and asked, “Why don't you two get a room already?”

As she wriggled free from his grasp, Piper could feel her cheeks grow hot. Instinctively, she looked around the room for Jack. She spotted him in the corner, laughing with a group. She'd thought about it—that was for sure.

Jack and she were just friends, weren't they? She'd been getting the feeling that he wanted more. Now his friends had pretty much confirmed that.

Piper was uncomfortable with the idea. Her own wedding had been called off seven months before. She hadn't been the one who'd done the canceling. It wasn't that she was still in love with Gordon. In fact, when she thought about the whole thing, which was less and less often, she realized that there were many reasons it hadn't worked out. The breakup was for the best. Still, a broken engagement was completely humiliating. She deserved an Oscar for the performance she'd put on for her family and friends—at the very least a Golden Globe was in order.

Only Jack Lombardi, a guy she'd met and befriended in karate class, knew how miserable it had been for her. Over pasta dinners and plenty of red wine, he'd listened as Piper unburdened herself. Jack had been totally supportive, vacillating between vowing to physically “take care of Gordon” and gently soothing Piper when she wept. He'd kept reciting the same mantra: She was “much too good for him.”

The whole experience with Gordon had left Piper vulnerable and wary of getting romantically involved again. The breakup, along with the never-ending struggle to find acting jobs, had led her to give up her Manhattan apartment and move home to her parents' house in Hillwood, New Jersey. She was just taking a break, just regrouping, she told herself. But now she was officially in the ranks of the “bridge and tunnel” crowd.

Awesome.

Making the wedding cake for Glenna Brooks, along with helping to untangle the deadly web of events preceding the wedding, had certainly distracted Piper and made her feel like she was doing something productive. Now she had nothing on the horizon.

Unless she accepted the job from Jillian Abernathy.

The party guests surged closer to the television to watch the Waterford ball descend in Times Square.

“Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year!”

Piper felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up to see Jack's face. The lines at the corners of his brown eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

“This is going to be a better year, Pipe,” he said. “I know it.”

He leaned in, took her firmly in his arms, and gave her a long, tender kiss. Piper felt the warmth of his body against hers and found herself responding.

What was she doing? Maybe she did have feelings beyond friendship for Jack, but they had a great relationship that meant the world to her. This was just going to make it messy.

She pulled away gently.

After everyone else had gone, Piper offered to stay and help straighten up.

“Forget it,” said Jack as he peeled the paper wrapping from a cupcake and took a bite. He flopped down on the sofa, cleared some glasses and cocktail napkins, put his feet up on the coffee table, and leaned back. “It's too late, and I'm too tired to clean this mess. It can wait till morning.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Why don't you sit down?” he suggested.

Piper perched on the arm of a chair across the room. “It was a great party, Jack,” she said. “I think everybody had a good time.”

“Did
you
have a good time, Pipe?” There was a hopeful tone to Jack's voice.

“Mm-hmm.”

She knew he was looking for an indication of how he should proceed. He needed some sort of sign from her to let him know that she wanted to get closer. She answered by changing the subject.

“I wanted to tell you about a job offer I got this afternoon,” she said, trying to ignore the expression of disappointment that flashed across Jack's face. She described Jillian Abernathy's Facebook message, the offer to stay at Elysium, and the backstory of the acid attack and the postponed wedding.

“Do you really want to get involved in something like that?” asked Jack. “It sounds like a mess.”

“Ever hear of a happy ending?” asked Piper.

“I've heard of 'em, but I haven't seen that many.”

“Poor jaded Jack. Are you really all that cynical?”

“Look who's talking,” he said, shaking his head. “You won't let yourself even consider the prospect of letting someone in and being happy. If you ask me, that's pretty cynical.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Jack.”

“Yes you do, Pipe. I wish you could have seen the fear in your eyes after I kissed you before.”

“That's absolutely ridiculous,” she protested. “I'm not afraid of you, Jack. I'm just happy with the way things are between us right now.”