having lunch with this very minute.
Chaz nods. “Yup. That one.”
“Holy guacamole!” I exclaim after he tells me how she stalked and drugged him and then had the audacity to show up at their wedding and object to their nuptials. Yikes! She’s not just any bitch. She’s a veritable psycho bitch. Devious and toxic. Does Brandon know this? Should I tell him?
Jeffrey takes a sip of his iced tea. “If you ask me, honey, your psycho boss and the bitch are a perfect match. Don’t you just love that name—Bratrina?”
We all burst out in laughter. Maybe Jeffrey’s right.
The waiter returns and takes our orders. Wanting to keep my weight down, I ask for a half-order Chinese Chicken salad with the dressing on the side.
“Zoester, go for the full-size,” insists Jeffrey. “I promise you won’t gain a pound.”
He doesn’t have to twist my arm. I’m starving. I go for it.
Over a sinful piece of double fudge chocolate cake, which we share (I can’t resist), I mention that Brandon has amnesia. I got so caught up with all the Katrina dirt I forgot to share that.
“I know,” says Jeffrey.
I gulp down my mouthful of chocolate sin. “You do?”
“Pops told me.” Jeffrey’s dad, Pete, who we both call Pops, is a homicide detective for the LAPD. In addition to being my loving surrogate dad, he was the one assigned to investigate my mother’s brutal murder. The senseless death of his beloved twin sister enraged him. He swore he would hunt the gunman down and personally give him his due. No matter how hard Pops worked the case or close he came, Mama’s killer was never found. To this day, it haunts me that he’s probably still out there. My stomach churns. I can still see his face. For a split second, I’m five again and he’s pointing a gun at me. I shudder. Jeffrey’s voice hurls me out of the terrifying memory.
“He’s investigating Brandon’s hit and run accident. Given that he’s a huge star, there’s a possibility some crazy stalker tried to deliberately run him over.”
A shiver slithers down my spine. “You mean like a m-murder?” The word is hard for me to say.
Biting into another serving of the chocolate cake, he nods and then swallows. “He may want to talk to you.”
“Ooh!” coos Chaz, a total gossip hound.
There’s one last chunk of the cake remaining; Jeffrey insists it’s mine. I politely decline. I’ve lost my appetite. The thought of someone trying to kill Brandon, my Kurt Kussler, sickens me.
Brandon
The Conquest Broadcasting Executive Dining Room is a formal restaurant filled with tables draped in white linen and Hollywood types, mostly men, dressed in either expensive designer jeans or suits. Blake Burns, whom I recognize thanks to Zoey, is impeccably dressed in the latter. He could be a movie star himself with his dashing good looks and athletic build. I’m shown to his table by the maître d’; along the way many people reach out their hands to shake mine and welcome me back. It’s hard to believe an asshole like me is so well liked.
Blake rises as I approach his table and then rounds it to give me a man hug. “Welcome back, man. You gave us a fucking scare. How’re you doing?”
Taking facing seats, I tell him I’m doing well. I decided on the way here that I wasn’t going to tell him about the amnesia. What point would that serve? I found out enough about him and Conquest Broadcasting from the file Zoey put together to fake an intelligent conversation, something that shouldn’t be too hard to do since I’m an actor. About my age, Blake, I learned, is the heir apparent to heading up all of Conquest Broadcasting after his father retires. He began his career as a male model, did some acting, and then decided he preferred being behind the camera. Upon joining his father’s company, he started up a successful porn channel, SIN-TV, which was spun off into an even more successful women’s erotica channel by his talented colleague and wife, Jennifer. The woman whose life he saved. Blake Burns, unlike Kurt Kussler, is a real life action hero.
A silver-haired waiter, in the standard white jacket and black bow tie uniform, brings us menus. “Good to see you back, Mr. Taylor,” he says warmly as he hands me mine. I guess I’m a regular around this place. Blake and I peruse the menus and order, each deciding on the Conquest Club Sandwich with a side of potato salad and