The Blue Room Vol. 4 (The Blue Room Serie) Page 4

  So she's not detoxing here, either. The relief of that floods through me – until the realization hits me. My only lead – and it's gone. Rita may have called from this number, but nobody here seems to know who she is. If she was here, she's gone now.

  I could kick myself. If I'd only tried Rita earlier – I hadn't had the time – I'd needed the space, the privacy, and, to be honest, the courage, to find out the truth. Now I'd waited too long. I feel the tears beginning to trickle down my cheeks. The pain of knowing how close I've come – and how utterly I've lost her.

  She's not a drug addict.

  Maybe she is. If she is, you'd never know.

  You'll never see her again.

  My hope turns to despair in my mouth.

  I cry the whole way back to Los Angeles. Crying for Rita, for myself, for the friendship we both shared. Holding the picture of the two of us in my hands. Feeling sure – more sure than ever – that we'll never hold each other like that again.

  When I get back to my room at the Blue Towers, there's someone already there, waiting in the corridor

  “Thank God,” Ben looks disheveled – I've never seen him such a mess. “Staci, where have you been.”

  “Family stuff,” I mutter. I trust Ben – but not enough to tell him everything I'm doing.

  “I ran all the way here,” he coughs up phlegm. “I had to talk to you right away. You weren't answering your cell phone.”

  I'd turned it off in case Mrs. Walters called.

  “Come inside,” I say. I give him a glass of water.

  “Something stronger?” Ben looks up at me plaintively. I relent, and pour us both tumblers of sharp, strong whiskey.

  “What is it?” I ask. “What's wrong?”

  “I overheard something at the Blue Room,” Ben says. “When I was tending bar. Something I think you need to know.”

  “What?”

  “It's about Mr. X.” Ben says.

  “What do you mean?” Immediately I'm all ears.

  “If he even is Mr. X,” Ben looks down.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They switched the names,” Ben says. “After Roz died – they switched the code names. For security. They were afraid information would get out. So they switched a couple of their clients around.”

  “Meaning...”

  “Meaning,” Ben inhales. “Mr. X. that you're sleeping with isn't the same Mr. X. that Roz slept with.”

  “That can't be.” I'd been so specific, from day one, that I'd wanted the same man Roz was with. The same man Rita was with.

  “It's true,” said Ben. “Your Mr. X. and Roz's Mr. X. are two different people. They only switched some of the names, so the girls wouldn't figure it out. They switched around only the most elite and exclusive patrons.”

  “But...” I search my memory. Mr. X. had definitely said something about Roz, I knew that much. But why would he pretend to have slept with Roz? Did he say he actually slept with Roz or did I assume it? Why would he pretend to be in mourning? “That's just insane.” I look up at him. “But Mrs. Walters definitely made a big deal about calling up Mr. X., assigning him to me, making a bit deal about how Mr. X. was in mourning for Roz.” Not to mention Rita's name turning up on Mr. X.'s screen. Which would make even less sense if they were never lovers.

  “Mrs. Walters doesn't have access to client names,” he says. “Just their code names and billing history. She probably thought she was assigning you to Mr. X. Or, at least, someone using his code name and passwords. The change probably came from higher up. Someone who has figured out that things are rotten in the Blue Room. Real rotten. Whatever happened to Roz – we're all in danger. And they still don't know who did it. So they're changing things around to keep themselves safe.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “There are rumors that some of the girls were jealous of Roz – because she found love with Mr. X. The other Mr. X., I mean. They might have made her a target because of that. And that would make anyone Mr. X. was with a target, too. So they switched it up, so that nobody knew who Mr. X. was – or who he was seeing”

  “So they used me as bait?” I'm figuring it out. “Someone – higher up – someone must have known...that I'd be the next target.” After Roz. And Rita. Someone must have figured out that I was next.

  I get a sharp feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?” Ben asks.

  I don't want to say anything, not in front of Ben. But I've got a sinking feeling. A hunch. Something I can't even express until I figure out if my hunch was right.

  “This is kind of overwhelming,” I say.

  “I just want you to be careful,” Ben says. “I know it shouldn't matter – I guess one patron is as good as the other.”

  “I guess.” I think of Mr. X – my Mr. X. – and feel sure it can't be true.

  “At least, that's what the brains behind the Blue Room thinks.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The whole family,” Ben is getting angry now. “They're rotten. Lying to us, misleading us.”

  “The whole family?” I'm confused. “You mean Clarence and Terrence?”

  “All of them,” Ben shouts. “Roni Taylor. The cousins.”

  “The cousins?”

  “A bunch of Blues are involved. Everyone knows. The whole bloody family is in on it. Ask Terrence if you don't believe me.”

  Ask Terrence...

  How much more has Terrence not told me? Is he purposely keeping me as bait – for this fake Mr. X? Does he even know who Mr. X. really is?

  They seemed to recognize each other in the elevator. They're in on something – together – and nobody's telling me.

  There's nobody I can trust. Tears roll down my cheeks once more. But I can't tell Ben why I'm crying. I can't tell anyone.

  “Thank you for letting me know,” I say. I get up. “I think I need to take a nap.”

  He nods and leaves me to process all this alone.

  Where is the real Mr. X? Roz's Mr. X.? Rita's Mr. X?

  And who is mine?

  Chapter 6

  I try to process everything that I've heard. But the thoughts in my head are overwhelming. I sit down in the silk-upholstered armchair in my hotel room, trying to take everything in. I have so many questions I don't even know where to start. How can Mr. X. not be the Mr. X.? He talked about Roz, didn't he? Not a lot, to be sure – maybe even less than you'd expect from someone who had just lost a woman that he loved – but he'd definitely mentioned her. Not to mention Rita. What was Rita doing calling him if he weren't Mr. X., her lover? Mr. X. who had bought her that beautiful locket?

  I have to admit – there's a small part of me that's relieved. Whomever it is I'm sleeping with, whomever it is that I'm falling for, I'm not sharing a man with my best friend. I haven't betrayed Rita by going to bed with the man that she was crazy about.

  But then what am I doing here?

  I'd been so close, I think, as bitter tears fall slowly down my cheeks, nestling at my lips. I'd thought for a brief second that I had her. That I was close to solving the mystery of her disappearance. But now I realize I'm further from the truth than ever.

  She's alive. I know that much.

  Or I think I do.

  I'd heard her voice say “Hello?” on the other end. “Hello,” that was all she'd said. But it was her. Unmistakably so. I could recognize her voice.

  But she isn't at the Golden Canyon. She isn't working there. She isn't an addict. She's a mystery, a ghost, an echo of a name that was once spoken so often on my lips. And Mr. X. – he isn't Mr. X., either. He's a liar.

  I feel the pang so sharply.

  He lied to me about Roz. But why.

  All that he'd said about losing the women that he loved. I thought at first he'd been talking about Roz, about the pain he'd experienced losing her. But now I wonder – is that even him? Was that all an act? That story about his wife – killed on her wedding day – was that a lie, too?
>
  I feel sick to my stomach as I realize the truth.

  I can trust nothing about him.

  I can't trust my own heart. My own instincts.

  Nothing.

  I stand up straight and decide on what I'm going to do next. I'm going to go to Terrence's office, I decide. Directly. No distraction No sex. No nothing. I'm going to confront him about what I know. About the fact that he's set me out as a trap, as bait, put me in danger, about how he's let me think that I'm sleeping with Roz's Mr. X. when I'm actually sleeping with a total stranger.

  Then the truth hits me. He's a total stranger either way.

  I've developed a whole fantasy life with Mr. X. Done what Roz did, what Rita did. Gotten lost in the fantasy, the ideal, the beauty of pretend.

  The truth is, I'm not owed shit. I'm not owed the truth about Mr. X. about his life, about his loves. All I'm owed is some crazy amount I’m under confidentiality to not divulge.

  I went into the Blue Room knowing what I was getting into…I can’t blame anyone except myself for whatever reasons I am here. Actually it was my own circumstances that brought me here, and I should be grateful to be able to make what I was making by my own choice.

  The rest is up to him.

  Still the tears sting at my eyes as I make my way to Terrence's office to confront him. I breathe in sharply and try to gather up my strength.

  All my resolve evaporates when I see him. He looks so handsome, so calm, so sure of himself. He's wearing a custom-tailored dark blue suit with an immaculately tailored light blue shirt and a silk indigo tie. His hair is nicely-styled, too – slicked back and more elegant than I'm used to. Even businesslike. The whole outfit brings out the piercing blue in his eyes.

  “I'm so happy to see you...” His voice is almost a growl. “I've missed you. Is your mom okay?”

  “She's...” I swallow. I don't want to answer, but I do. “She's better, thanks.”

  “Good,” he coos. “I'm so glad. I trust you had a good visit.”

  I'm not going to tell him anything. I just want to find out the truth.

  “Listen, Terrence....”

  “Yes?” That smile of his is so sexy I can't stand him. Visions of him holding me against the wall sail through my brain. “What is it?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  He pretends not to hear. “What do you think of my suit?”

  “What?”

  “You like it?”

  “It's nice...” I admit. “It looks good on you.”

  “I've got to be professional today,” he says. “Big board meeting.” He poses in front of me. Against myself my cheeks flush with desire for him.

  “It brings out your eyes,” I say softly.

  He reaches in between my legs and feels my need for him. “Clearly I should wear blue more often,” his voice is like a purr.

  He can tell, I think to myself. He can always tell. How much I want him. How much I need him. How desperate I am for his touch, even now, even now when I'm ostensibly free.

  I can't deny the chemistry between us.

  “I've missed being in the same room as you,” he whispers into my ear, pulling me close, kissing me deeply, leaving me wanting more.

  “No, Terrence,” I force myself away. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “I have a board meeting,” Terrence says again. “Apparently some of the partners are worried about my behavior. Apparently it's not professional to sample the merchandise.” He winks. “You see, Staci, the effect you have on me. You're very dangerous indeed. I've got to go convince a room full of people I can be trusted to run the Blue Room dispassionately...but the second you walk in...oh, Staci, I want you so badly.”

  There's a puppy-dog look in his eyes so convincing that I almost forget what I've come here for. “They want to replace you...because of me?”

  “I promised Danny I'd stay away from you,” Terrence sighs. “A little birdie told him I wasn't being a very good boy, I guess. And it's not just that. Roz's death has some people nervous.”

  “Roz,” I cut in. “That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He looks up at me in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I want to know about Roz's death.” I look him straight in the eye. “What really happened. Whether or not I should be worried that I'm in danger. Whether my Mr. X. is a suspect.”

  I see the look of jealousy flit across Terrence's face, along with another, more nebulous, emotion.

  “Staci...” He pushes me softly into a chair. “I...I'm sorry.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I should have been honest about this a long time ago. But I don't want to run the risk...if they push me out...you deserve to know. The truth. My family loyalty only goes so far.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You're special to me, Staci. So I want to be honest with you. But can I trust you with a secret?”

  I have so many secrets already. What's one more?

  I nod.

  “You can't tell anyone, do you understand? Not the other girls, not Ben, anyone.”

  I cross my arms.

  “Tell me the truth,” I say. “Now.”

  “Nobody else knows it. But Staci – your Mr. X. isn't Roz's Mr. X.”

  I try to look surprised.

  “What do you mean?:

  “Roz's Mr. X. left the Blue Room. He felt his safety was compromised. His identity. He didn't come back. Maybe he was too heartbroken over Roz. But I didn't want word to get out. I was afraid that if a client openly left, it would be bad for business. For our reputation. So I had someone take Mr. X.'s place. Someone I could trust. Someone from the inside.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “What are you talking about?”

  So, Mr. X. is a plant?

  And where is the real Mr. X.?

  “Shit, Staci,” Terrence looks down at his watch. “I'm so sorry, but I can't explain more right now.” He kisses me roughly. “I have this board meeting. And things are serious. I can't be late. That's the last thing I need right now. Can we talk later, at the Blue Room?” There's a melancholy sadness in his eyes I've never seen before.

  “Sure,” I say, my voice cracking.

  I watch him head into the hotel, down the corridor, toward the conference rooms on the 2nd floor. The legitimate part of Blue Towers.

  I sigh as I turn around to head back to my room, trying to process what's just happened.

  Then I see a few more figures heading to the conference hall.

  The first is Danny Blue. As handsome, as rock-star-like as ever, with his long black hair and trademark family eyes. Neve isn't with him, though. The first time I've ever seen the two of them apart. I wonder briefly about them. Are they engaged? Terrence said they might as well be – but Terrence also had a thing for Neve, once upon a time. I can't help feeling a little jealous of her as I think of her beautiful heart-shaped face, her lustrous dark hair. I bet Neve Knight would never work in a place like this.

  Then I see the other board member.

  My heart sinks. And then it shatters.

  It's my Mr. X.

  Instinctively I run the other direction, down the corridor. Knowing I'm supposed to hide. Knowing I'm not supposed to see this.

  But my break won't last for long, I realize. When I get to my room, there's a note on Mrs. Walters' monogrammed stationary. Mr. X. has booked a session with me tonight.

  See me, the note says.

  I gulp. That sounds serious.

  How can I face Mr. X. now?

  Chapter 7

  I stare at the note in my hand, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me. How can I face Mr. X., sleep with him, fall for him, knowing what I know. He's – what, exactly? Terrence hasn't given me a lot of information to go on. He's a liar, that much is clear. He lied to me about his relationship with Roz, at the very least. About his identity.

  Not that there's much of an identity. He's – “Mr. X.” He's
never promised me more than that. He's never offered me more than that. And I've never asked. What does it matter, really, if he's my Mr. X or Roz's Mr. X? Just a signifier, a mysterious X marks the spot. Not even a real name. Not even something you can lie about?

  Then why do I feel so empty? All I want to do is curl up in bed and cry. I know, logically, that the arrangement I've made is one where we're both on the same page, falling for the fantasy loving the lie. But instead I feel betrayed. Something about Mr. X's manner truly makes me believe that he loves me, that he wants me, that he wants to be with me and only me. That he's fallen for me: really and truly. When we're together, it doesn't feel like “just an arrangement.” It feels like – I don't want to admit it even to myself – it feels a little like love.

  Not that I have time to process any of this. I go straight upstairs to Mrs. Walters, where she is waiting for me with her hands primly clasped in her lap.

  “Good,” she says coolly. “We have a lot of work to do with you today.” She signals at the two black-clad beautician waiting like bodyguards at her side. “Mr. X. has demanded something very specific of you.”

  “What?” What else could he possibly want from me?

  “We're supposed to make you look – what were his words exactly? – 'like a princess.'” She smiles her inscrutable smile down at me. “And that's exactly what we'll provide. We always give the customer what he wants, after all.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mr. X. likes me in simple clothing. Jeans. Athletic Tees.

  “For this Gala,” she says lightly.

  “A gala?”

  “Yes. The Blue Foundation Gala tonight. Apparently you have a real date.”

  My jaw drops. A real date? Like –in public? It's one thing for Mr. X. to take me to his beach house, quite another for him to take me to a party. How is he supposed to explain my presence, exactly? I'm...what? A prostitute he picked up on the street? Not exactly cocktail party chatter.

  “No time for explanations, Staci,” Mrs. Walters is impatient. “Let's just get through this, shall we? We have a lot of work to do.”