Page 46 of Just Curious

Smiling and then quickly sobering, Willa asked, “How are you going to lose them?”

Looking satisfied, Jackson gave her his signature crooked grin and answered, “That’s why they invented Ludicrous Mode.”

“Jackson, please don’t do anything dangerous or stupid,” she pleaded.

Holding her close and kissing her forehead, Jackson tried to reassure her, “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

After dinner, as the sun was finally setting magnificently over the Pacific, they loaded their suitcases into the Tesla and Jackson headed out. Within minutes, he phoned Casey from the car. “It’s not too bad. One jerk is following me, but I didn’t see anyone else. He probably thinks we’re all in the car, but who knows what he thinks he’s going to get out of tailing me. Anyway, I told the driver to pull into the garage to get you guys, but leave as quickly as possible before anyone else shows up, okay?”

“Yeah, we’re on it. Willa and I will see you at my place. Be careful, Jax.”

Trying to drive as though he had no care in the world, Jackson turned south and headed up to the top of Mt. Soledad by way of Via Capri—the steepest climb in the entire town. It was the wrong direction to get to Rancho Santa Fe, which was north of La Jolla. He thought a few times that he’d lost his tail because the car following him was having a difficult time making it up the mountain, but when Jackson started down La Jolla Scenic Drive after cresting the top, the unknown idiot was back on his tail again. It was far too residential and curvy to try any Ludicrous shenanigans, so Jackson kept to the speed limit, took a left turn onto Soledad Mountain Road, and headed down toward Pacific Beach. Finally, he reached the commercial section of the beach town and turned right onto one of the main drags. After he merged onto Grand Avenue, he encountered a lot of congested traffic. He figured if the other driver were around, he’d soon be lost in the mix. Just to be careful, though, Jackson finally pulled into a small parking lot of a liquor store and parked around behind the building.

As he waited, he called Casey again. “All clear for you guys?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, but Willa forgot her laptop, of all things, so we’re going to have to go back.”

“Don’t worry about it, Case. Take her to your place, and I’ll stop back home and get it. I’m just sitting around for a minute until I’m sure the jerk who followed me is gone. I’m just in PB, so I’m not far away. And tell Willa I didn’t have to resort to Ludicrous Mode to lose the tail.”

“Okay. She says to tell you thank you for getting the laptop and that she thinks she left it on the dresser in the bedroom. We’ll see you soon.”

Twenty minutes later, it was fully dark as Jackson pulled up to his house and entered through the electronic gate. He hopped out quickly to run in and get Willa’s laptop, but he made a colossal error of judgment. In his haste, he neglected to close either the garage door or his car door. As soon as Jackson entered his house, a man stepped out of the shadows, entered the garage, stuck his head inside the car, and snapped a quick photo of the VIN number of the Tesla. The man ran like hell as soon as he accomplished that and hid in the bushes again. He narrowly missed seeing Jackson come back out of the house again with the computer in his hands. Jackson didn’t see anyone around and didn’t think a thing about the door being left open for a minute at best—especially since the outer gate was closed. The intruder let a couple of minutes pass before he climbed over the fence, scratching himself pretty badly in the process.

Chapter 28

Ryker could not believe his luck. He’d shown up at Jackson’s house not really knowing what he would find or how he could cause Jackson some trouble, but when he saw that Tesla arrive, he followed it in through the gate on foot, slipping through at the last minute, crouching low. Then he dashed into the bushes where he waited until Jackson got out of the car. The fact that Jackson had left the garage and car doors open too was a gift. Ryker had previously thought maybe he’d do something easy like cut off the asshole’s cable so Jackson couldn’t use the internet or something like that, so he was rooting around the landscaping to see if he could find anything like a cable box. This scenario, however, was a split-second decision that could lead to a lot more fun. It was more than worth the drive down from Pasadena. Now he just had to face all the traffic on the way home.

Once he finally got back to his house, he was crabby, hungry and tired. He barely looked at Deb who tried to look perky and happy to have him back. He headed straight to the kitchen where he made himself an enormous sandwich and grabbed a bottle of beer. He ignored Deb’s questions and observations and went to mess around with his computer while he ate. The only thing he said to her was, “Clean up the kitchen,” as he walked away.

For the next several days, Ryker stayed close to his computer, totally engrossed in some project he didn’t share with Deb. He seemed to swear a lot and mutter things too low for her to hear.

Deb, however, made sure that Ryker’s house stayed neat, she looked her best, and his nights were satisfying—at least to him. She’d messed up royally when she accepted a lump sum payment for her magnificent screenplay. She’d been thrilled with the sound of a hundred grand, and was so anxious for the cash, she stupidly signed away her rights to any kind of future royalties from the movie. It took three long years to make the movie, and she’d gone through that money pretty quickly with her terrible spending habits. Now she wanted to kick herself sideways to Sunday for not being smarter about it, which was what prompted her to “discover” another book from Willa with Ryker’s assistance. Then she spent a fortune getting books printed up and sent all over the country. It had seemed like her best option at the time—capitalize on the Oscar win and take as many sales as possible. But with the seizure of her books, she was nearly tapped-out financially, so she really needed Ryker to be happy enough with her to let her stay.

At least Bernie was paying her lawyer. That would have proved impossible. But she had faith the creepy shyster would get her off. She knew her rights. Maybe Willa wrote the first draft, but Deb was the one who made it great.Shefound that book after sifting through piles and piles of shitty manuscripts.Shewas the one who had the brains to see its potential. Andshewas the one who hired a ghostwriter to turn the book into a screenplay. Thank goodness she’d given the writer a fake name and paid her in cash.

It didn’t surprise Deb at all to see Willa’s writing career blossom. She watched from a distance as the pretty young woman’s fame grew. Sure, she had talent. It made Deb burn with jealousy to the point of irrationality to admit it, but it was true.

While Ryker played around doing God-knows-what on his computer all day, Deb went through her beauty regimen with religious intent, and when she was all done making herself look as good as possible, she searched porn sites, looking for something that Ryker might enjoy besides screwing her in the ass. She sort of wished she had the money for a boob job because her girls weren’t quite as perky as Willa’s—a fact that Ryker had pointed out a few times while watching that video. Willa’s tits were apparently magic or some crap.

Meanwhile, Ryker was seriously up to no good on his computer. He tried and tried to hack into Jackson’s computer, and found that the guy had put up a wall that was apparently impenetrable. This pissed Ryker off so badly, he resorted to his other plan—one with more Machiavellian intent. After days and days of tinkering, he finally had it where he wanted. Unfortunately for him, now he had to wait. And wait.

Chapter 29

Willa, Casey, and Jackson thought things were going pretty well. They had plenty of privacy out at Casey’s gated estate, and they were far from the prying eyes of the gawkers on the beach. Phillipe had made a run back to Jackson’s house to get a couple of items that he’d forgotten and reported back that the beach was still full of voyeurs. Jackson, Willa, and Casey tried not to be discouraged by the loss of their private beach havens. They figured if nothing happened there for enough time, people would lose interest eventually and they’d be able to go back. They all missed their evening runs on the beach.

Willa didn’t have many reasons to leave the confines of the estate, and she was content to write and talk on the phone when she needed to communicate. Jackson was also pretty comfortable, since all he really needed were his computers. Unfortunately, Casey’s business needed to be done in-person. After a few days in hiding, he knew he had to go back to work.

When he got to his office the first time, his out-and-proud lesbian assistant told him, “Apparently, your identity has been disclosed after all, stud. I’ve been making appointments for you left and right to meet with about a bazillion Hollywood types who are ‘just dying’ to have you work on their houses and yachts. Somehow word also got out that you worked for Cyril Mayfair on his little dinghy. Here’s a list of your appointments.” She handed him a folder. “From what I gather, they all embrace your commitment to the LGBXYZ blah, blah, blah lifestyle or some crapola and want to show their support. They also know you’re damned talented.”

“I’m not trying to further some cause; I’m just living my life,” he protested. Then he laughed when he saw the prominent names on the list and added, “But I’m not averse to cashing in on this good fortune. Casey Melrose… Designer to the Stars.” They both cracked up. “I guess I’m cool at last.”

Casey made several trips up to places like Malibu, Beverly Hills, and Bel Air over the next couple of weeks. Jackson insisted that it would be a great idea for Casey to take their driver so he would arrive safe and relaxed at his appointments. Casey had no problem with that idea. The driver and the new limo hadn’t had much of a workout lately anyway.

After Casey made several trips north, Jackson got a call from his brother Miles.

“Hey, good to hear from you, Miles. How’s it going?”

Miles answered, “We’re good, Jax. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up. I’m sorry to hear about your sudden movie fame, but… um… wow.”

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