Page 32 of Final Serenade

I braced myself for the worst and read through the headlines. Acid rose at the back of my throat, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Photos of Frankie and meholding handswere on every news site and on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. I looked like an Easter bunny in his Canada-sized jacket, but if wearing someone else’s clothes, no matter how ridiculous, was going to help me keep my identity secret, I was all for it. Hell, I was ready to do cosplay.Dress me up as Spider-Man if you must.

The idea of being subjected to endless scrutiny if I was discovered filled me with terror. I didn’t want to talk to Levi before I confirmed the assholes hadn’t figured out my name.

Thankfully, my face wasn’t distinguishable enough in any of the photos or videos. The brunette Frankie Blade had been caught with remained a mystery. The question was, for how long?

It was only after my thorough internet search confirmed that my identity hadn’t been cracked that I called Levi.

“Your boy is cheating on you, Cass,” he joked.

I played along because an I-had-dinner-with-Frankie-Blade type of greeting would probably freak my partner out. I also wasn’t sure I could, or even should, tell anyone about last night. Real Frankie, Frank, was myGrace. I wanted to keep him for myself. For as long as the world would allow me. “I saw it. I’m heartbroken.”

“Are you going to pick up your stuff today?”

“Yes. I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I just woke up.”

“Cool. I have something I want you to see. A friend tipped me off.”

Levi sounded mysteriously enthusiastic, which usually meant he had a lead on a hot exclusive. Although I didn’t think anything was going to beat my secret dinner with a man everyone wanted. At least, not in this lifetime.

“Hey, Carlos texted me, but I haven’t had a chance to answer. Do you know what’s up with him?”

“He can’t shoot tonight. Already found a replacement.”

“Who did you find?”

“That kid who photographed for us at The Whiskey a couple of times. Jonah.”

“Oh, his stuff is great,” I approved.

I had no idea why Carlos had contacted me. Levi was usually the one to handle administrative or outsourcing duties. I was the girl who wrote articles and asked questions in front of the camera.

After we refreshed the list of upcoming eventsRewiredwas scheduled to cover this week and ended our call, I moved on to sorting my emails. My smitten side hoped to see a message from Frankie, but rational Cassy knew it was too soon. The concept of time in the world of the rich and famous was defined by the optimal number of business meetings, shows to play, functions to attend, and parties to host. I couldn’t possibly expect the “next time” that Frankie had promised me to happen today or even this week.

Patience, Cassy,I told myself on the way to my car.

Santa Monica was a humid and cloudy hell. Traffic jammed every single road in typical Monday fashion. Shuffling through the multiple playlists on my phone, I drove down Wilshire with my windows down and let the cool September breeze bite my skin. The weather was neither too hot nor too cold. Almost perfect.

Levi was in the middle of his afternoon snack when I arrived. Nachos and hummus sat on the coffee table next to his iPad. For a guy who never worked out and lived off junk food and energy drinks, he was abnormally fit. Concern twisted his face when I walked in.

Jay Brodie still hadn’t gotten back to us regarding the video interview, and the lack of response began to worry me.Rewiredneeded to be on the list of publications to run Frankie Blade’s first post-accident interview. This was our big break. An opportunity to move up, to actually hire staff, to get a real office space.

“You’re right on time.” Levi motioned at my bag as I sauntered through his man cave. “I was about to sell your shit on eBay.”

“I don’t think my shit would be worth much.”

“You’d be surprised.” He shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. “There’s a huge market for used laptops.”

“You wanted to show me something?” I found a clutter-free spot on the couch across from him and sat down.

Levi’s apartment wasthebachelor pad. Cables, gear, and piles of hard drives took up most of the space.

“My buddy’s cousin is friends with this girl.” He slid his iPad over to me. “Isabella Solana. Nineteen. She was Equality 18’s face of the month last January.”

“The LGBTQ nonprofit?” I tried to push my worry to the back of my head and concentrate on the information my partner was sharing.

“Yes. They were working with some indie label in San Francisco to secure her a record deal, but the suits pulled the plug the day after she was in an accident.”

“Why?”

---