Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

right?

As I listened through the next three messages, I realized they were all about the same story-Blain Hall allegedly fathering Cherry Chase’s baby. Mental forehead smack.

So, I tried to spin what I’d gleaned from my celebrity interrogations for column fodder.

THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY

BAD: JENNIFER WOOD GETS A NEW TITLE THIS WEEK TO ADD TO REIGNING QUEEN OF TWEEN- LITTERBUG. TURNS OUT SHE NOT ONLY PUTS TRASH ON TV, BUT ON THE GROUND, TOO, LEAVING A TRAIL OF LATTE CUPS IN HER WAKE.

GOOD: KATIE BRIGGS WAS SEEN AT A CHARITY EVENT IN THE VALLEY LAST WEEK. HER DATE? HERSELF! TRUST ME, IT’S TRUE LOVE.

I bit my lip, tapping a pencil on the desk, trying to come up with an “Ugly” to round the column out.

UGLY: RUMORS ARE SWIRLING THAT HOLLYWOOD WILL SOON BE SEEING THE LOVE CHILD OF REHAB ROCKER BLAIN HALL AND HIS DIRTY DOGS BASSIST, CHERRY CHASE. ALL I CAN SAY ARE MY CONDOL-ENCES, MISS CHASE-IF BABY LOOKS ANYTHING LIKE DADDY, LET’S HOPE HIS TRUST FUND INCLUDES A PLASTIC SURGERY STIPEND.

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously printing this?” I looked up to find Cal reading over my shoulder.

“What? It’s true. The rumors are swirling.”

“But you started them.”

I waved him off. “Semantics.”

“Aren’t these three on our suspect list?”

“So?”

“So, assuming one of them is your stalker, you really think it’s a good idea to piss them off like this?”

I swiveled in my chair to face him. “Look, this is what I do, Cal. I poke fun at celebrities. And these are the only celebrities I have at the moment.”

“So, maybe you should take a break from printing the column until this whole thing dies down.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m a writer, Cal.”

“I know.”

“A good one.”

“And humble.”

“Look, laugh all you want. I know what I am and what I’m not. I’m not pretty like Cam, I’m not stacked like Allie, I’m not a born leader like Felix. But I am a damned good writer. I can make an entire story out of nothing and word it in such a way that you’re dying to know more when I’m done. That is a skill. And I’m not letting some buttmunch with a voice disguiser take that away from me. I’m stronger than that.”

“You’re wrong,” Cal said.

I opened my mouth to argue, but Cal cut me off before I could get it out.

“You’re very pretty.”

I shut my jaw with a click, my cheeks instantly going hot. I looked down at my shoes, clearing my throat. “Look, why don’t you make yourself useful and go get us a couple of sandwiches, huh?” I asked.

“You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

“I have work to do, and I can’t do it when you’re all hovery.” I snuck a look up at him through my bangs. His eyes were laughing at me-I could feel it.

“What kind of sandwich you want?” he asked.

“Salami.”

Cal grinned, the laugh transferring to his lips. “I thought you hated salami.”

“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a big fat liar.”

The grin widened. “Yeah, you are. Alright, I’ll be right back.”

I watched him walk away, fanning my cheeks as soon as his back was turned.

Work.

Right. I had lots of work to do.

I hit spell-check, loaded my column into an email for Felix, and had just hit the send button when a new window popped up.

Hey, Bender.

That familiar flip hit my stomach. Man in Black.

Hey.

Missed you last night.

I scrunched my nose up. Right. Last night.

Yeah, sorry about that. Something came up.

There was a pause. Then, No problem. You okay?

I took a deep breath.

Kinda.

Tell me.

I wondered how two simple little words could convey such concern. But they did. I suddenly felt the entire weight of the last few days crushing down on my shoulders and realized I was dying to unburden it on someone. So I did, spilling everything that had happened in the past two days, from that first weird phone message to the break- in last night and my tenuous position here at the Informer ever since Miss Jugs walked in. When I finally finished, I had paragraphs of text filling up my little IM window. I hit send and sat back, watching the cursor blink, waiting for his reaction.

Wow.

No kidding.

You okay?

My first reaction was to say yes. But somehow my fingers typed the word No instead. I’m scared. Which, as I stared at the words on the screen, was true. I know, I know, I’d played macho for Felix, because, frankly the idea of losing all the contacts I’d made in the last three years since I started here scared me even worse. But that didn’t mean that having someone break into my home hadn’t shattered my illusion of safety and security into a million little pieces.

You think maybe you should go to the police? he asked.

I shook my head at the screen. No. I can’t lose my informants. No police.

You sure?

I have Cal.

There was a pause. Then, The bodyguard?

I nodded at the empty room. He’s good.

I thought about the way he’d searched our condo last night, gun drawn. The way he made me ride around in his tank, shadowed me like a puppy everywhere I went. There was no way anyone was going to get the jump on me with Cal around.

I trust him, I typed.

Again with the pause. Then I do, too.

Thanks.

Be careful, Bender.

I will.

We on for tonight?

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Be good, he typed.

Bye.

And then he signed off.

I stared at the little “offline” icon blinking back at me. I’m not sure how long I sat there feeling inexplicably lonely, but I was roused from my thoughts by a sandwich falling onto my desk.

I looked up to find Cal, a Coke in hand.

“Salami on sourdough.” He handed me the soda. “And a Coke.”