Mateo gave her a confused look.
“The club.” Heather lifted her shoulders up toward her ears. “Trena Moretti’s doing a show about Ira and the empire he’s built. He asked me to take part in some of the promos. I’m slotted to be the celebrity guest DJ on opening night. Anyway, we both thought it might be fun for you to join in.”
Mateo swiped a hand through his hair and switched his gaze to Ira. “Really? You thought it would be fun? Because it sounds more like you want to continue to capitalize on Madison’s disappearance by using two people remotely connected to it, since everyone else is in jail.”
“They’re not in jail,” Heather said.
Mateo was knocked speechless by the news.
Since when? And more importantly: Why hadn’t Layla called to tell him?
Just because they were no longer a couple didn’t mean he’d stopped caring about her. Most days, he found he cared a lot more than he should.
“They were released a few hours ago. I assumed you knew.” Heather shrugged as though it were no big deal, which left Mateo wondering if she actually cared about anyone other than herself.
“Listen,” Mateo said, eager to leave. “If you still need a ride, we’re good. As for everything else—” He gestured toward the unfinished club. “Count me out.”
Heather shot Ira an opaque look, then stalked away in search of her belongings. While she was gone, Ira looked at Mateo and said, “You do know I’m helping Aster, right?”
Mateo returned Ira’s gaze, but refused to respond either way.
“I didn’t drug her.”
“But you know who did?”
Ira assumed a pensive look, as though choosing his words. When Heather returned, he simply said, “All the best to your sister.”
Mateo turned away.
“Let me know if I can help,” Ira called.
“I think curing cancer is a little out of your jurisdiction,” Mateo spat.
“You’d be surprised how far my reach extends.”
Mateo shrugged it off and kept going. He was nearly at the door when Heather said, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think it all the way through. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
Mateo reached for the handle. Now was as good a time as any to start weaning himself from her. When he sensed she wasn’t following, he turned to find her standing before a dust-covered mirror propped against a wall. She was drawing a large heart with the tip of her finger.
She glanced over her shoulder and shot him a questioning look. When he hesitated, she started to trace a crack down its center.
God, she was so dramatic. Mateo sighed, and swiped a hand through his hair. Then again, what had he expected, getting involved with an actress?
She thrust her lower lip into an exaggerated pout, and against his better instincts, Mateo started to laugh.
“C’mon,” he said, watching her face brighten as he offered a hand. “Let’s get out of here. It’s been a long day.”
Heather cast a last look at the heart she’d drawn and brushed the remaining dust away, leaving no evidence of the crack that had been there a second ago.
If only it were that easy. Then, refusing any further thoughts of Valentina, his mom, Layla, or anyone else on his long list of heartbreaks, he entwined his fingers with Heather’s and headed into the night.
FIVEUNCERTAIN SMILE
Trena Moretti P @trenamoretti—13s
Everything you need to know re the body linked to the Madison Brooks case—TONIGHT on #InDepthWithTrenaMoretti #WhereIsMadisonBrooks
Trena Moretti reread her latest tweet, then tucked her phone away and looked over her notes. The decision to film the show live had seemed like such a good idea at the time—but with the moment fast approaching, her stomach was a tangle of nerves.
Her career had started in print. But thanks to a move from DC to LA that coincided with Madison Brooks’s disappearance and Trena’s decision to focus on it, she’d become the face America trusted most when it came to all things Madison. In light of the recent developments, her producers had agreed that a live broadcast was the best way to deliver the story and, more importantly, maintain their number one spot in the ratings.
She looked up from her script and gazed into the large mirror before her. From the outside, she looked good: calm, poised, professional, and perfectly put together. People often commented on what a natural she was. Plenty of journalists longed to make the leap to the higher-paying TV spots, but few had the right combination of smarts, chops, and charisma to pull it off. Trena was one of the lucky ones blessed with the innate gift to look into a camera and convincingly relate a story, no matter how banal, that people could not turn away from.
Credibility. Integrity. Authority. They were all qualities she’d worked hard to maintain, and in her line of work she’d be nothing without them. But at the moment, Trena was feeling shaky and unsure. With the cameras set to roll soon, that just wouldn’t do.
She dropped her notes to her lap, placed her right hand to her belly, closed her eyes, and forced herself to take a series of deep, calming breaths. It was an old trick she’d learned as a child from her beloved Noni Moretti, back when Noni’s attempts to teach Trena to meditate had failed to catch on.
As a kid, the idea of stopping her thoughts seemed both ridiculous and impossible. But now, haunted by the troubling images that lurked in the darkest recesses of her brain, Trena couldn’t help but wish she’d tried a little harder back then.
Usually, a nice long run was all it took to shed her anxiety. But the six miles she’d logged on the treadmill just a few hours earlier hadn’t done much to calm her.
She returned to the script. She’d memorized every word, but Trena was a perfectionist who left nothing to chance, and so she dove in once more.
ANNOUNCER: Tonight—on our special live edition, catch the latest, up-to-the-minute news on the body found in Joshua Tree
