"Next time I will. Tell me about your problems."
"I won't bore you with them. All I want is unconditional love right now."
"I'll give you an unconditional hickey if you don't tell me. You know everything about me and I know nothing about you."
The hickey sounded good, but I could tell from the sound of her voice and the fire in her eyes that I had better start talking. I hadn't told her who my father was because I wanted to distance myself from him. Emerge was my project. My father had his foundation and if he liked an organization he might donate thousands of dollars to it. Then he would be made a member of its Golden Circle and be invited to sit at a front table for fundraisers, etc. etc. If he found out about Emerge he could with a stroke of his pen, completely overshadow my poor efforts.
I said, "Okay, I'll tell you my story if you'll promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"You won't contact my father or put him on your mailing list. You have everybody in the entertainment industry on your mailing list as it is; you don't need my father."
"I take it from what you just said that you don't exactly come from a poverty-stricken background. It may shock and distress you, but I'd already figured that out."
Once I got started I couldn't stop. I told her about my father and how I lived in the guest house, rent free, but I helped to take care of the cars, house and grounds, including hiring pool cleaners, gardeners, painters, plumbers, etc. Jacie handled Luz, the housekeeper, but I was careful to maintain her friendship. I told Esther about some of my dealings with Jacie; that made her laugh.
"But my father doesn't give me an allowance, if that's what you're thinking," I said after I'd finished the other stuff.
"I wasn't thinking anything," Esther said, taking my hand. "Don't be so paranoid."
"My baseball card business is getting better all the time."
"I'm sure it is. Now tell me what you've been doing for the last 24 hours."
I had alluded to my trip to San Francisco. I might as well tell her. For it to make sense I had to tell her everything so I gave her a detailed account. When I got to the part about Ned's death, she gasped and two tears ran down her cheeks. I said, "I'm sorry, Esther. This isn't making you laugh like I'm supposed to be doing. It's not good lunch-time talk."
"No, no," she said, taking my hand again. "This is your life. I want to hear it."
I continued my story, and finally concluded by telling about the meeting with my father and Arrow. When I had finished with the details of the meeting I said, without planning it, "And then my father thanked me and arranged to pay me for my time, just as if I were one of his employees. And then he…dismissed me and went back to work." I lapsed into silence.
Esther squeezed my hand and said, "It hurts, doesn't it."
"Well, now that I've got your sympathy, could you lend me a million dollars?" I said, trying to break the lugubrious spell. I looked at my watch. "My God! It's almost 3:15. I've got to get you back."
Esther looked at her own watch and said, "You know what? I really don't feel like going back to Emerge. I think I've done enough for one day."
"What? The workaholic takes time off?"
"I will under one condition," she said, punching the number of her office into her cell phone. "Come with me to my apartment. My ex is taking care of Emilio. I want to take a hot bath. And I need somebody to wash my back-and my front."
I awoke with a very pleasant aroma assailing my nostrils. It took me a few seconds to figure out that the aroma came from Esther and that we were tangled together in the form of a knot tied by an amateur. I lifted my head. The sunlight coming in through the south-facing window slanted sharply from the west. It must be late afternoon.
I looked down again. My eyes were inches from her left nipple, which was surrounded by a perfect aureole. I knew that from past experience because my farsighted eyes couldn’t focus on it. However, I couldn't resist taking a taste. She stirred, but didn't awaken. One taste is never enough, but I had to use the bathroom and something was nagging at the back of my mind.
I carefully untangled myself from Esther. She smiled but slept on. I searched for my watch, walking around the small bedroom a couple of times, and finally found it in one of my shoes. The time was five minutes to six. Six! I was supposed to pick my father up at six.
I grabbed the cordless phone beside the bed and took it into the hall so as not to bother Esther. I punched my father's work number.
After two rings he answered with one word: "Patterson."
"Dad!" I said. "I'm supposed to pick you up at six."
"That's what I'm expecting. Where are you?"
"Um…in west LA, near UCLA."
There was a pause during which I wished I could assure him that I'd be there in five minutes instead of a rush hour 45.
"I'll call Jacie and have her come," he finally said.
It would have been easier to take if he had yelled at me. I hung up, feeling the chill. I walked back into the bedroom with my head down. Esther was awake and looking at me.
"Trouble?" she asked.
"Of my own making."
She held out her arms. "I'll make it all better."
She was totally uncovered. What could I do?
At eight o'clock we ordered a pizza to be delivered. By nine o'clock we were dressed and I was functioning almost like a human being. It occurred to me that I hadn't checked my telephone messages at home for well over 24 hours.
I checked them using Esther's phone. There were three. Two were of minor consequence. The third was from Detective Washington, San Francisco Police Department. She said, "Mr. Patterson, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. Please call me." She gave a number but said she was working the day shift the next few days. She probably wouldn't be there now.
When I hung up, Esther, who was making a career out of reading my face, said, "More trouble?"
I told her about the call.
She said, "It's probably nothing. She wants to fill you in on what's happening."
"Detective Washington isn't the type of person who calls people just to chat. I'd better leave now so I can call her from home first thing in the morning."
"Must you?"
The way Esther kissed me at the door almost melted my resolve. I finally had to break away and go-fast.
Chapter 9 DRUGS
On Thursday morning I woke up at six, a half-hour past my usual time. I drank a glass of water and did some stretching. Then I went for my run, up and down the hills of Palos Verdes, for an hour. My body had been more upset by not running yesterday than by my lack of sleep. I was addicted to running and hated to miss a day. I needed the uplift provided by the endorphins flowing into my blood stream and the stress flowing out.
The route back from my run took me past the post office, where I had a mailbox. I kept this PO box because of my baseball card business and also because I didn't want my father, and particularly Jacie, to monitor my mail.
I went into the post office lobby and opened my mailbox. There were several letters; I could tell from the return addresses that they were from successful bidders for my cards on eBay. They contained checks. Receiving checks in the mail, no matter how small, always buoyed my spirits.
I ran back to the house, took my shower and had breakfast, consisting primarily of orange juice and a large bowl of oatmeal, sprinkled with raw cashew pieces I purchased in bulk at Trader Joe's. It wasn't until I was getting ready to call Detective Washington that I noticed I had a message on my answering machine. It must have been left while I was running.