Hyeonverse: A Ticket to Nevada Ch. 02 of 02

My mind replayed my interactions with Josh since we met, how familiar we'd grown over the last month, his lewd taunting and playful hugs, his raunchy jokes, and sexual innuendos and how it had all backfired so horrendously. How anyone looking from the outside could misconstrue our relationship, especially an estranged husband. Heck, I would have hired a P.I. myself, if I saw Bill acting that intimate with a female colleague. How could I have been so stupid? I was a grown-up woman, for fuck's sake. I had attended Dutchess.

It took me a while to get over the urge to punch myself.

My phone's GPS tracker had been switched on and diving deeper, I found a suspicious app recently installed: EyesOnMe.

Googling it confirmed my fears; someone had been spying on my every move, my every text. No wonder the phone's battery was always low as of late. Couldn't be Bill, he would have read my texts and found out there is nothing going on between Josh and I, except probably way too many debates about fellatio techniques.

My eyes kept returning to the yellow Taser gun lying on the nightstand.

It was still there when a cab picked us up to take us to the Centaur One meeting.

Good thing, because there was a metal detector at their office building's lobby, courtesy of all the nutcases who took issue with some of the titles the company publishes.

Raven Skies Press' lawyer, Stan Kolich, was waiting for us, sweating buckets. I had seen him in Maggie's office a couple times and word was he was good at his job. Good, but not magic. He couldn't do miracles if someone at the company had fucked up.

"Stan, you've met Annabel Stroker, my assistant." Maggie reintroduced us. "Annie, Stan."

"Pleasure to see you again, Annie." Stan smiled. "Wish it was under happier auspices."

"Huge fan, Mr. Kolish," I replied, trying to lighten up the spirits. "What a mess this is, uh?"

"Yeah, old Barney is pissed." Stan groaned. "Elliot still had one book with the Centaur One Media Group under his contract. They claim his parting gift to them was unprintable rubbish."

"Not our fault the old git wanted to give them the finger one last time, why must we pay the piper?" Maggie grumbled. "This is all ego crap, the boys had a falling out and we're the scapegoat."

Stan shrugged and marched up to an administrative assistant.

Moments later, we were dumped in a somber room populated by a host of bleak suits. At their head sat Centaur One Media's top dog, the grave Barney Griffith IV.

Barney was after Maggie's head before the introductions had even finished:

"Banana Republic, is it? You think you can just waltz in here, steal our authors, dump some guano on our laps and we'll take it and run with it, is it, Maggie?" Barney hissed, sliding a pile of sheets, the manuscript of After Belphegor, across the huge oak table toward her. "This is excrement; pure and unadulterated merde. And you can take this to the bank; we will have you eating it."

"Barney, I... I am sorry you feel that way." Maggie stuttered. "I've actually read excerpts of After Belphegor and I happen to agree with some of the critics who consider it..."

"What critics, online bloggers? Glorified fanboys and yes-men? You screwed me, Maggie, this is dung," Barney shouted, while his flunkies scrambled to keep things civil.

"Fuck off, Andy; this is just an informal meeting. Do you see any mics?" Barney growled at one of his lawyers.

"Mr. Griffith, we have come here in good faith." Stan sweated. "You know there was no ill will on our part when we approached E. M.Parker, everything was handled through the proper channels, and no clauses were broken."

"Come off it, Barney, you know Elliot and his agent are wooed by six publishers before breakfast. He was done with Centaur One, if we hadn't gotten him, someone else would." Maggie defended herself.

"And how exactly did you get him, Maggie? What trick did you use to sink your talons on the old goat?" Barney leaned in the weight of his eyebrows on her. Maggie didn't budge.

It was the most well-kept secret over at Raven Skies Press, after the Alexander Waiting manuscript itself.

From his intimate connection with E. M. Parker, cultivated during his tenure at Centaur One, Robert had learned about Elliot's fondness for blue Moroccan tiles and had advised Maggie to lure him in with a juicy package that included his old uncle's dilapidated house in Chefchaouen. Old Elliot was returning to his childhood roots filled with shades of white and blue.

"Need-to-know only," Maggie dodged his inquiry with a timid smile and Barney leaned back, giving up trying to prod into her mind.

"And then there is this Alexander Waiting crap," he lifted one of the printed pages by his side to his face. "We've read the samples your site posted online to juice readers' appetites. It's good. Oh, it's very good! I particularly like this paragraph in Chapter 2, where the author rubs it in by making a veiled mockery outta After Belphegor."

"Mr. Griffith..." Stan stuttered. "We have convinced Elliot to remove those passages from the last, cleaned up version of Alexander Waiting."

"Too little, too late, it's all over the internet now. Readers have posted memes in our Forums, for fuck's sake. You've made a mockery of us and I'm taking you to court, Maggie." Barney growled. "We will fucking eat you alive, if it's the last thing I do! God help me, I will turn Raven Skies Press into a fucking desert of glass!"

"Heee.Heee," Michael Jackson chimed in from my cell phone.

Everybody in the room turned to me in disbelief and I excused myself, wishing the floor would gobble me.

It was an audio file. RSP_00047.

The sound quality was awful, a cacophony of car honks, brakes shrieking, people shouting and whistles, but I recognized Robert's voice whispering:

"Goddammit, Sharon, do we have to go through this every fucking time? It's been over a year now, I did not try to rape Corinne." When was this recording made? Sharon... he was on the phone with his wife. "Yeah? Yeah, well I don't care what you think you almost walked in on, I've never touched her, period. Fuck!"

There was silence; he must have ended the call.

"Fucking cunt," Robert growled. And then, he mumbled to himself. "I wasn't trying to rape that fucking kid, you stupid bitch. I was trying to kill her."

What did this mean? Corinne, where did I know that name from? Corinne...

"Barney, we... we've known each other for years," Maggie stuttered. "We're all friends here, the publishing world is too small for this bickering. We're dying out there, nobody reads. You have a grievance with Elliot, you talk to him. You are just venting your anger on us."

"He won't talk to me. After thirty years. I broke my arm protecting the moron at the Tompkins Square Park riots, for crying out loud! I don't know what you've said to him, but somehow, you've poisoned Elliot against us. Against me, can you believe it?" Barney shouted. "And now you come in here prancing about in your Brunello suit, professing ignorance? It's an insult! You are insulting us, you are insulting me!"

"Heee.Heee," Michael sounded again. The room fell into silence.

"Maggie, it would appear your poodle wants to go for a walk," Barney growled while Maggie, Stan and the rest of the room stared at me.

"I... I am sorry," I replied, getting up. It was a video file now. "I'm s-so sorry, excuse me."

As I rushed for the door, I looked back to see Maggie curved on her seat, Marie Antoinette at the guillotine.

It was an interview.

A teenage girl sat with her head down, crying silently. Corinne. I remembered her now. Corinne Pritchard, E. M. Parker's granddaughter and his sole surviving relative.

"Grandpa says nobody will believe me, they'll say I have no proof." She muttered in tears.

"Well, do you, Corinne?" A woman asked off camera, a jade bracelet on her wrist as she stroked the girl's arm.

"N...no," she replied. "But he did. He did attack me."

"Robert. Robert Rice, the editor from Centaur One Media Group?" The woman's deep voice echoed. "Was he the one who attacked you, Corinne?"

"... Yes..." She whispered.

I burst into the meeting, making all heads turn.

"Mr. Kolich," I called Stan."I think you will wanna see this."

Stan and Maggie's eyes bulged out of their sockets. Moments later, my phone had circled the whole table, showing everyone both the video and the audio file.

Stan and Maggie's heads rose like Phoenixes reborn.

"I'm sorry, Barney, but isn't that E. M. Parker's granddaughter, Corinne Pritchard?" Maggie asked. "And she claims that she was attacked by Robert Rice, at the time working for the Centaur One Media Group?"

Barney's face was pale.

"Could this be why E. M. Parker defected from Centaur One and joined Raven Skies Press?" Maggie continued, her voice reverberating across the room like a modern-day Boudicca. "Why he sent you that awful After Belphegor manuscript as a "farewell and fuck you"?"

Barney and his lawyers gathered their heads, whispering between themselves.

"Mr. Griffith, apparently the girl herself admits there are no evidence of the assault, only her word and E. M.Parker's. Even this audio file of Mr. Rice's admission would never be admitted in a court of law since it was clearly taken without his authorization." Stan joined Maggie on the counter-offensive. "But it does shed some light into the reasons behind Elliot's flight from the Centaur One Media Group and his poisoned goodbye kiss. You had a serpent in your garden, Mr. Griffith."

Barney stared at Stan.

Then, he stared at Maggie. Finally, he stared at me. I could almost read his mind, wondering if I really was just a lowly assistant.

"Mrs... what was it, your name again?" he inquired.

"Stroker," I replied. "Mrs. Annabel Stroker.

Barney's pupils dilated and Maggie strangled a giggle.

"Well, I, you... hrrm, thank you for the evidence you brought to our attention, Mrs., er... Mrs. Annabel..." Barney stuttered. He looked at his closest lawyer who shrugged. "This... this new revelation most definitely warrants a further investigation into Mr. Rice's dealings with Elliot and his granddaughter, even if he's no longer part of our company. We should look into these allegations with diligence."

"Most definitely agreed," Stan nodded. Maggie and I joined in, nodding as well. The other side of the table mirrored us.

"Well, like I was saying, Maggie, uh... this is no Banana Republic. This whole affair is indeed quite unpleasant but... as I often say, the publishing world is a small one and, well, us publishers need to flock together and all that." Barney stuttered, almost pleading. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Grievances aside, we are all friends here, Barney," Maggie flashed her most beautiful smile. "Aren't we?"

Barney's lawyers nodded to us and to each other. "Why, yes, of course, hm, definitely, that goes without saying, hrrm, yes, all in the same boat and all."

"I'm sure if I put some of my good ole moxy to work, I could lure old Elliot out for a powwow with you." She elaborated, "After all, you go way back, don't you? You broke an arm defending him. A friendship like that shouldn't be thrown away just because of a rotten apple in an otherwise very fine basket, if I may say so myself."

"Yes, yes, most definitely," the suits bobbed their heads in agreement.

"Thirty years," Barney sighed, articulating his arm. "It still hurts when I do this."

"That's true friendship, right there." Maggie continued with a smile. "And he still owes you one last book, doesn't he? The best book Elliot has ever written, this time?"

Barney nodded and his tense shoulders lowered, relaxing. His ghoulish expression softened and I suddenly realized he was probably quite handsome in his youth.

"God, that After Belphegor was pure shite." He groaned, making Maggie burst into laughter. He joined her with a loud guffaw that filled the room: "Utter crap!"

"Yes, it was, Barney," Maggie grinned at him. "Yes, it was."

A bottle of Richebourg was produced, and soon the whole room joined in merriment. Some of it was pure relief.

"Annie, remember when I said I owed you one for coming to Ohio with me?" Maggie grinned. Her smile hadn't faded since we left the Centaur One meeting. "Fuck, the whole company owes you one; you and Michael Jackson just single-handedly saved Raven Skies Press. Who was it on the other side, anyway? No, I don't care; just ask me anything, anything you want... except a month-long vacation, of course."

"Well..." I smiled back at her, malice in my eyes.

"Ok, not anything-anything," she grinned, leaning back.

"My husband needs surgery; busted nerve cluster on his back from an IED shrapnel." I lowered my head. "It's bad..."

"How bad is the damage?" She asked, concerned. I had never told her, I had never told anyone at work.

"Twelve thousand-bad," I shrugged, tearing up. "Insurance won't cover it."

Maggie's eyes bulged.

"That's it? Fuck, that's it?" She held my shoulders, shaking me. "Consider it done, baby! I'll take it from my own fucking pocket if I have to, consider it done!"

THE BLUE BUTTERFLIES

We arrived at the Lindy Lodge shortly after noon.

My clothes still smelled of Maggie's Organza by Givenchy, from the barrage of crushing hugs she had given me. Keep this up and Trish would have words to say.

I hadn't removed my coat or dropped my purse on the bed and she was already in her room screaming through the walls, furious:

"What do you mean, you can't reach him? I want that fucker cut off. Gone! Anything he leaves behind, any connection to Raven Skies, torch it! I'm heading straight to the office when we land tomorrow evening and I wanna smell napalm!"

They couldn't reach him? Where was Robert?

'He is here.'

I reached for the Taser, still on the nightstand. Robert had tried to murder Corinne Pritchard. Robert was AWOL. Robert grew up in Akron. He had worked in this very lodge as a bellhop.

I locked myself in my room, staring at the Taser. How did these things work, anyway? The next hour was spent online watching YouTube videos until I got the hang of it.

"Come at me, motherfucker," I rehearsed in front of the mirror, drawing it from my purse and aiming it at my reflection. I thought of calling Josh. No, if Bill did come to Akron to catch us together, he would murder him.

The sun was lowering on the horizon when exhaustion started looming in over me. It was just 5pm, why did I feel so drained? Maggie was sound asleep, snoring when I knocked on her door. Good for you, girl, and these last couple weeks had been Hell.

Sitting in my room, my mind drifted to my own personal hell at home. Would I ever manage to mend the chasm with Bill? What could he be thinking of me, watching Josh and I at the office, our little gestures of affection? Would I still have a marriage when I get back? God, I wanted to die, how could I have let it get this bad? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Billy", Phil Collins screamed from my cell phone. "Billy, don't you lose my number."

It was Bill's ringtone. My arms flew to it.

"Bill? Bill, is that you?" I poured my heart into the ether. Silence. "Bill, talk to me, please."

"I saw you." Bill whispered into the phone. His voice was strange, almost deranged. "I saw you with him. I saw him put his hands on you. I saw you do things for him you don't do for me anymore. Is he in there with you right now, Annie? Making love to you?"

"Bill... Bill, please listen. Josh is gay. There is nothing between us." I cried into the phone. " Bill, I only love you, I've only loved you."

There was silence on the other side. Then I heard an icy laugh crackling that filled me with dread.

" Liar!" he screamed. "You fucking liar!"

"No, Bill, please, listen, it's true." I begged. "Call his boyfriend. Call Trish, she has his emergency contact. Ask for Johnny Lund, he's a family counsellor. Please believe me, Josh only sees me as his pet project to make him forget how he's twenty-three and still doesn't know what to do with his life."

Silence again. No, I could hear it. Bill was crying.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter anymore." His crying turned into a haunting whisper that chilled me to the bones. "You are gone, aren't you? You've been gone for years, now, I just hadn't realized. You died with Sara. I just forgot to bury you. I miss you, I miss your dimples. I haven't seen them in so long. The house is so empty now, it's just me and Sue and your walking corpse."

"No, Bill, please listen, I..." I pleaded into the void. He had hung up. Please, Bill. My marriage was over. Depression took hold of me. I must have sat staring at the walls for quite a while before I finally rolled over and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The room was dark when I woke up. It was nighttime.

Where were you, Bill? Were you in Akron? Watching my room's window? Waiting for Josh to arrive so you could catch us both in bed? I opened the curtains, it was pitch black outside.

How long was I out?

'Look at me, Bill,' I wanted to shout into the night. I am here, there is no illicit affair. There never was.

The Skype tune startled me. My husband's parents were calling. Closing the curtains, I sat on my bed and put on my earbuds.

"Mommy!" Sue screamed on my laptop screen and suddenly, all my worries took second stage.

"Lollipop, how are you? How are Grandpa Mike and Grandma Steph, you giving them any trouble?" I gave her my best smile. "You did your homework already?"

"They want to send me to bed! It's only eight o'clock, tell them, Mommy!" She pleaded; making her puppy dog face and an irresistible urge to hug her took hold of me. "At home, I only go to bed at nine thirty!"

"Well, you're not home; you're at your grandparents', baby. Grandpa needs to wake you up earlier tomorrow to drive you to school." I stood my ground and she moaned on the other side. I wish I could do that eyebrow thing Bill does that makes her fall in line on her own volition. "Call Grandpa Mike, I wanna speak to him."

"Ojiisan," I heard her scream off camera. In came Mike, pulling a chair, cell phone in hand.

"Hi, Dad, you've spoken to Bill?" I asked, worried. My concern for his state of mind came flooding back, after the disturbing phone call.

"We've still heard nothing. We've talked to Carla at your house a couple hours ago when she came to drop Sue. She says she overheard Trish talking to Bill on the phone this afternoon." Wrinkles of worry crisscrossed Grandpa Mike's face while Sue leaned back, trying to climb on his chair. "Baby, there's only room for one, come on!"

"Bill called Trish? Why?" I was shocked. Trish and Carla weren't on speaking terms since the Rollo episode, so Carla wouldn't have asked her what the call was about.

"Bill was looking for someone named Tom, from Akron. Do you know him?" Grandpa Mike asked. I could see it in his eyes, trying to connect the dots. 'Are you having an affair with this Tom guy, Annie? Is that why Bill is so distraught, Annie? You're cheating on my boy, Annie?' I channeled my poker face, the one that had earned me so much pocket money back at Dutchess.

"Yeah, Professor Tom Flory, he teaches gay studies at Kent State University and used to date Johnny Lund, a family counselor who sometimes writes children's books for Raven Skies Press." It wasn't a lie, but I felt guilty as I watched Mike's eyebrows relax. I had left out the part where Josh was crashing at his cabin for two days; in the off chance that Robert came to Akron to catch me alone in his home turf. I had left out the part where I'd just received a spooky call from Bill lifted straight from The Shining. Too many omissions, my stomach tied a knot. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I'll go check."