Taken by Tuesday

Chapter Two



Michael rented a small reception hall and cased in the Dom Pérignon for Judy, her friends, and their families.

Judy floated on a cloud. She’d aced her finals, had the well-earned honors cords around her neck, and a smile on her face that no one could knock off.

Meg stepped into the reception hall, her parents at her side.

Judy ran up and once again that day, threw her arms around her best friend. “We did it.”

“You’re a geek, Gardner. You knew we did it last week.” But Meg was smiling just the same.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal.” She kissed Meg’s parents.

“You make me feel old, Judy.”

Judy shrugged, refusing to call Meg’s parents by their first names. “It’s the way I was raised. Have you met my parents?” She flagged over Janice and Sawyer and introduced them to Meg’s parents. Once the four of them started talking, Judy pulled Meg away.

“C’mon, we need some pictures.”

She started with Mike, but first she needed to drag him away from her other friends, who zeroed in on the celebrity and were asking for autographs.

She hugged her brother and let him lift her and turn her in a circle. “There’s the graduate.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thanks for the party.”

“What’s a rich older brother good for if not a decent graduation party?” Mike knew he was so much more than that.

“This is Meg, by the way.”

Unlike any of her other friends, Meg oozed coolness and none of that fan-girl crap. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mike.”

Mike raised his eyebrow, probably because of the use of his name. Everyone other than family called him Michael. “I heard that the two of you were in a bar fight that may or may not have involved hustling pool.”

Meg shrugged. “Well, there was a bar fight, but we never hustle pool.”

The memory of that night had Judy looking around the room. She’d seen Rick in the back of the VIP box at graduation, but she’d not seen him since.

Judy stopped one of her friends as they walked by. “Can you take our picture?”

Judy sandwiched Mike between herself and Meg and blinked when the camera flashed. The second picture was perfect and she immediately posted it to Facebook.

“We need to get all of the family before anyone leaves,” she told her brother.

“I doubt Mom will let us leave without it.”

The waiter walked by, offered tall flutes filled with champagne, and the three of them toasted the day.

“You sure it’s still OK that Meg and I stay in your place when we get to LA?” Judy had lined up an internship at Benson & Miller Designs, and Meg wanted to see if California had anything to offer. The first couple of months would be easier to handle in a new city with a home base. Her brother’s Beverly Hills home was anything but tiny. Not that she planned to stay there long, just long enough to find a part-time job and for her and Meg to get their own place.

“I’m never there, Judy. I’d appreciate someone I can trust watching over the place while I’m on location. Ask Karen.”

Karen was Mike’s ex-wife, and Zach, their other brother’s new wife. It was a complicated script, and a family secret. Apparently, Mike married Karen as a paper marriage when the studios wanted him to look like he’d settled down. Karen and Mike had never been anything but friends. When Karen and Zach met, apparently, there were some serious sparks and they hooked up. That was a good thing, because Judy liked Karen. She didn’t want to hate the woman because she broke her brother’s heart . . . either of her brothers.

Hannah, her younger sister, snuck up behind them, her cell phone in hand. Meg took pictures of all of them, and before Judy knew it, someone was dragging her away.

She’d shed her cap and gown and danced when the DJ started playing. Seemed everyone enjoyed a good party, and Mike knew how to keep it rolling. Zach and Karen had shown up along with her older sister, Rena, and her husband. The family picture was taken before every hair managed to get out of place.

After an hour of nonstop dancing, Judy stumbled outside to catch her breath and some fresh air. The sun was nearly gone, only a few remaining strands of orange and pink with a scattering of clouds. Seattle had been good to them on their graduation day, and that was rare. Mt. Rainier stood in the distance, a sight she knew she’d miss when she moved to LA. But that’s where her internship was taking her.

Footsteps behind her made her turn around.

Rick, wearing a suit that belonged on a secret service agent, loomed over her. He tilted his head and spoke into a mic she couldn’t see. “I found her. Everything’s fine.”

Judy put her hands up in mock surrender. “Was there a kidnapping threat when I wasn’t looking?”

There was no humor in Rick’s stern expression. “There’s no telling what someone might do to get to your brother.”

Wow! Who knew Rick took his job so seriously? Seems he always had a smile and laughed in the face of adversity.

“Just looking for fresh air, Green Eyes.”

His shoulders relaxed. Even in the suit, he took on the laid-back posture of the man she’d grown used to. “I haven’t seen you all night. How is it you knew I walked away?”

“Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I’m not there . . . watching.”

Lord, if she didn’t know the man . . . or kinda know him, that line might have made her squirm. “Stalker much?” she said even though she knew Rick wasn’t the twisted stalker type.

“Private security is a license to stalk.” He smiled now, as if he was enjoying his own private joke.

“So . . .” She paused, took a breath. “You were on duty . . . or assignment the other night?”

She expected a safe retort, not the truth.

“No. That was personal.” His lips actually lost some of his smile and his eyes peered into her in a way she’d never seen before.

“P-personal?” The cool air around her actually heated.

He tilted his head to the side, as if he was debating what exactly to say. “I take it you passed that final.”

“Hard to graduate without passing your finals. Now, back to that personal thing . . .”

Rick rocked back on his heels. “I wanted to see if the girl I met in Utah had the same amount of fire in her as she did last year. Then I find you hustling pool—”

“Playing for money isn’t hustling. You’re the one who said you hustled pool.”

Rick nodded. “I guess that’s true. Though bets over a hundred usually constitute a hustle.”
     



She pointed at him. “You’re the one who suggested the hundred bucks. I didn’t even have that much on me.”

Rick closed his eyes and dipped his head. “Welching on a bet? So bad.”

“I didn’t welch. You didn’t win!”

“I would have.”

Yeah, he would have . . . they both knew it, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let him know she knew it. “Gee, ego much?”

Rick walked to the side of the open veranda while Judy leaned against the pillar.

“I hear you’re going to stay at your brother’s while you find your own place in LA.”

“Mike tell you that?”

“I do monitor his place when he’s in town and come to events like this with him.”

Judy laughed. “I don’t think his sister’s graduation party is a high-risk event that requires a bodyguard or security.”

He turned to her now and ran a hand over his chin. “You’d be shocked at some of the crap your brother puts up with because of his fame. Living in his home will put you center stage.”

“After last summer, I don’t think I need to worry.”

“Last summer was all about someone else and had nothing to do with Hollywood’s leading man that everyone wants a piece of.”

Rick had her there.

But her adventure with Rick in locating Becky had made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before and gave her confidence. Becky’s parents had kidnapped her, and Rick and Judy drove over half the state of Utah searching for the girl.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Rick’s eyes lost their laughter as he turned his head to the side. He placed a finger to his ear. “Moving inside now.” He closed the space between them and placed a hand on her waist. “Time to go inside.”

“What?” She moved alongside him, looking over her shoulder at the darkened sky.

“Paparazzi spotted on the south lawn looking for a photo op.”

“I doubt they care about me.”

Rick leaned in. “Anonymity is your friend.”

Inside, the music seemed even louder, and before she could say his name, Rick was walking away. His parting words were, “See you in LA, Utah.”

At least he didn’t call her babe.



The apartment she and Meg shared in Seattle had come furnished, perfect for college students who didn’t have money. Only now, they didn’t have anything! They had their cars, their clothes, and boxes of personal stuff that didn’t need a home outside of an attic for a while. Moving into Mike’s home was a blessing and also brought to light that she and Meg had a lot to accomplish before they could move out and do more than sleep on the floor.

Two guest rooms sat on the opposite side of Mike’s room in the massive house. Both Meg and Judy piled boxes into them, using the closet space and cluttering up the en suite bathrooms.

“I can’t believe your brother is letting us stay here. This place is amazing.”

Meg’s enthusiasm matched her own. Mike’s taste was off the charts. His Spanish-influenced palette of colors and textures complemented the rambling mission-style home and stucco walls. The massive great room opened up to the chef’s kitchen and dining room. Double glass doors opened to a courtyard that spread for at least a quarter acre, complete with fountains and a view of the city below. Judy couldn’t wait to explore every inch of the house and property.

“And we have our own bathrooms. Do you have any idea what it was like growing up in a house with so many people and only two toilets?”

“Not a clue,” Meg said. She was an only child and didn’t have to share a Barbie, let alone a sink and commode.

Now the light in the bathroom actually turned on when they walked into the room, no need to adjust a switch or anything. Both of them were about to embark on a style of living neither of them had any experience with.

The sound of Karen’s voice rang from the front of the house.

“Back here.” Judy brushed her hands together, removing some of the dirt that had accumulated from the stacks of boxes.

Karen’s blonde hair and bubbly personality moved with her into the guest room. In her hand, she held the foam board that Meg and Judy had laughingly placed in the back window of Judy’s car on the drive down. California or Bust sat in bright green letters with stars and smiley faces surrounding the text. It was juvenile and perfect for their postgraduation trip to LA.

“Look who made it in one piece.” Karen tossed the foam board on the bed and accepted Judy’s hug.

“I swear it took longer to get from Santa Barbara to here than it did from San Francisco to Santa Barbara.”

“Welcome to LA traffic. Might want to get used to it if you plan on staying.”

“My internship lasts six months . . . from there, who knows.”

Meg walked into the room and offered a wave. “Hey, Karen.”

The two greeted each other with a hug before Karen dragged them from the guest rooms. “I think you both need to know what it’s going to be like living in this house.”

Karen had lived there for over a year as Mike’s wife. Only she and Mike were never really “together,” no, their marriage had been arranged in order to make Hollywood and the producers of the films Mike starred in think he was happily married. The ruse was meant to last a year and then fade away. It did fade, but not in the nice, calm manner Karen and Mike wanted. Karen met Judy’s other brother, Zach, and the two really fell for each other. Needless to say, the media had a field day with the entire affair and littered the tabloids for months after the divorce.

Something Judy realized during those few months was that Hollywood, and the plastic lifestyle that followed her older brother, was nothing but an illusion. She still didn’t think she knew the entire truth about her brother and Karen’s brief marriage, but living in LA in her brother’s home would probably bring her up to speed.

“It’s going to be great,” Meg said as they stepped onto the back patio and took in the view of the city below.

“The house . . . the grounds . . . all this is amazing. The men showing up with cameras when you least expect them, and even when you do expect them, that is going to be a pain in your ass. You might think it’s funny the first couple of times, and then you’ll just be ticked.”

“How bad can it be?” Meg asked with a laugh.

“It shouldn’t be awful for the two of you, but you never know. After the first few times the paparazzi show up, snap a few pictures, and realize that Judy is Michael’s sister, and that you’re her friend, they will probably dry up. When Michael is back in town, they’ll show up again. It’s like they have a tracker on him. They hop the fence, risk being taken to jail for trespassing . . . you name it, they do it.” Karen moved to the center of the courtyard and turned toward the house.

“Has anyone ever tried to get into the house?”

“Not when I was here. After the divorce, there was one break-in, but Michael wasn’t home when it happened. That’s when Neil and Rick upped the sensors and alarms.”

Judy had used a key to unlock the door and an electronic sensor to disarm the house alarm.

“Cameras all over the place.”

Judy twisted around and looked to the eaves of the house. There were a couple of domed cameras she recognized from those she’d seen in department stores. “I see them.” Judy pointed above their heads.
     



“Yeah, but there are even more you don’t see.” Karen pointed toward a decorative light post that would illuminate a path to the back of the yard. “That one covers the back. There are others on the three identical posts on the side of the house and in the front. A camera watches every car that enters. There are motion detectors that hit the floodlights and can be a huge pain when the wind kicks up. You’ll usually get a call from security when they sense any unexpected activity.”

“Why not just shut off the motion detectors when the weather is foul?” Judy asked.

“Because that’s when the camera-toting buttheads show up. They understand the security better than you do.”

Meg shrugged. “So they snap a few pictures and move on . . . who cares?”

“I guess if you only had to worry about a few unflattering pictures in the tabloids, that would be fine. But there are fanatical creeps out there, too. Michael’s fame comes with a price.”

They moved around the yard, and Karen showed them more sensors, more cameras, and then moved back into the house. “There aren’t any cameras inside the house. Michael refused them. Sensors monitor every door and window.” The three of them moved to the control panel and Karen went through a few steps to show them how the security system worked. How to set the alarms when they both were away . . . when they were in for the night and didn’t want the alarm going off when they walked into the kitchen for a glass of milk. There were panic buttons hardwired into the system and even a three-digit number that called security directly from the house phone.

“So who watches the cameras?”

Karen shrugged. “Depends who’s on. Neil has a team monitoring twenty-four/seven.”

Judy ran a hand through her hair and tugged it behind her neck. “Does Rick watch?”

“Sometimes.” Karen’s grin grew a little bigger.

“What?”

Karen laughed. “Nothing.”

Judy glanced at Meg and noticed her larger-than-life smile as well. “What?”

Where Karen might hold herself back from saying what she thought, Meg did not. “We’re here less than two hours and you’re asking about Rick.”

“I asked if he monitors the house, watches the cameras.” The question was legit inside her head. “It’s not a personal question.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Meg shook her head.

“Was that a personal question, Karen?”

Karen bit her lip and shook her head. “Nope. You did not ask a personal question about Rick. A little word of advice, however . . . conversations outside have microphones that record them. Just so you know . . . in case you want to ask questions about Rick.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“That’s just crazy.”

Karen grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter. “So, what’s first on your list, girls?”

Meg sat on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. “I’m starting my job search tomorrow.”

“And I’m going to drive by the offices in Westwood so I know where the heck I’m going next week.” Judy had a little more of a slush fund than Meg and wouldn’t have to find a job the very week she started her internship.

“How many hours a week are you putting in with the internship?” Karen asked.

“I was told thirty to forty.”

“That doesn’t leave a lot of time to work for pay.”

Judy cringed. “I know. Not in the business sector in any event. I waited tables in Seattle, I can look for something like that.”

Meg groaned. “If I never wait on anyone ever again it will be too soon. I need to land something clean where I won’t get my ass pinched.”

Karen and Judy both laughed.

“You have a business degree, right?” Karen asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm . . . well, Samantha’s looking for help at Alliance.”

“What’s Alliance?” Judy asked.

“It’s an elite matchmaking firm.”

“A dating business?” Meg asked with a frown.

“No, much more than that. Very exclusive and only for the überrich. We match couples based on their long-term plans. Some executives need a temporary wife to land a position at their job, or a girlfriend to get their ex off their backs.”

“Where do you find the women who agree to this?” Judy asked.

“Everywhere. Industry parties, fundraisers, there are plenty of women looking for a short-term contractual agreement with a payout when the ‘relationship’ dissolves.”

Awareness slapped Judy upside the head. “Oh my God! That’s how you met Mike!”

Karen wiggled her eyebrows and shot a glance at Meg.

“Oh, please . . . Meg is my best friend. She knows you and Mike were married in name only. It makes sense now.”

“Michael needed a wife and I wanted to open up a safe house for runaway or abandoned kids. It was a win-win for both of us. More so for me since I met Zach.” And Mike’s career had just kept on skyrocketing after the divorce. Seemed her brother always had another starlet on his arm in the tabloids, but none worthy of introducing to his family. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to settle down. Who could blame him? He had the world at his fingertips and few homelife responsibilities.

Judy understood that. She wanted to find herself before she invited anything steady into her world. The thought of a temporary and fake relationship in order to put some money in her accounts didn’t sound half bad.

Meg must have been thinking the same thing when she asked, “How do you screen people for this service? My guess is there are a lot of wackos out there that might try and sue, or have issues that could really mess with a spouse, temporary or otherwise.”

“Samantha places everyone in our directory through a very thorough background check. I don’t care how hidden someone thinks their skeletons are, Samantha finds them. And in order to work for her, you have to be willing to go through her check. It’s imperative that nothing in our files is leaked.”

“Sounds very cloak and dagger,” Meg said.

“Nothing so dramatic, but the people we deal with have serious money and expect complete secrecy. The pay isn’t bad and with The Village taking more of my time and Gwen busy with the baby, we could use the help.”

“Where is the office located?” Seemed Meg was seriously considering Karen’s suggestion.

“Samantha started the business in a two-story house in Tarzana and the office is still there.”

“How do you keep a house in a residential neighborhood secure?”

Karen laughed. “Oh, hon . . . first of all, Rick lives there now, and let’s face it, he’s a huge roadblock to anyone who might want to break in. And second, the security at that house makes this one look like a child’s lock on a paper diary. Gwen and I lived there before I married Michael, and before I moved in, Eliza was there with Samantha. Seems like anyone who lives in the house is destined to get married within a year.”

Meg cringed. “Remind me never to move in.”

“Not interested in happily ever after?”

Meg shook her head. “Wouldn’t mind happy for now with a paycheck, but forever . . . yeah, no . . . not for me.”

Karen glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Well, I gotta go. Let me know if you’re interested, Meg . . . and Judy, Samantha even pays finder’s fees for male and female clients. You’ll probably find yourself in some really flashy parties hanging out with your brother. Something to think about.”