On the Edge

  He hooked her hair behind her ears, not meeting her gaze. “My track record with women is listed in Wikkipedia under short-term relationships. I have to ask myself if it’s because of some hereditary gene or because my father raised me to treat women the same way he did.”

  “Blue – ”

  “There’s more.” He swallowed. “Dad had a way of disciplining us that was unorthodox. By today’s standards, it might have even been classified as…abusive.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sure he didn’t – ”

  “He did. Maddy, he locked me in a casket! He chained me to a dog house!” His sharp voice elicited a growl from Mr. Jiggles. “When I turned eighteen, I stopped talking to him. I swore I’d never be like him. I swore I’d never work at the Dooley Foundation. I swore I’d never live by his Rules!”

  Her stomach bunched and twisted over the agony Blue had been put through. Fathers were supposed to love their kids unconditionally. “And yet…”

  “I’ve sold out.” His words were uneven, potholed with pain. “I’ve run through my share of women. And now I’m working at the Foundation.”

  “You don’t know the Rules.” And she couldn’t tell him what little she knew. Not only did it compromise her as the show’s producer, but she didn’t know everything. She’d been given snippets, like Poppa Bert’s pearls of wisdom.

  Her heart cracked. She felt the fissure like a knife in her chest. Pain drove her out of bed. “I have to go.” She snatched her clothes, yanking them on. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps.

  “Wait.” He came to her, so comfortable and beautiful in his nakedness she wanted to cry. “We can work this out. You helped me at Winnie’s.”

  “I can’t. As a producer, I can’t.” She held back a sob, struggling with the hooks of her bra. “I put my faith in you. I wagered Poppa Bert’s albums.”

  “I know.” With gentle fingers, he straightened her bra. Tenderly, he dressed her.

  She was too numb to protest. She was too lost in grief, staring at their bare feet, lover’s distance apart on the carpet while he zipped her skirt. She shook her head, which seemed to jog her brain back into function-mode. “Since Dooley died, everything about the Dooley Foundation is a lie. You’re misrepresenting yourselves.”

  “Amber knows all of Dad’s secrets.”

  Amber, not Blue. And certainly not Cora.

  “This changes everything. How could you possibly hope to help these women?”

  “Divine intervention?” His smile attempted to charm.

  Maddy’s numbness gave way to pain again, the stabbing, double-over and die pain of heartbreak. Somehow she managed to remain standing. “Did you sleep with me thinking you could seduce me into helping you with the Rules?”

  “No.” He raised her chin so she was forced to look at him. “I have many sins, but that’s not one of them. Christ, Maddy. An hour ago I wanted to date you.”

  “Date me?” She choked out a laugh, the sound of which must have finally worn down his patience.

  “You’re going to date me, Maddy.” There was an odd quality to his voice, a low growling blend of anger, hurt, and doubt, as if he felt the world was against him. As if he felt she was against him for no good reason. “I didn’t ask to be put in this situation. You came to us, remember? I’m going to get through this hell and then we’re going to date like a normal couple.”

  It was official. Blue had gone off the deep end. “What does that mean? Date? You’ve dated other people.”

  “It was more like hanging out. Dating is exclusive. I’ve never asked a woman to date me.”

  “You…I don’t even know how to respond to that. I should have listened to logic last night.” Not tequila. “I don’t trust you. Not with my career. And certainly not with…on a personal level.” She looked around for her shoes, already slipping into producer disaster mode. “If Amber knows what to do, call her. When you show up today – and you will show up today to coach Jenny – I’m going to film every minute, regardless of what you think it does to your reputation, your family’s reputation or your sensitive ego.”

  “Don’t do this, Maddy. Don’t shut me out.” He reached for her, but she swatted his hands away.

  “Your lies could destroy my chance at my dreams.” Maddy knew she couldn’t turn off her feelings for him with a flip of a switch. But she could hide behind Auntie Maddy. “But I’m your producer. I’m not going to shut you out at work. But this…” She gestured to the bed. “This is over. Now, call me a cab.”

  L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln

  …Will Vivian Gordon be the next woman to join the Playboy Avengers? She was seen with heartbreaker, Blue Rule, having a cozy dinner last night.

  …I must say that the firing of the Flash’s coach was a surprise, especially after he guided the NBA team to the playoffs two years in a row. What is Jack Gordon thinking? Is this an indication that the team can’t survive? Many cities dream of an NBA team and L.A. seems to have one team too many.

  Chapter 26

  The morning of filming pre-matchmaking counseling had dawned.

  Things were about to go from shitty to shittier.

  Blue had no idea what to do with Jenny today. He’d hoped that Maddy would give him a hint, a jump-start, like she’d done at Winnie’s. That backfired. He’d hurt her by trying to short-cut the process. He’d thought she’d understand when he told her about his father that he needed her help. Whatever help she could give. Turned out she couldn’t give him anything.

  He had a shell of a plan: sit Jenny down and ask her why she couldn’t grow up. Why she tied her self-worth to sex. But nothing had come to him about how to improve her dating life.

  Maddy was going to film him falling flat on his face. He had no chance to prove himself, because he had no way to contact Amber on her honeymoon.

  He dressed carefully, as if for his own funeral.

  The last thing he did before he left the rental house was to check the messages on his cell. He had one voicemail message. With his luck, it’d be from one of the Avengers.

  “Blue?” The static behind Amber’s voice crackled louder than popping popcorn. “We’re in St. Maarten. I only have a few minutes before Evan makes me hang up or we’ll miss the last boat back to the ship.”

  Static cut in again.

  “ – are you doing? Have you learned anything from Dad’s picture? I’m not supposed to say anything, but I have this feeling that you need to know. It’s about his code – ” Staticky-static. “ – are in the picture. Don’t show anyone else. Not Cora or Gemma.” There was a pause. “Damn, I’ve got to go. I’ll try and call you from the next port, but don’t forget what I told you about the picture, okay? Love you.”

  Since when did his sister say she loved him? Must be that honeymoon elixir. Blue felt oddly touched.

  He erased Amber’s message and drove in to work early, wondering about his dad’s doodles. What could possibly help him in a garden picture his father had drawn? All anyone saw was a naked woman. Blue saw only flowers. He’d never been good with Where’s Waldo either.

  After their dad died, he and Amber had spent an afternoon going through Dooley’s files trying to figure out what the scribbled artwork in the files meant. Blue believed his father had been bored. Except…there were a lot of dog doodles in his folders. And there was the dog rescue on retainer. And hadn’t Cora said something about dogs in the picture in his office?

  Blue arrived at the Dooley Foundation before seven, long before anyone else. He turned on the lights and made a pot of coffee. Mr. Jiggles pranced around his feet, carrying his ball. Maddy and her film crew would arrive sometime in the next hour or so. Jenny was due closer to ten. When they returned to his office, Mr. Jiggles rolled on the floor, twisting until the pom on his top knot looked like a pink and gray beret.

  “I wish you could be the comic relief today and not me.” He couldn’t put it off any longer. With a sigh, Blue picked up the picture Cora and Maddy
seemed to think depicted naked women. Amber claimed his father’s secret code was in it. Blue still didn’t see anything but flowers. And since his dad had drawn this, he had no real interest in spending the time to study it.

  Mr. Jiggles kicked his legs into the air and growled, as if to say try harder.

  Blue shook his head, staring at the picture until his vision blurred. The stalks had full leaves supporting a single flower. A shallow, twisted root ran lengthwise beneath the ground. He traced the root with his finger.

  And then he saw her – the naked woman. She was the root, half reclining, looking over her shoulder at him. Her hair twined up into one stalk that burst through the ground, her arm became another.

  Blue peered closer. There was a word on her back, a word made with the bend and flow of the lines of her shoulders, the bend in her waist, the line of her buttocks: Love.

  The flower stalks had been drawn with tiny, short strokes that bent and stretched delicately skyward. He squinted, because the strokes almost looked like…

  “Words.” Blue collapsed into his chair. “Holy fuck.”

  The words were different on each stalk.

  “Selfish. Abandoned. Silver spoon.” There were more. His finger traced the smaller stems that disappeared into the leaves. Each branch had a message as well. “Spiritual Transformation. Dog Gone.”

  Some leaves were wilted, others lush and full. Names were etched on the leaves with each stroke of his father’s pencil. One large, healthy green leaf had Cal Lazarus’ name. Legend had it that when Cal was younger he was so cocky and rude he’d almost sabotaged his career, at least until he’d taken on Dooley Rule as his life coach.

  And there was Cora’s name on the Selfish stem. Her leaf wasn’t as large as Cal’s, and it was brown around the edges, as if Dooley’s program hadn’t been completely successful (it hadn’t been).

  Blue found his name on one stalk – Dog Gone. The veins of the green leaf with his name looked like a dog. There was also a small green leaf with his name low on the Selfish branch. The leaf cradled a small flower.

  “In their shoes,” Blue read the words on the branch. “In their shoes…”

  A trace of a memory surfaced. Painful, but also – now – painfully clear.

  He’d been making fun of Cora’s shoes.

  “They’re like stilts made for sluts,” he joked as Cora stumbled yet again in the carpeted hallway of their dad’s house.

  His father had made Blue strap on a pair of high-heeled sandals and wear them the rest of the day. It was embarrassing as hell, and harder than it looked. He’d vowed then and there that anyone who could walk in those shoes deserved a bit of respect.

  And now the picture made sense. This was his father’s legacy. This picture represented the steps Dooley took to help people grow, open up, and find love. His father’s success wasn’t due to luck or quirkiness. He had methods. His father must have known that his system could be stolen, his files broken into, the confidentiality of his clients compromised. Tricky bastard had hidden everything in plain sight.

  This was the key to Dooley’s life coaching system – tough love that people paid a mint for. Blue felt some of the bitterness he’d held toward his father fade. Seeing the layers of complexity in the picture made Blue think that his father hadn’t been manic or cruel to his children. He’d been a stern disciplinarian, but he hadn’t gone psycho, pulling punishments out of the air when his kids misbehaved. He’d just gone overboard.

  It would take a long time for Blue’s resentment to fade completely, but for the first time since coming to work at the Foundation, Blue didn’t feel like a sell-out. Because this was proof that his dad tried to do what he thought was best for his clients and his kids. Although he wasn’t ready to hop on the Foundation train and tout all his father’s methods. No one was getting stuffed in a coffin on his watch.

  Pictures like this lined the hallway of Dooley’s home. A place their father made Amber live in after he died, with the stipulation that she couldn’t redecorate. It was empty now that Amber was living with Evan higher up in Beverly Hills.

  No wonder Amber had caught on. She’d had to stare at them every day.

  And the will stated she couldn’t tell him.

  And he couldn’t tell Cora.

  He studied the Silver Spoon stalk until he came up with a plan for Jenny. A plan based on his father’s principles.

  Blue wished he could tell Amber he loved her right back.

  This picture was going to save his ass.

  “So I just sit here and nod to whatever he says?” Jenny looked like a Playmate in her crotch-peeking, short white skirt, seriously low-cut pink blouse and seriously high, silver heels. “I’ve never done TV before. The sex tape doesn’t count, does it?”

  “No.” Maddy stood next to her in Blue’s office, clutching a clipboard so she wouldn’t rap Jenny on the head with it.

  Larry, the tech she’d hired, fitted a microphone on Jenny’s blouse just over her partially exposed cleavage. She’d brought out the truly heavy artillery to try and re-capture Blue’s attention. The tech could barely keep his eyes on the camera equipment. Jenny’s equipment was that much more interesting.

  The burn of jealousy she had no right to clamped between Maddy’s shoulder blades. That wasn’t as bad as the knot in her stomach whenever she thought about how much her career depended on Blue. Had he been able to contact Amber. Was this going to be the shortest pilot ever? And why couldn’t she stop that tiny voice in her head from defending Blue? So what if he’d been his father’s victim? Who was the victim now? Maddy and her broken heart.

  With effort, Maddy kept her tone professional. “You do remember we have you scheduled until five today, and then you’ll have a dinner appointment tomorrow night?”

  “Yes.” Jenny breathed rapidly, heaving her girls up and down. “Is Blue going to match me up with someone really great?”

  “I’ll let him tell you,” Maddy said. “Just remember, you signed a contract agreeing to do whatever he asks you to.”

  “Gawd, that sounds hot.” Her boobs did another set of calisthenics. “I hope he asks me to – ”

  “It’s not that kind of television, Jenny.” This time Maddy let annoyance color her response.

  Jenny deflated. Everything except the boobs. “Okay.”

  “She’s ready,” said the tech with a last glance at Jenny’s gems.

  It was time to face Blue. They’d avoided each other all during set-up.

  Maddy opened the door. Blue stood near Gemma’s desk next to Cora. He looked like a stud in a tailored suit and expensive haircut, despite a slight green complexion and the vulnerable look in his eyes.

  He needed a hug. Maddy shoved the thought to the back of her mind and closed Blue’s office door behind her. “You look great. You’ll do fine.” If he screwed up, she and her career would win. If he pulled a rabbit out of a hat and helped Jenny, she and her career would win. No matter the outcome, it was only her heart that was losing.

  “He’s going to kick Avenger ass, aren’t you?” Cora pushed on his back, guiding him toward his office.

  “I can do this.” His words were hollow. “I can be a relationship coach.”

  Maddy exchanged a glance with Cora. Despite her rah-rah voice, his sister’s gaze was tense. A little Rules of Attraction was called for by someone who actually believed.

  Telling herself it was for the good of the show, Maddy put a hand over the green swirled tie hanging over Blue’s heart. “That’s right. You can do this. You can use that unbelievable gift of reading women, of knowing what they want, and use it for platonic good. You do it already, without calling it life coaching. You offer support and advice to friends and family. Today, after you talk to Jenny, you’ll feel good. Right here.” She rubbed his chest in small circles, before she realized what she was doing and snatched her hand away. “You feel it, don’t you?”

  A bit of the cocky spark returned to his eyes. “I feel something.” He pressed a light kiss
to her forehead.

  Maddy froze. Her heart spiraled up into her throat, making her voice sound rusty. “You shouldn’t kiss me.”

  Smiling ruefully, he entered the office.

  “Can I come, too?” Cora asked.

  Hesitating only a moment, Maddy nodded. “You’ll have to stand by the door.”

  Larry stood behind the camera she’d rented, focused on Jenny. Maddy took her place behind her camera and called, “Action.”

  Blue’s gaze locked on Maddy, before turning to his ex. “Jenny, do you remember the night we met?”

  “Yes.” She licked her glossy lips. “We were at the Sky Bar and you – ”

  “I want you to go back and think about that night. I want you to put yourself in my shoes and tell me what I was thinking when I first saw you.” There was something unusual in Blue’s voice, something Maddy couldn’t quite place.

  “You were thinking: She’s hot. She’s going to be mine.” Jenny’s smile was blinding. Way too much whitener.

  Blue’s smile lacked his usual one-hundred watt charm. It was warm, but the cockiness was absent. “Is that how you think men see you?”

  “It’s what men should think.” But Jenny’s smile dimmed.

  “You used the word mine.” Blue talked in the slow, patient tones of his father.

  Where was this coming from?

  He lowered his voice. “Jenny, do you like the idea of being owned?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you want me to…” His voice escalated, but he caught himself and started over, lower, slower, like Dooley would have sounded. “Why do you want men to say you’re mine?”

  “Because I want all the effort that goes behind this – ” She gestured to herself. “To be appreciated. I want someone to take care of me.” Jenny trembled. Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. “Why do you think I’m out every night? Why do you think I starve myself to stay this size and squeeze myself into these clothes? I have to do it because I want somebody to love me.” She collapsed in her chair, spent.