This Life: A Novel by Maryann Reid Page A

Gabriel’s “Big Time” to announce a phone call from
Vickie Sharp, Blake’s new publicist. “Go watch for the cab,” Blake told Suki. “I’ll
keep this short, I promise.”
    “Blake, I’ve got such
good news for you!” Vickie piped in Blake’s ear as soon as she pressed the Talk
button.
    “Well, no matter how
good it is, make it quick. I’ve got a taxi coming to take me to the airport.”
    “You’re leaving New York ? But I need you
tomorrow. I just talked to some television producers looking for a host for a
new reality show, and you’re exactly what they need.”
    “That does sound
interesting, and I’ll be glad to talk to them anytime after this weekend, but I’ve
got to go now.”
    “I’ve already scheduled
a meeting for tomorrow morning!”
    “Reschedule it. You
should have checked with me first, anyway. I often have appointments with
lawyers, brokers, other business contacts. Talk to you when I get back.”
    “But that might be too
late! They want to hire someone immediately!”
    “I’ve got to go,” Blake
reminded Vickie, and clicked End Call.
    She found Brett
standing between her and the door. “You still haven’t explained why you’ve got
to go back to Miami for the weekend,” he said,
well-muscled arms folded across his bare chest.
    Antonio, relaxing on
the sofa and watching Criminal Minds on the large flat-screen TV, arched
an eyebrow. By now Blake knew him well enough to know that meant he was
listening to the conversation a few steps away from him, though his gaze stayed
fixed on the show.
    “I’ve got something
personal to take care of back home.” She rolled the carry-on in her trail, out
the open door.
    Brett followed her. “Is
something wrong with your mom?”
    “No.”
    “Then what’s happening?”
    “I seem to remember
saying it’s personal, Brett.” She turned around to face him. He didn’t seem
aware of the fact, but Antonio stood behind Brett, monitoring the situation.
    I’m relieved to see
Antonio watching over me. What does that say about my relationship with Brett? She bowed her head, torn and reluctant to think about any of this, especially
now.
    “I get it. You don’t
trust me.” Brett’s eyes narrowed. Even though Antonio couldn’t possibly see
that, he reacted to Brett’s tone of voice by moving a step closer, ready for
action.
    “We’ve only known each
other a few days, Brett. You don’t know everything about me, and I don’t know
everything about you. Give it time.” She turned around again and pulled her
carry-on toward the elevator.
    “Take me with you.”
    “Not this time, Brett.”
    “But why?”
    “What about the word ‘personal’
don’t you understand, dude?” asked Antonio.
    As Blake pressed the
elevator button for the ground floor and the doors started to slide shut,
Antonio and Brett faced each other in the hallway, looking on the verge of a
fistfight. What have I got myself into? She contemplated that question
as the elevator began its descent.

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    March 26
    Miami , Florida
     
    Lang climbed out of the
steaming Jacuzzi and stretched himself from toes to uplifted fingers, free for
the moment from aching joints. He motioned to Gabby to follow him, and she did,
making sure to bring the shot glasses and half-empty vodka bottle with her.
They dripped from the enclosed patio to the den and dropped themselves onto the
sofa, unconcerned by the work the water stains would make for the maid team.
    “Pour me another shot,”
he grumbled, leaning over the coffee table. A mirror lay ready, where he’d left
it earlier. He tapped a small quantity of cocaine out of a clear plastic baggie
onto the mirror’s surface. He used his MasterCard to cut the powder into two
smaller piles, which he shaped into two lines about the width of a drinking
straw and the length of the credit card itself.
    With one end of a
tightly rolled hundred-dollar bill inserted in his right nostril and his left
index finger pinching his left