“Shut…up…Grace,” Alice managed to gasp between guffaws. Once in the stillness of the hallway, she leaned against the wall and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “This place is a nightmare. It looked decent enough in the pictures, and it had some good Yelp reviews.”
“From when, 1979?”
Alice burst out laughing again and shook her head. “Stop it! You’re ruining my mascara,” she complained, her jaw aching from smiling. How long had it been since she’d belly laughed? Since the last time she’d been with Grace. They’d been assigned to the same dorm room at Washington State University and were both journalism majors, thus they’d struck up an instant friendship. Alice had earned an internship for EN and moved back to California. Once she convinced Mitchell to greenlight her show, she brought Grace on board as the host. Grace had left after the first season to start her own show. Even through the most difficult time in her life, Grace had stood by her side, never questioning, and never passing judgment.
“Come on, let’s go find a bar. I need a cocktail and a tetanus shot.” Grace pushed open the outer door, and the damp night air enveloped them as they stepped outside. “Ah, much better. I was beginning to get a headache.”
“Me too, except not from the smell or the obnoxious décor. I signed a contract with the American Legion to rent the room and make minor cosmetic changes, not revamp the entire place from floor to ceiling.” The expense alone would break her budget and then some. Her earlier mood darkened, and she arched her neck, working the kink out of the sore muscles.
“Hey, there’s a Starbucks. I could use a cup,” Grace said.
They raced across the street and entered the brightly lit store. The rich scent of coffee infiltrated Alice’s senses and masked the lingering stench of the legion hall. She wished it could rid her of the herculean task ahead of her. “I had low expectations, but never in my wildest dreams…I guess I could order draping and have the walls blacked out.”
“That’ll take care of the walls, I suppose. What about the carpet and the lighting, and don’t get me started on the ceiling.” Grace ordered two black coffees, and they moved to the side to allow the other patrons access to the register. “There is definitely a mold problem, and they’ll be sick kids with compromised immune systems on set.”
“My nose clogged up being in there.” Alice accepted the cup of coffee the barista put on the counter and removed the lid. “If Mitchell had stuck with Easter as we’d planned, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“He’s such a dick. I don’t understand why you put up with him. You’ve been nominated for an Emmy twice. You can pretty much write your ticket in Hollywood. Why don’t you go back to doing documentaries like you did in college?”
“Because documentaries sell to a selective audience, and while I enjoy the creative aspect, I like to have food on the table and money in my bank account.” Something her family never had. They’d lived paycheck to paycheck, and except for the dark period when Alice was in foster care, she’d often gone hungry. Once she was old enough to work, she’d taken any job she could get, and during college, she’d worked multiple jobs, filling up every spare moment she had. She was damned if she’d go back to those days of worrying about every penny.
Alice slipped onto the stool at a nearby table and unbuttoned her houndstooth coat. She curled her palms around the warm cup and sighed.
“So I’m dying to know what happened today at CG. Did it work? Is Niko on the show?” Grace added cream to her coffee, her dark eyes in her heart-shaped face expectant.
“Yes, he is. Frankly, I was sweating bullets. He drives a hard bargain. I wasn’t prepared to pay as much as he demanded. Now my show is way over budget, especially with all the money I’ll have to put into the legion hall. I’m tempted to change venues. Niko has a great space upstairs. It needs work, but not like that place.” She sipped at her coffee. It was hot and felt good on her aching throat.
“Did he offer it to you?”
“I didn’t ask. We didn’t start off well at all. He was pretty upset about the entire thing and absolutely refused to be on the show at first.” She filled Grace in on their conversation, careful to keep out her very unwelcome physical reaction to Niko. Her friend was a hopeless romantic and would run with it, despite Alice’s engagement. Grace didn’t like Richard any more than Brooke did.
Because he’s boring.
“And Chloe?”
The two words hung between them. Alice took another fortifying sip of her coffee. “She was there. Cute as can be. She has my coloring although I don’t see an immediate resemblance to Lance or me because her face is puffy from chemo. There’s no way of finding out for sure unless I ask for a blood test outright. If it was up to me alone, I’d open the records all the way but Lance has rights too and he’s the one that insisted I keep them closed.”
“Let me play the devil’s advocate. What would you hope to accomplish by coming clean about everything? You already approved of the courts request to unseal your medical history. Other than physically helping Chloe, are you prepared to be a part of her life? Because once the cat is out of the proverbial bag, there’s no going back.”
“No, I hadn’t planned on it. I have no business in her life or disrupting Hallie’s life any more than I can help.” She’d given up her rights a long time ago but she had a moral obligation to make sure Chloe had everything she needed to survive this deadly disease.
Grace ran her thumb along the sleeve of her cup, and slanted her head to the side. “Did you realize it costs anywhere between ten and fifty thousand out of pocket for a bone marrow transplant, even if the patient has insurance?”
“Let me guess; they don’t have insurance.” The coffee settled like a stone in her stomach, and she fought the rise of bile in her throat. She’d rather keep her head in the sand and believe everything would work out, only life had a way of defying her wishes.
“From what I’m able to ascertain, they have insurance. However, it’s apparent by what you said about Niko’s behavior today and the number of jobs he has, that he’s struggling. And if he’s struggling, a nice infusion of cash for oh, I don’t know, a room he happens to have available, might be a great way to gain better access to Chloe and the truth behind her birth.”
Greater access to Chloe meant even more time spent with Niko. “I’d better email Mitchell and give him a heads up. If he bitches, I’ll use the health angle. This show is supposed to help the kids, not make them sicker.”
Grace sneered at the sound of his name and leaned back in her chair. “You’re in charge of the show. Make the cheap bastard pay. He’d rip you off faster than a scab on a festering wound.”
“Geez, tell me how you really feel.” Alice pulled out her phone. There were two texts, one from Richard, and one from Niko. Alice scanned the text from Richard, and bit back a groan. She typed out a quick reply. How many more ways could she apologize for missing Christmas Eve with him and his family? Brushing aside the stab of guilt, she read Niko’s message and her heart beat a bit faster. He’s texting you only because he has to. Not because he wants to. She answered him back in a group text with Ronan.
“Looks like I’m meeting Niko at six for our first interview. Hopefully, it’ll be more civil than this afternoon. Given the time crunch, I don’t need any more drama,” Alice said.
“I recall a time when you thrived on drama,” Grace gathered her purse and stood.
Alice’s time in foster care had given her a wild streak and her tumultuous relationship with Lance had reflected that inner rebellion. Weekend road trips on his motorcycle, too much drinking, and not enough self-control, were a deadly combination. All of these things came to a screeching halt once she’d found out about the pregnancy, changing her life forever. “That was another me in another life. You’re the investigative reporter, I’ll leave the drama up to you.” Alice followed Grace’s lead and tucked her phone back into her pocket. Her days of impulsive behavior were over. True, she couldn’t control everything, but having a plan suited her better than going off the rails.
