Chapter Four

Brandy

I closed my eyes as he pushed off the bed around me and rolled onto his back, collapsing. Covered in sweat and exhausted, I laid back, relishing the cold air conditioning hitting my bare skin.

"You're so fiery lately," Nathan observed in between pants. "Have you been reading those naughty romance books again?"

I laughed, throwing my arms above my head and tilting my head to look at him. "Wouldn't you like to know," I said, reaching over to give him a kiss. "Listen, I got to go. I promised Laurel I'd go shopping with her."

"On a Sunday? Isn't it your day off?"

"She may be my boss, but she's my best friend, Nate." I kicked my feet off the bed and sat upright.

He leaned over to me. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay? I'm ready for round two if you are," he said, an eyebrow raised, waiting for me to say yes.

I wiggled my finger before tapping him on the nose. "We won't be long," I promised over my shoulder, padding it to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

He sighed but didn't move. "Okay, Brandy, but when you come back, we're picking up where we left off."

I nodded before closing the bathroom door. "Whatever you say," I teased.

But I meant it. Nathan was such a good man, and we had so much fun together. I'd do anything for him, with him, I mused, my lips curling into a smile as I thought about all the things we'd done together so far.

We'd been together for almost a year now. He had his flaws, but who didn't? And it was no secret my mother did not like the man, but I did and that was all that mattered.

Sure, he wasn't the most ambitious and he was unemployed right now, but that didn't change anything for me. I really did love him and I earned a good living as Laurel's personal assistant, so if I was able to support us while he figured out what he wanted to do next, then I was okay with that. That was what love was all about. Wasn't it?

Although, I couldn't really be sure what love was all about, that was. My dad left when I was two years old and it had just been me, my mother and her sisters for as long as I could remember. My aunts all lived with my mother and I had a few cousins, but they were mostly older than me, so I didn't exactly have role models. But I trusted my gut and my gut told me I loved this man.

Showered and dressed, I tossed my shoulder-length blonde hair up in a small claw clip and swept some blush over my cheeks. A quick swipe of red lipstick over my lips and I was ready to go.

When I came out, I saw Nathan had fallen asleep, so I quietly left and locked up. He'd been working so hard lately trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life, he deserved to be left alone and sleep for a little while if that was what he wanted to do.

Outside in my driveway, I pulled my phone from my purse. I noticed I had some messages from both Laurel and my mother. I sent a quick text off to Laurel letting her know I was on my way to pick her up and decided against calling my mother back. Whatever she had to say could keep until I got back later.

The life of a personal assistant wasn't bad, but it definitely kept me busy, especially since Laurel's fame was quickly skyrocketing. Ever since she went from model to soap opera star on a telenovela filmed here in Miami, things had gotten a little, well, hectic for both of us. But it was good and I never minded the work, it kept me busy. Plus, it definitely meant I'd have stable income for the foreseeable future, so I couldn't complain.

Mere minutes from Laurel's waterfront condo, my phone rang, the shrill sound that I used only for her ringtone.

I connected the call to my Bluetooth and turned into the building's lot where I'd ask valet to hold my car until I came out with her. "I'm about to come in and get you," I said before she could say anything.

She sucked in a deep breath. "We're not going anywhere, Dee!" she said full of exasperation.

"What? It's fine. I'm not late. Yes, the boutique is opening specially for us today, but not for another thirty minutes. We'll be fine," I tried to assure her.

"No, it's not that," she cried. "Something happened. Just get up here as fast as you can."

Handing my keys over to my favorite valet, I grabbed my purse and ran around my car, a brand new pearl white MX-5 Miata. "Keep my baby safe, Jimmy!" I shouted over my shoulder the same request I always gave him when handing my keys off before getting hit with a burst of frigid air from the lobby as the doors slid open.

I waved to the front desk attendants, the concierge and then the elevator attendant as I rushed toward him. "Mack, good to see you. I'm in a rush," I said.

He nodded, holding the elevator door open for me. "Tell Miss Laurel I send my regards."

"You got it!" I winked as the doors slid shut and I was on my way to her penthouse suite, wondering what could have her in such a state on a Sunday morning. I knew her boyfriend, Leo Manuel, the famous latin singer, was touring in South America, but I couldn't help but think that perhaps if he came home once in a while, he could tend to Laurel's needs because she was wound too tight. Frankly, she needed a good lay.

The elevator doors opened and I strode in Laurel's penthouse ready to tackle whatever had her so stressed out. "Laur," I called, "I'm here."

"Oh, thank heavens," she rushed over from her bedroom and tackled me in an embrace. "I'm so glad you're here. I was so worried."

One look at her and I could tell whatever it was had her concerned, more so than ever before. Laurel was usually a calm, put-together person, but right now with her hair frazzled and her makeup not at its best, I knew this was serious. "What's going on?" I asked, searching her face.

She was biting her bottom lip, nervously. "I found this on my terrace this morning," she said, spinning on her heel to grab something from a tabletop. Her hand was gripping the sheet of paper so hard as she extended her hand to me to take it that by the time I took it, the paper felt worn. She covered her eyes and shook her head. "Isn't it horrific?"

I studied it and immediately understood why she was so worried, but tried not to show it myself, pretending it was no big deal, remaining calm. My eyes scanned the paper once more, the magazine clippings practically zooming in when I hovered over them too long. I felt l like I was in the movie Bodyguard and out of all the scenes this was the one I did not care to be part of. I looked up at her and she finally removed her hands from her eyes and searched my face for a reaction, though my expression was unchanging.

"It's a letter," I answered carefully.

"One of those creepy ones, with magazine cutout letters," she pointed out, a manicured finger tapping it lightly. "And look, there's a sketch of me on the back."

I flipped it over slowly, my eyes still on her, almost too afraid to look. I swallowed and peered down finally. "You're in the bath with some man," I observed.

"It's practically pornographic!" she cried, her voice hitting a new octave.

I nodded. "How did this get on your terrace? It's the penthouse for crying out loud."

She shook her head and sank down on her imported white leather sofa. Her body was shaking when she leaned over, her elbows on her knees as she put her head in her hands. "I don't know," she said, practically on the brink of tears. "I just don't know."

"Well, it's not like someone could just scale the building. It's a high rise. Was someone over last night?" I asked, wondering if she had company and maybe didn't remember. It could've just been a prank, I began to think. I mean, it had to be a prank, right?

She removed her hands from her face and looked up at me seriously. "No. This is serious, Brandy," she said using my full name, something she rarely ever did, as if to convey the full seriousness of the situation. I was always Dee when I was with Laurel.

I put the paper down and walked over to her terrace and studied it before stepping out on it. I couldn't understand how this could happen. I looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. It was as if it was dropped here out of thin air. I walked back in and sat down next to her, wrapping my arms around her.

"I'm scared, Dee," she confessed. Laurel never looked so vulnerable, so I knew she meant it. "I don't know what to do." Her body shook uncontrollably.

I patted her back before releasing my hold on her. "I know, sweetie. I just don't know what to do." I looked around as though the answer was magically going to appear. It did not.

Ugh, I groaned in my head, then looked up at the ceiling. This felt way above my pay grade. Then, as though a lightbulb went off, I widened my eyes and asked, "Have you called the building's security?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to involve them. It'll be all over the news. That's why I won't call the police, either. Not that I'm sure there's even a crime here."

I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. It wasn't like it was a break-in, but I had to be sure. "No one was here last night or this morning? Did you hear anything? See anything? Is anything else suspicious around here?"

To each question she shook her head no. "I called Jorge, but he's at church, so I had to leave a message," she said walking into her kitchen. Jorge was Laurel's agent, he'd been with her from the very beginning. He was also a devout Catholic who treated Sunday with the respect it deserved. Even if it was an award show day and he was traveling, he'd find the closest church and go to mass. If anyone would know what to do, it'd be Jorge.

I came up beside Laurel and took the pitcher of tea from her, setting it down on the counter. "Let's just relax. Jorge will call you back soon." At least, I hoped he would. "In the meantime, let's get you dressed and fix your hair." I knew she could use the distraction, so I went into full assistant mode and took charge of the situation, ushering her into the bathroom.

She nodded, but then looked at me, her eyes wide. "Everything's going to be okay, right, Dee?"

I nodded, smiling. "Absolutely! Everything's going to be just fine."