Positively Pippa by Sarah Hegger (11)

Chapter Eleven

Pippa checked her messages before she went downstairs to make dinner. One of her calls had been returned. She dialed voice mail, her finger difficult to control as it shook over the little buttons.

“Ms. St. Amor.” A young, female voice, chirped into her ear. “This is Brittany at Mr. Carlson’s office. I’m afraid Mr. Carlson is out of town for the rest of the month. On vacation. And he’s out of cell reach. He won’t be able to get back to you until he returns.”

Pippa jabbed the Off icon. “Bullshit.”

Bryan Carlson never took a crap without his cell phone. Miserable bastard. She’d helped him get his first AD job on her show, thrown her weight around for him. She tossed her phone onto her bed. Too restless to settle, she paced the room.

“I didn’t say it,” she said to the room. “God, you so busy condemning me for something I didn’t do.”

Doors, all of them, slammed in her face and locked tight. Not one call back. Not a damn one. Allie hiding out, her editor scared for her job, and the cameramen pretending like her text never even existed. When they turned their backs on you, they went deaf and blind as well. And why was she surprised exactly? It’s how it worked. She knew that. When you’re out, you’re out. Twelve years of her life gone, just like that. She almost wished she had said those things. Had done what Ray had rigged.

No, she didn’t, because Allie had been sweet and lost and looked to her to help her find her inner Cleopatra. Allie knew what happened, she’d been there and heard the exact words Pippa said. Maybe she could insist Allie speak out.

No, she couldn’t do that. Allie flinched at her own shadow. She had no place in a shitstorm like this one.

Social media. God, it made her life so much harder. All that instant access to millions of unsolicited opinions. All those millions of voices commenting on something she was innocent of. God, her head was going to explode with this crap.

She tapped the Twitter app. So many damn notifications. Some self-flagellation demon had her tapping the top one open.

“You know what?” she said to the phone. “If you want to talk about something, why don’t you talk about the truth? Wouldn’t that make a nice change?”

“Shit!” Pippa stared at her phone. That had been incredibly stupid, but the desire to—just this once—yell back had her finger hitting tweet before her brain could haul it back. Ah, well! It was done now. The only good thing about social media is it moved so fast, her tweet would probably get lost in the shitstorm within seconds.

Pippa checked her e-mails. She tried to squash the little surge of hope when she saw she had messages. National Enquirer was not giving up. Too bad she wasn’t going to play. She hit delete and tossed her phone back on the bed.

Where was Matt to take her mind off this shit when she needed him? Working and getting on with his life, and best she do the same. He hadn’t called in two days either, because they were keeping it—whatever it was—strictly easy.

Bing went her phone. Okay then, maybe not so lost. But did she really want to read the response?

See, that was nice. Maybe everybody didn’t hate her after all.

That last hashtag had a nice militant ring to it. She’d spent all this time trying to find help behind the scenes, when it was the fans who really counted. The fans who would see you through.

“Pippa.” June’s voice, strident and demanding. “You better get your ass down here.”

Would it kill June to say please? She stomped over to her door, then stomped back and snatched up her phone. Following the sound of voices, she entered the salon.

June’s craggy face was creased into a frown.

Phi sat on the floor in front of the treasure armoire, and rocked. Back and forth, back and forth, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed.

“What the hell happened?” Pippa threw June a glance as she ran to Phi.

Her grandmother was tiny, sunken in her arms. Phi was so much larger than life it was difficult to think of her as vulnerable.

“I dunno.” June twisted her fingers together. “I came in here to clean and found her like that.”

Pippa tightened her arms around Phi’s shoulders. “What is it, Phi?”

“It’s gone.” Her face a mess of smeared makeup and tears, Phi held a velvet box in her clenched fingers. “They took my fob watch.”

Pippa pried Phi’s fingers open and took the box from her. It was empty. The circular indentation in the velvet stared up at her accusingly. The fob watch, another favorite treasure, given to her by Prince Rainier of Monaco with the royal coat of arms etched beside the message on the back. Gone.

A surge of lava-hot rage roared through Pippa. How dare they touch Phi’s treasures? Take them from her as if they didn’t mean a lifetime of achievement and accolades. A life spent bringing the gift of her voice to people all over the world.

“I didn’t touch it.” June stuck her chin out.

Pippa didn’t give a shit about placating June. Someone had put their hands on Phi’s stuff and it ended. Now. Today.

“She had it the other day.” June took a cautious step closer. “I picked it up in her room and put it back.”

“Is that true?” Pippa gentled her tone with Phi.

Her grandmother sobbed in earnest. Her false eyelashes drooped over her eyes, mascara gummed in the skin folds. “I don’t know.”

“I saw it.” June’s voice grew more confident. “Right beside her bed. I put it away. Straight away.”

“Why?” Phi’s shoulders shook so hard, it was difficult to contain it.

“I don’t know, darling.” Pippa stroked the knots of her spine. “But I’m going to find it, Phi, I promise you that.”

* * *

It took hours to settle Phi into bed with her restorative scotch. She kept looking at Pippa with big, green eyes and asking “why?” Pippa would give her right arm to have an answer for her. It didn’t make any sense and it was so wrong it made her teeth ache.

Phi was loud, flamboyant, and a real handful, but she was also one of the kindest people on the planet. She rescued horses, dogs, chickens, and people. All gathered under her protective wing and treated to her special brand of wonderful. When Pippa last checked, the Diva had her feathered purple eye mask on and snored softly. Phi would sleep till morning. The restorative scotch was a generous triple.

Another trip to Nate was in the cards. This had to stop. But before then, she wanted to make sure of a few things.

It felt disloyal to make the call.

“Agrippina.” Matt’s voice hummed down the line, and shivered across her nerve endings.

“I need to ask you something.”

Matt’s voice changed timbre as he sensed her mood. “What is it?”

“It’s Phi.” Dammit, she was going to cry. It made her so angry to see her grandmother hurt like this. “More of her treasures have disappeared.”

“My guys?” Matt was alert and tense.

“Can you vouch for them?” Pippa got it in quickly before he went down the wrong track.

He growled down the line. “Pippa, I wouldn’t send anyone over there who I didn’t trust. I’ll check with the guys anyway, but as far as I know, they only went into your room.” He sighed. “What the hell is going on in that house?”

“Someone is taking her stuff. Matt?” This was so wrong. Phi was as sharp as a tack, but she had to ask. “Do you think she could have misplaced them?”

“Phi.” He paused. “Maybe.”

“I’m worried, Matt.” The idea of losing Phi to senility throbbed raw and painful in her chest. “I need to search this house, top to bottom. Just to make sure she hasn’t misplaced them. You know—”

“I’ll be right over.”

The phone went dead in her ear. Pippa changed her shirt to a nicer one, drew the line at changing into a sexier pair of jeans, but lost the battle not to freshen her makeup. Or put perfume on. Matt liked to bury his face in her neck and draw in deep breaths. Shit, she was twisted. Her grandmother was in crisis and she was thinking sex.

It didn’t take him long. He rapped gently on the kitchen door.

“She’s sleeping.” Pippa let him into the house. He stayed on her heels, big and radiating warmth and comfort. “I don’t want her to know I’m doing this.”

Matt stopped her and stroked his finger down her cheek. “I know. We’ll do it quietly, and go and see Nate in the morning if we find nothing.”

“We?”

“We.” He gave a firm nod. “But, I don’t think we’re going to find anything here.”

“Really?” Pippa didn’t want to face the possibility of Phi getting forgetful, or losing her incredible mind. “Because she’s seventy-eight and—”

“Sixty-eight.” He smiled down at her. “The age on her bio and I’m sticking with it.”

He was such a good man. The sort of guy a girl could lean on. Her heart gave a little thump of “if only.” Enough of that! Pippa didn’t lean, and especially not on a man. “Where should we look first?”

They started with the kitchen. June kept things neat and orderly, and it didn’t take too long. They moved into the salon. Pippa checked the treasure trove one more time. Opening each of the treasures, just to be sure they weren’t put away in the wrong place.

Matt worked alongside her. He’d built the house and knew all sorts of strange little hidey-holes Pippa didn’t even know existed. Phi had built her drama into every inch of the Folly.

By the time they reached the third-floor attic, Pippa was grubby and exhausted. They couldn’t do Phi’s room with her in the house. She would have to find another time to get it searched.

“You could ask June to distract her,” Matt whispered as they tiptoed past Phi’s room. They needn’t have bothered. An act of God couldn’t wake the Diva. But they did it anyway.

“I don’t think I can. June has been with her for years, but someone is taking things from this house and I don’t know who it is.” Pippa couldn’t believe it could be June. Pleasant, the woman wasn’t, or even amicable, but she’d been with Phi for so long it made it almost unthinkable. Yet, stuff was disappearing and with no obvious suspects, she had to consider everyone.

He nodded. “I’ll start in the attic.” Blowing out a harsh breath, he opened the door to the attic stairs. “Why don’t you get us something to drink? It’s going to take some time.”

Pippa got them both a bottle of water and rejoined Matt in the attic.

Matt had called this one right. Phi threw nothing away. It all ended up in the attic, waiting for some needy soul. Phi had enough stuff up here to furnish a small house. Everything from furniture to pots and pans, stacked in pile after pile and covered with sailcloth. The dust clogged up her nose as they moved things around, and she sneezed.

“Bless you.” Matt looked up from going through the drawers of an old chest. Dust and sweat streaked his face. Damn, he totally rocked the workingman look. Pippa grinned at her own thoughts.

“What?”

“You’re a nice guy, Matt Evans.”

He pulled a face. “Two words a guy never wants to hear applied to him. Nice. Guy. You might as well go ahead and friend-zone me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Looking at Matt, Pippa took a sip of water, her mouth dry from dust.

He quirked a brow at her. “Oh, really?”

What a terrible flirt! And thinking of flirts . . . “Tell me about Eric.”

“What do you want to know?” Matt lost some of his perk.

“Why doesn’t he come home more often?”

“My mother.” Matt bent to search beneath an old swan-shaped child’s bed. It had been hers back in the day. “At least, that’s my best guess.”

“Your mother?” Cressy Evans had followed her sons around like a shadow. Always there, always standing guard. More than one teenage girlfriend had run the gauntlet of Cressy and come out bloodied at the other end.

Matt shrugged. “She’s needy.”

Cressy was cling wrap. Pippa kept that to herself. Men and their mothers, a place you did not go.

“She used to drive Eric crazy. He took the first road out of here after college and built a life for himself in Denver. He does very well.” Matt pulled a face. “He does extremely well. When he first started, he lived in a house with five other guys, so he could afford to send money home to get Isaac and Jo through college.”

“Isaac went to college?” Forget good guy. Matt Evans needed canonizing. He’d raised his siblings after his dad’s death. Cressy went to pieces and Matt stepped in. And apparently, Eric, too.

“For all the good it did.” Matt gave a vicious twist to a cover and sent a cloud of dust into the air. Pippa hid her nose in her arm.

“Sorry, Isaac gets to me.” Matt’s hair was dull beneath a thin layer of dust. “He’s the smartest of all of us and yet he can’t seem to get it together enough to make something of his life. I haven’t a goddamn clue what to do with him.”

“And you have to do something?” Pippa gauged his reaction carefully. So far, Matt had been pretty open, but she was about to step right into his space. The sort of place only a real girlfriend went. She did it with her women on the show, but they had to take it—more or less.

Matt narrowed his eyes at her, his broad shoulders tight with tension. “Of course I do.”

“Isaac is a year or so younger than me, right?” A terse nod from Matt. “So, maybe it’s up to him to find that thing and do it.”

He stilled, and Pippa tensed, waiting for him to tell her to butt the hell out.

“You sound like Eric.” He huffed out a laugh. “Except Eric keeps telling me I have to get out of here and let them all sink or swim.”

Eric might be on to something. “Why don’t you?”

“Jesus.” He shook his head. “Try and picture that. My mother didn’t get out of bed for three weeks after my dad died. Didn’t even make the funeral. It took me another six months to get her out of the house.”

Leaving her son to organize a funeral and take care of the other children. At least Emily hadn’t done that after the sperm donor disappeared. Nope, Emily had launched into a frenetic “new beginning.” Pippa was starting to get why Phi had such a resentment for Cressy.

“Isaac.” He smacked his palms on his jeans, leaving dusty sprints behind. “Well, Isaac is stuck. And Jo.” He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. Dust motes hit the air behind him. He looked sad, and confused.

“She’s getting married, isn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“You don’t like him.”

He barked out a dry laugh. “He’s a musician.” Matt twisted his mouth around the word. “Who doesn’t play an instrument, have a band, or even write songs. Now he’s in Montreal, at the Jazz Festival to network and further his career.”

“Okay.” Pippa was getting a not-so-good picture here.

“And Jo paid his way there.” And there it was. “Fuck.” The word exploded on a soft breath. “I hate talking about this shit.” He strode to the small dormer window and stared into the night. “I could even accept the guy was a total loser if Jo was happy.”

Pippa closed the distance between them. She wanted to wrap her arms around those big, strong shoulders and ease some of the burden. He’d carried it a long, long time. It wasn’t her thing though. They weren’t a couple, or even a hookup. “How do you know she’s not happy?”

“Hey!” He spun to look at her. “You could help me out with something.”

“Okay.” Not if it involved Cressy she couldn’t. Cressy never missed a chance to give her the death stare.

“I went wedding dress shopping with Jo the other day, and she chose this dress . . . the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen. Couldn’t you like . . .”—he made a vague waving motion with his hand—“do your thing and get her a nice dress? One that makes her look as beautiful as she is.”

It didn’t sound like a dress was going to do for Jo what she needed, but this was in Pippa’s wheelhouse. “I could do that.”

A beautiful smile lit his face. “I know it’s only a dress, but maybe if she felt beautiful . . .” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s her wedding day. A girl should feel like a princess, right?”

“Right.” Such a good guy, with such a great, big heart in that gorgeous body. Men like Matt could almost make her believe in the happily-ever-after thing. She took his face between her hands and forced him to bend his neck a bit. “You are the nicest guy, Matt Evans.”

He curled up his lip in disgust.

Pippa laughed and pressed her mouth against his. “And you’re dead sexy, too.”

His arms came around her and tugged her closer. He hummed his appreciation against her mouth and sucked her bottom lip between his.

“And you kiss like a bad boy.”

“This is getting better and better.” He pressed his hips against her. His cock hardened against her belly as she pushed closer. He so had her number with this stuff.

“But you talk too much.”

That seemed all the invitation Matt needed to take over the kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, firm and demanding. And wonderful.

Pippa mated her tongue with his, savoring the taste and feel of him. She wanted him. Lust, pure and unadulterated, curled up from her belly and spread to her breasts and between her thighs. His hardness against her was a visceral reminder of their sexes, and Pippa relished every delicious difference. The way her breasts flattened against his chest. The cradle between her thighs where he fit so perfectly. His big hands almost spanning the width of her back.

He groaned and shifted his weight. His hand trailed beneath her shirt and found the skin of her back. Firm, slightly rough from working with them, his hands created thrilling abrasions over her skin. He slid his hand up to rest on the side of her breast.

Pippa twisted in silent demand. Heat shot through her as he cupped her breast. She filled his hand, pressing into it.

His touch sure and steady through the fabric of her bra. He brushed her nipple with his thumb.

God, it felt so good. Her knees buckled and she grabbed his shoulders for support. Her breast swelled as he played, eager for his touch, so sensitive she wanted to throw back her head and moan.

He pulled her bra cups down and bare palm touched naked breast. Hot and firm. His other hand slid into the back of her jeans to cup her ass. “I love you city girls with your tiny panties.”

Her tiny panties were drenched, and Pippa rubbed against his erection. Shit, he was even harder than before. They had to break the kiss to come up for air. Harsh pants filled the tiny space between their mouths.

“We can’t do this here.” The words came out with claws on them when every firing neuron she possessed was all for pushing him to the ground and riding him until the ache between her thighs went away.

“You’re right.” He took her mouth in another blistering kiss, plumping and squeezing her breast. “But you feel so fucking good.” His fingers slid into the crack of her ass. He dipped his knees to get the leverage needed to slide them into her heat. “Shit, you’re so wet.”

He tugged his hand free, and Pippa whimpered her objection.

Then his mouth was on her breast, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth, and his hands were on her jeans. The buttons popped and he slid his hand over her mound. His fingers dived under the tiny scrap of fabric and found her again.

She was just about there, when he slid between her wet folds, pushing a finger deep inside her, his mouth working her nipples.

“Oh God.” It ripped from her in a whimper as he played her clitoris, working another finger deeper inside her.

“Let me make you come.”

“Yes.” She gripped his hair as his fingers moved over her. Sliding through her wet heat easily, pushing her closer to the edge. Her knees gave as she came and he caught her against him.

Holy hell. Pippa melted against him in a happy heap as her legs had checked out. Best orgasm ever, and she still had all her clothes on.

Gently, he covered her nipples with her bra and lowered her shirt. He eased his hand away from her slowly.

Pippa cupped his cock through his jeans. He pulsed hard and thick in her hand.

Matt placed her hand over his, pressing her to him before taking it away.

She didn’t know if she could do the same for him, but she was damn sure going to give it a try. “But—”

“We can’t do this here,” he said. “But soon, baby, soon we’re going to do this and do it right.”

And it would be so good. Her sated body hummed low-level at the idea of their bodies moving together. “Soon.”