Allison

Mystery Man

“Hey, how are you? Having fun without me?” I ask my little brother. Well, he’s not exactly little, he’s fifteen years old and almost six foot tall, but he will always be my little brother.

“Nah, same old, same old. Playing video games with Darius and football practice, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Are you not doing your homework? Please tell me you’re doing your homework. You have two tests next week and an English literature paper that’s due on Monday morning.”

“Chill, big sis. I got it, I got it. You worry too much and damn you know more about my homework than I do. What day’s my calculus test again?”

“Wednesday, it’s Wednesday. You’ve been going to your tutor right? I pay that girl, so you better take advantage of her services.”

“Ally, listen to yourself. You sound like some crazy suburbanite mom ragging on her kid about homework. And about the tutor, hell to the yes I’m going, she’s fire.”

“Good, well, keep your mind out of the gutter and your hands to yourself then.” I pause and think back on the day I spoke to his math tutor. I don’t remember her being, ‘fire.’ “Are you going to the same tutor I hired?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I just told you I never miss a lesson.” I do not like the way he said lesson like she’s teaching him more than calculus.

“I’m serious, David, stay focused. You need excellent grades to get those scholarships for college, no slacking.”

His voice softens, “I know, Ally Cat. I’m studying, I promise.”

“Thank you. So, I’m still at the Silversage Ranch where we were doing the photo shoot. It’s snowing like crazy here, and we can’t get out until the storm is over and the streets are plowed. If I lose service, that will be why. I thought you should know.”

“It’s snowing? In March?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s not unusual. But this is a lot of snow. I’m crossing my fingers that we will get home the day after tomorrow as planned, but if we don’t, will you be able to stay at Darius’s another day?”

“His mom loves me. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem.”

I sigh with relief. “Oh good, that’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

“Stop worrying, sis. I’m lit, school’s lit, that tutor is really lit…” he says dragging out the part about the tutor on purpose to yank my chain.

“Okay, stop it. Call me for anything. I love you.”

“Love you, too, later.”

“Bye.” I disconnect the call and flop back onto the bed and watch snowflakes the size of small pancakes fall from the sky. Snow in Montana is no joke. Snow in New York is no joke either, but we have had several mild winters, and I think people have forgotten how bad it can be.

It’s so quiet here. There are no horns blaring, no stomping overhead, no police sirens screeching. I’m not used to so much quiet. I sit up and look around the room for a TV to turn on for background noise. Not finding one, I get up and open the cabinet over the dresser and voilà—a TV.

With Ellen talking in the background giving a new car to an unsuspecting guest, I go through the pictures I took today. They’re all good. It’s easy taking photographs of the sexiest man alive. I don’t know how we will ever choose which ones to publish. When I’m halfway through them, I come across the pictures that I took of Cannon in the gym. He’s such a smart kid and good at basketball, too. He kicked my ass at Horse two times in a row.

Scrolling through, I smile at the funny expressions Cannon makes until I stop on a picture with Ridge in the background. I know he told me not to take pictures of him, but he’s very protective of Cannon and always near him making it almost impossible for me to get a shot of him alone. He is also incredibly handsome even if he’s a massive dickhead not to mention I don’t like being told what to do. I took pictures of him on purpose.

I grab my laptop and download my pictures so I can see them on a bigger screen. When I come to another of Ridge, I zoom into his face. He looks so damn familiar. It’s going to drive me crazy if I can’t figure out who he is.

I shoot an instant message to my best friend and co-worker, Grace. Maybe she will know.

Me: Hey Gracie, how’s work? I have a favor to ask.

Grace: Eh, it’s work, same shit different day. What do you need?

Me: I’m doing the shoot at Ash Pride’s ranch, and there’s this guy who works here, his name is Ridge. He looks so familiar, but I can’t figure out who he is. If I send his pic, will you see if you recognize him?

Grace: Sure, send it. Is he hot?

Me: Yeah, like intensely hot, but he’s a major asshole.

Grace: Booo.

I send the picture of Ridge blown up so she can see his face, and I wait. And wait. A minute goes by, and my phone rings. It’s Grace.

“So, you know that perfect apartment you looked at last month, the one you said you would sell your soul for?” she says.

“Uh, yeah, what about it?”

“It’s still for sale.”

“Yeah, so? I’m still broke.”

“But you won’t be for long if you expose your new hot-as-fucking-hell friend.”

I knew he had to be famous. “Who is he?”

“Okay,” she says winding up to tell me something big. “So, do you remember a few years ago when Livi Fox filed that sexual assault lawsuit against her bodyguard?”

“Yeah, shit, he’s the bodyguard, isn’t he? Didn’t he just disappear off the face of the earth after that whole thing?”

“Yes, he was getting death threats even though he was found not guilty. I never understood why the world is so loyal to that skank.”

“Me either, she’s not even that great of a singer.”

“I looked up the archives about that case that we have. We made life miserable for that guy, everybody did. It was like the world decided he was guilty no matter what the evidence was. Tabloids ruined his life.”

“No wonder he doesn’t want me taking his picture.”

“He told you not to?”

“Yeah, and he’s been a dick ever since he opened the door this morning. I guess now I know why.”

“Too bad, he’s got to be the sexiest man alive.” She doesn’t even realize what she’s just said.

“Grace, he is the sexiest man alive. I mean, Ashton Pride was hot, but nobody can hold a candle to Ridge. He needs to be our cover this year.”

“Well, good luck with that, chica. He’s got every reason in the world to hate all tabloid and celebrity magazine peeps. But I thought since he already hates us, you could tell boss lady where he is, and they could do an expose on where he is now and how his life has changed since the case. You could be the undercover spy while you’re there and ask him questions, get close to him, find out as much as you can because he’s never going to talk to us. Oh, get some good pictures of him, too, on the sly, of course, so he doesn’t know. Exposing him could be your big break, Allison. You and David could have that apartment, and you could put some money aside for him for college.”

“Wow, aren’t you the little devil on my shoulder convincing me to do terrible things to honest, hard-working, kind people.”

“Yeah, duh. Who’s playing the angel on the other shoulder, though? Sounds like she’s doing a good job of keeping you honest.”

“That would be me, Grace. I’m not a gossip columnist or paparazzi trying to steal people’s privacy and peace away from them. I’m just a photojournalist.”

“Yep, and that’s all you’ll ever be if you keep listening to that damn angel on your other shoulder.”

“I’ll consider it. How’s that for a compromise?”

“It’s better than no, so I guess it’ll do.”

“Thanks for looking that up for me.”

“No problem. Now get your pics and get home so we can have drinks at Indigo.”

“Will do as soon as the snow stops.”

“It’s snowing?”

“Yep, a ton, and it wasn’t supposed to snow at all. It wasn’t in the forecast.”

“You would know, you and your preparedness obsession.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, I will, boss lady’s coming anyway. Love you girl, bye.”

“Bye,” I say, but she’s already hung up.

I lean my head back on the headboard and stare at my computer screen. “Ridge Noble, bodyguard to the princess of pop. I can’t believe it,” I say out loud to myself.

Now, the question is what am I going to do with this information?