Bumped - Completed Novel

Bumped - Chapter Fifteen

Getting out of LA had been hard. Deciding to go home to Mariner's Pike, New Jersey, had been harder but I was caught in a maelstrom of police questioning and the media stalking me and had nowhere else to go. Everything about Mariner's Pike reminded me of how far I had fallen off. It was like someone just kicked the ladder from underneath me and I was caught in this never-ending free fall.

Diego had been dubbed the Madoff of Hip Hop even though his clients spanned from Hollywood directors to non-profits to music producers. Somehow I had been painted as his ride or die chick, the floozy who had set up the marks. Since I wasn't talking, the media made up what they didn't know. Some ass had sold their soul to TMZ and pictures of Diego and I in the Caribbean were on the site with the headline "Living La Vida Ladron." Arrows highlighted my necklace and ring, inferring they were ill gotten gains. I had always liked to be the center of attention, but not in a felonious type of way.

I had to stop answering my phone. The same editors I had pitched my artists to were now calling me asking for exclusives about Diego and Cameron.

Now I defined myself by what I'd lost. I used to be a publicist at a record label. I used to be a size four. I used to have a boyfriend named Diego Rivera.

I'd become an algebra equation, (x-y) - (a+b)=z. I am now who I am by subtracting what I used to be and adding a few unknown quantities of what I will become. Just like home.

Mariner's Pike, pop. 12,700, used to be the place to be back in the day. Way back. Like beginning of the 20th century way back. It was a haven for the old film stars who wanted to vacation on the Jersey Shore. It was their East Coast Monte Carlo, playground for the rich and famous. Now its dilapidated buildings dotted the shoreline like ugly blemishes. Reminders of what should have been. Half-finished projects, abandoned buildings, gutted out buildings, all symbols of various promises made by politicians and developers who vowed to restore Mariner's Pike back to its original glory.

I haven't lived in my parents' house since cell phones were the size of a briefcase. I marched out of there proud and defiant, vowing never again to live under the despotic rule of daddy. I had served my 18-year sentence and planned to make the most out of my parole. I went away to UCLA, a university all the away across the country. Now, only to return with bitter disappointment from the experience of a life unhinged.

As I sat waiting for my plane to board, Agent Walsh sat down beside me. I didn't try to hide my scowl.

"You've got to be kidding me ... You're like an embarrassing rash that just keeps popping up."

"Thanks. One way to get rid of me is to help me find your boyfriend," he said.

"Nothing's changed since yesterday. Still clueless." I opened up my magazine and stared at the pages as though there was a map to Diego drawn on it.

"You are going to contact us if you hear from Diego, correct?

I sighed and closed the magazine. "You know more about him than I do. I don't know what you want from me. Do you want to hook me up to a lie detector, water board me? What's it going to take to get you off my back?"

"I realize how you must feel but-"

"No you don't. You have no clue as to how I feel. How could you? This is just your job. I don't get to go home and not think about this until the next morning when I get to the office. It's my life. So don't feed me the tired platitudes you say to those left behind to deal with the aftermath. Just save it for someone who didn't spin bullshit into gold for a living." It came out in a forceful rush, surprising both of us.

"This is not just a job. This is what I do and right now, I want to bring Mr. Rivera in safely. The longer he's out there, the worse it gets for him." He leaned in toward me, his steely blue eyes holding my gaze.