First Edit: 07/08/2017
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"What a surprise!" I plaster on a smile when I open the door. He hands me a bouquet of mixed flowers and I take them.
"I flew down yesterday for some business meetings, couldn't miss the opportunity to stop by and see how you're doing," he says and steps into my apartment. He kisses me on the cheek and looks around the room, "You've done well for yourself!"
I smile as I take out a vase to put the flowers in, "Thank you for the bouquet," he knows very well I didn't do anything to deserve this apartment, "Something to drink?" I ask.
"Whiskey." He takes a seat in the living room and waits for me. I bring his glass over as well as my own glass of wine.
I'm going to need this. Men like him don't just 'stop by.'
"Mind if I smoke?" he asks, already taking out his case with cigars.
I don't like smoking at all, it seeps into everything in the house and you struggle to get out the stench for weeks. But it was Mr. Leigh, I'll probably allow him to do drugs in my apartment without saying a word.
One does not defy Mr. Leigh.
"So how is the new job?" he coughs after the first pull and readjusts himself.
I lean back, "Not what I'm used to, but fun nonetheless. I'm meeting someone called Robin Thicke tomorrow, wants to do a book on telling the truth about some other celebrity grinding on him at an award show or something," I explain.
I know I'm not suppose to say anything about my clients, but come on, it's Mr. Leigh. The man owns half of the entertainment industry, including its celebrities. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he's part of the illuminati.
"Oh I remember that being all over the tabloids," he notes, taking another puff of his cigar.
"I'm more excited to meet Freddie Prinze Jr. next week though, he is one of the few famous people I actually know. All these others are just a blur, I don't know anyone or what they're even famous for," I say.
He takes a sip of his whiskey, "You've been hanging out with the Bieber kid. He's famous."
Gulp.
I scratch the back of my neck and laugh nervously, "Oh, Justin. Yes."
What the hell? What kind of answer was that Leah?
He nods, "Do you like him?"
I don't know what comes over me, but it seems I'm having a coughing fit. I can't stop clearing my throat and cough again.
"Come on girlie, I know that cough. You like him, don't you?" he looks at me with those baby blue eyes. The crow's feet and smile lines are evident on his face as he questions me with a raised brow.
Of course he knows that cough. I did the same thing when...
Never mind.
I shrug and try to force the smile away, but it creeps over my face when I think of Justin. I sigh, "I do," I admit, "I'm going out on a date with him tomorrow night."
"Hmm," he murmurs when he takes another sip from his whiskey.
Damnit. This man knows exactly how to make me sweat and I'm stepping right into his trap.
I fidget with my fingers over the glass of wine and shake my leg, "Is that okay? I mean," I gulp, "I wouldn't want you to think that I -"
He laughs and cuts me off, "Of course it's okay. You have to move on, even if it's just temporary. I get it."
Does he? Because this isn't temporary...
I watch Mr. Leigh as he smokes his cigar. Surely he didn't come by just to talk about Justin with me. A man of his calibre doesn't have the time to waste on empty talk.
His fingers are in a lot of pies. He is a successful businessman - plays behind the scenes, as he likes to call it. From what I know, he is a major shareholder in 80% of entertainment companies in the USA. It ranges from production, news anchors, daytime television, music and media outlets. He's like a celebrity amongst celebrities. Everyone knows of him, everyone knows not to cross paths with him. Everyone knows his word is law.
The important thing for me is that Mr. Leigh is also the retired Deputy Chief of Mission for the US Embassy.
I never really ask too many questions. I listen to what he tells me, which is already a big leap of faith he takes in me, since I could sabotage him with the information I know. Not that I would.
Why, you ask? That's because he was kind enough to step in and help me get back on my feet after he rescued me from South Africa. I know why he helps me, but I don't want to open that can of worms. Ever. I don't want to talk to him about it. AI don't even know how much he knows.
"Mr. Leigh, you didn't come here to ask about my job and who I'm dating," I say with s stern voice.
He looks up and smiles, "I didn't. You're right."
His hair is starting to turn grey from a dark brown. Frown lines and sunspots are all visible on his face, probably brought on by his excessive lifestyle and hard work, but he takes good care of his appearance. He is always dressed in a suit and I think that he could go through as the James Bond lookalike of the mid 90's.
"I came here to inform you of the new activity that's been going on," he confesses with that thick Italian accent. He sounds like a mafia boss, I swear.
So much for James Bond.
"Oh?" I look at him with a frown. My back straightens and I sit on the edge of my seat.
"We have some new information about your parents," he sighs, "and my dear Blakey boy."
My heart stops and I freeze, I haven't heard anything about my parents' whereabouts for the last two years. I was one of the lucky ones that got found by the US embassy before we were driven off to god knows where and be killed or tortured. I flinch at the thought.
He continues, "We caught some movement in the Northern Cape, near the border of Namibia, my men have been monitoring it on the satellites for the last couple of days."
I jump with realisation, "They're trying to get across."
He nods, "That's what we think."
"How many are there?" I ask.
"Hundreds, the pictures on satellite crawls with movement," he answers.
Hundreds?! I didn't realize there were that many!
"We have to help them! Please, you have to do something!"
Mr. Leigh looks down, "I want to help my boy just as much as you want to see your parents again," he downs his whiskey and places it on the coffee table, "but we can't take the risk. You know helicopter movement in that area will be a dead giveaway, we have to wait until they can figure out where their camps are."
"And where the danger is," I say with a heavy heart. I shouldn't get so excited, I know the risks, I know the impossibility of the task. I was saved by a miracle alone. Not everyone has miracles laying around.
One wrong move and they could be killed.
"Do you think it could be them?" I bite my nails.
Mr. Leigh sits forward, ready to stand up, "Very likely," he smiles at me.
A small bit of hope makes its way to my heart, something I haven't allowed myself to feel for a very long time.
I can't help but smile back at him.
Mr. Leigh stands up and taps me on the shoulder, "You hold on kid, we're gonna get them back. All of them."
I nod with tears in my eyes.
"Listen, I gotta go, Lenny and the others are waiting outside for me," he says, referring to his bodyguards, "but I'll keep you updated kid."
"Please do," I give him a hug as he chuckles, giving me a pat on the back. Mr. Leigh is not a touchy-feely type of person, but he allows me to give him hugs. He sure needs it just as much as I do, his son is out there too.
"Tell me how your date went with the Bieber kid," he says, but turns around and frowns, "Actually don't do that. I don't wanna hear how he sucked out your mouth. Take care!" he yells and disappears into the elevator with the men that stood outside the apartment.
Why do they always wear black leather?
After I shut the door, I lean back against it and close my eyes. A smile creeps over my face when I think of the possibility of seeing my parents again. It's a small chance - but a chance nonetheless. That's something! I have something to hold onto!
I sure hope Blake is alive too, for Mr. Leigh's part at least. I wouldn't know what to say to Blake if I see him again. That's a whole other story.
His words echo in my mind, your date with the Bieber kid, and I can't help but chuckle.
"I don't see what's so fücking funny, you liar!" Will's voice makes it appearance and I open my eyes in an instant. He stands in the kitchen, hands on the hips, looking really pissed.
Oh.
I bite my tongue and look down. He heard, otherwise he wouldn't be so angry. "How much did you hear?" I ask in a low murmur.
"Enough to know your parents aren't dead you dumb bïtçh!" he hisses at me.
Dumb bïtçh? That's a bit excessive.
I look at him and shrug, "They could be for all I know." .
"What do you mean?" he asks, but quickly lifts his finger in the air to silence me, "You know what? No, just no. You lied to me Leah. That's some messed up shit right there!" he walks off to his room.
"Wait Will! I can explain!" I cry after him.
"Don't even bother!" he yells and whacks his door shut. I think he nearly broke it just now, because the thunk is still echoing down the hallway.
I inhale and push myself to walk forward. It's such a frustration that no one knows what has been happening in South Africa! The media made sure the country gets suffocated, any news reporter that wants to give feedback or bring attention to what's happening, gets stopped or killed before it can happen.
No one would believe me if I told them my story. Except for Mr. Leigh.
I sigh, looking at the time. It was ten at night. I look around and grab the keys of the apartment, my wallet and my phone.
I need to get out of the house, but where will I go?
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-euodiadem