Disguise Page 5

  She took an extra moment to rest her head on his shoulder as he patted her back. “I’m so grateful for that. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

  Rick pulled away reluctantly, and as he made his way to her front door, he said over his shoulder, “Give Max my best when you get home.”

  ***

  “Maybe I should call him,” Alexandra said to herself.

  She stared at the pile of designer luggage in the corner of her walk-in closet. Her father would be happy to see her, but did not like surprises. Her private jet was prepped and ready to fly out to Tucson the next evening. Travel arrangements were in place. She had only been putting off contacting her dad just in case plans fell through. Now that everything had been firmed up, she needed to let him know.

  She attended a full-day meeting with her team at the label. It was productive. Together, they finalized the upcoming album cover. Normally the process could stretch out for weeks, if not months. It was good to check it off the list. And there was still a lot to do. Single cover shots had to be set up. The song list was also incomplete, and there were a few more recording sessions to be done when she returned. Still, they were making progress. The music video for the title track was already in the works. A director had been hired, and the shooting dates were set.

  Alexandra also needed to figure out which direction she wanted to go when it came to her image. She was outgrowing her skater-chick-meets-Goth-revolution style, including the heavy eyeliner and canvas loafers. Even after all the mind-numbing, shoot-me-now brainstorming with a team of stylists she sat through for almost half the day, she had no idea how to reinvent herself.

  Finally home, she went go to the kitchen for some water. There was a package with her name on it sitting on the counter. She was not expecting anything, but packages arrived for her all the time. Usually Alexandra would get her personal assistant to handle things like this, but the woman quit three months ago. She had a baby and decided to stay home to be with the little one. Alexandra couldn’t blame her one bit.

  When her PA left, Alexandra couldn’t find the time to replace her right away. The world didn’t fall apart, so she tried to make do without one. One down side of not having an assistant now was whenever she got packages like this—with sender information she didn’t recognize—they would go into a box in the garage. She picked it up to carry it outside, and noticed an envelope stuck to the bottom. The note inside was from Vivienne.

  Good thing I checked.

  Vivienne’s note said, ‘Enjoy the little things you CAN control, Lexxi. And by the way, you’re welcome. Love, Viv.’

  With her curiosity now piqued, Alexandra opened the box and…

  Oh hell. Viv sent me an erotic massage care package?

  She laughed out loud and hurried to take the box up to her bedroom. Something like this had to be checked out in a more private space. She threw the box on her bed and sat beside it to open the hot pink mini-trunk inside. It opened like a large jewelry box. Inside were some things she recognized, and others that confused her. She never used this kind of stuff. There was a feather, a bottle of all-over body massage oil, a pink mask with eyeholes.

  Oh shit.

  There was a pair of handcuffs too, and a small vibrator. She caught sight of some weird alien-sex gadget too. She ended up having to look online to find out it was a waterproof, u-shape, two-person, vibrating body massager.

  Waterproof.

  What was Viv thinking?

  Alexandra sent her a text to tell her thanks, and at the end of the short message, she added rows and rows of question marks. Vivienne phoned back right away.

  “You’re welcome, honey,” Viv said before saying hi.

  “Viv! Thanks for the gift, but what the hell?”

  “Come on, Lex. You’re human. You have needs. And you have no man right now, remember? Try it. It’ll take the stress off…and it feels so good…You’ve got to try that we-massager. I came so hard with mine a few nights ago. My legs shook for a whole hour afterward.”

  “Way too much information,” Alexandra said, giggling.

  “Try it. You’ll be calling to tell me the same thing afterward. Anyhow, love. I have a string of promo interviews to prep for. Let’s chat on the weekend if you get some time.”

  “Take care, Viv. Will do.”

  Alexandra hung up and strolled into the master bathroom. It was a welcome routine to fill the tub with hot, steamy water and Japanese bath salts for a hint of jasmine scent. While waiting for the bath to run, she remembered Vivienne’s massage set and thought, what the hell. She brought it in to try out one or two of them.

  After undressing, she wrapped herself in an Egyptian cotton bath robe, and went into the attached sitting room where she often sat to think. On the one hand, she couldn’t wait to leave. On the other, the closer it got to her flight date, the more she wondered if Rick was right. Am I running away from my problems, or is something different at play? Deep down, she was secretly tired of some aspects of the business, as well as her screwed-up love life. She had been jaded and disheartened, and now, she wasn’t sure whether going home would energize her or make her more reluctant to return. She grabbed the cordless phone on the end table to call home. It rang, but no one answered. She checked the time. Dad was usually home by now. She put down the cordless phone and walked over to the filled bathtub. She would try phoning again in the morning to let him know her plans to come home.

  Peeling back the robe, she let it drop to the floor, and stepped into the tub. She lowered herself in, allowing the bubbles, hot water and jasmine aroma to transport her away from all worry. She sank deeper still to get her tense neck down in the steamy heat. All that was left above water was her face and the top of her head. She relaxed for a few minutes, and when the tingling burn of the water started to subside, she took her bath sponge and started scrubbing her legs.

  God, my feet are so sore from running around all day.

  She would give anything for Izumi, her regular masseuse, to massage her feet and back right now. Too bad she didn’t live nearby.

  She lifted one leg out of the water and placed it to hang on the edge of the bathtub. She wanted to get the edge off, and found her mind returning to the erotic massage kit. She reached over to the small counter and took the waterproof we-massager from the kit. It was time she indulged in a bit of battery-operated self-love. She turned on the massager—thank goodness she looked that up online earlier—and placed it on her neck. The thing was pure heaven, the way it kneaded out those knots that had been annoying her all week.

  Aww hell. Why not?

  When her neck felt sufficiently relaxed, she slid it down between her breasts, over her stomach, and let it stop on her mound. The sensation aroused her quickly, and soon she was panting. The sensitive flesh between her legs began to throb with need. She began to imagine it was a man’s tongue devouring her as she bucked and screamed. She nearly came apart when she moved it lower, right over her folds. It was so intense, her legs trembled and buckled as she quickly reached her first peak.

  It took her a few minutes to recover, but now she was into it. She bent the massager into more of an L shape, and positioned it so one end slowly entered her, while the other continued to massage her folds. Images of a gorgeously handsome, buff fantasy man surfaced. She pictured him taking over, teasing her hardened bud with his finger while he slid inside her.

  She bit her bottom lip and moved a hand up to her breasts. She placed two fingers over her nipples, picturing his tongue as it circled them. She could hit her peak for a second time, it felt so good. She spread her thighs wider and rocked her hips as she indulged in the erotic fantasy. Before long, her hips moved faster. Her stomach clenched. She flexed and tightened as her climax spread out from her core, making every inch of her body tingle as she came with a wild, unbridled fierceness.

  Panting heavily, she slowly eased the massager out and caught her breath. It was settled. She was taking this kit home with her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN


  ALEXANDRA was disoriented by the shrill ring of the house phone line. It woke her up from a sound sleep at the crack of dawn. She stretched across the bed and reached for the phone. In her groggy daze, she over-reached, and stumbled to the floor with a thump.

  “Hello?” she answered, groaning.

  “Alexandra?”

  “Yes. Is that you, Rosa?” She recognized the woman’s voice.

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  Rosa Charles was her father’s executive assistant, and very likely his secret significant other. It was unusual for Alexandra to get a call from her, especially at this hour. She looked at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed. It was six thirty in the morning.

  “I called Dad earlier. I mean last night, I called. Nobody answered.”

  “Alexandra,” Rosa said again.

  “Yes?” She pull herself up to sit. Alarm bells were going off. Rosa sounded on edge. “What is it, Rosa? Did Dad ask you to call me?”

  “No, he didn’t. Actually, he told me not to call. I just…well, I saw you were trying to get in contact with him last night. I had to call you to let you know what’s going on. Your father…he’s very ill, love.”

  Her heart dropped and a cold dread tickled down her spine at the grave tone the woman used to deliver the news. She was instantly aware that whatever illness Rosa was talking about, it wasn’t some minor virus or common cold.

  “What happened to him?” Her voice trembled and her hands shook so much, she was sure she would drop the phone. She steadied the receiver with two hands and leaned back against the bed frame to listen.

  “He has a very bad case of pneumonia,” Rosa explained softly. “He can’t shake it, and things aren’t looking good. You father made everyone promise not to tell you, but now he’s taken a turn for the worse and—”

  “Why didn’t he want me to know? How could any of you keep this from me?” She heard the alarm and fear blend into her angry tone as she cut Rosa off. She couldn’t believe what Rosa was telling her, but it was more important to find out what was going on. “Hold on. What do you mean he’s taken a turn for the worse?”

  “It’s hard to say. The doctors are doing everything they can. They may not be optimistic, but I thought that maybe if you came…”

  The phone went silent as Alexandra processed the dire prognosis. Rosa may have been quietly waiting for her to react. None of this made any sense. She tried telling herself it was just pneumonia. People got pneumonia all the time and came out just fine. Her heart raced. She could almost hear the thunderous beats rattling her ribcage. With a breath that was too hard to suck down, she focused back to Rosa.

  “I’m coming home,” she said. “Tell my dad I’m coming home. Tell him to hold out for me. I’ll be there before the end of the day.”

  The phone clattered as it dropped to the night table. Alexandra moved with frantic energy as Rosa’s words repeated in her head—the doctors were not optimistic. She might as well have told her he had mere hours left, because it felt like time was of the essence. She grabbed her smartphone from the edge of the bed to find Rick’s number. She had to let him know.

  “There’s been a change of plans, Rick,” she said to him when he answered.

  “Baby, you see what time it is? I got a wife, you know. What’s this about a change of plans?”

  “Rick, Dad is really sick. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’m leaving on the next plane out. I just called to tell you a month might not cut it...”

  She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her body shook as she sobbed.

  “Whoa, Alexandra,” Rick said, his tone transforming from sarcasm to sober. Her dad was his close friend too. “Maxwell’s in trouble?”

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Rosa called. He’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry hun. Can I do anything to help?”

  “You can, Rick. I don’t want the media getting wind of this. I need…my family needs privacy, and we both know they won’t respect that. Even at the hospital. They’ll find a way to get to Dad.”

  “Absolutely. Discretion is paramount,” Rick whispered. “I already had the media hounds set up to cover your Riviera vacation. That should give you some space for a while.”

  Alexandra paced nervously with the cordless phone, and stopped in front of the mirror. One hand raised into her long purple hair. She had let it grow for years. And now, it fell to the back of her knees. It was part of her signature look. Anyone who saw that hair would instantly recognize her, no matter what she tried to do to hide from the media. Looking at this conspicuous mane, she knew what she had to do, and that Rick would never agree.

  “I’m cutting my hair,” she shouted, almost surprising herself.

  “What?”

  “I’m chopping it all off.” She paused to think. “And I’m dying it.”

  “Honey you can’t do that.”

  “I have to, Rick. That way no one will follow me, and no one will pry into what’s going on. They’ll be looking for my purple hair. I’m sure they won’t recognize me without it. My father deserves some dignity if it’s serious, Rick. You know how he values his privacy. I have to try and give him that.”

  As Alexandra spoke, her voice gained conviction. She stared in the mirror. Even without heavy liner and dark eyeshadow, the purple hair defined Lexxi Rock. It was every bit as much a part of her public identity as the stage name. Ridding herself of it was the right thing to do.

  She hung up the phone in the middle of Rick’s protests, and dashed down the stairs.

  “Lilly!” she shouted. Her housekeeper had to be around. Lilly came in every morning at six.

  Alexandra skated across the slick floor of the living room and slid through the archway to the kitchen, out of breath and feeling crunched for time. She found Lilly at the kitchen table, making a breakfast tray for Alexandra as she did on most mornings.

  “Lilly, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What is it, Ms. Alexandra?” Lilly asked in surprise.

  “My hair. I need you to cut it. Short. Like boyish short. But first I need you to drive to the store and get me some black hair dye. Here’s some money. It’s really important, Lilly, and I really don’t have time to explain. I just need you to do it, and right away!”

  At her breathless pleas, the housekeeper nodded and hurriedly grabbed her car keys to leave. Less than an hour later she returned with the hair dye. Lilly quickly led Alexandra to the bathroom attached to her main floor bedroom. She dragged a chair and placed it in from of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. Next, she pulled scissors out of a drawer. Lilly was familiar with styling hair. She had once told Alexandra she cut and dyed her own hair all her adult life.

  She was grateful Lilly had no qualms about helping her, although the work was punctuated with grumbling and expressions of confusion at Alexandra’s urgency. With steady, sure hands, she brushed through the immeasurably long purple tresses, parting her hair in four, and braiding each section for manageability.

  “Are you sure, Ms. Alexandra? This is so extreme for you.”

  Alexandra stared at both of their reflections in the mirror, and nodded solemnly. She felt a pang of remorse at the drastic measure, but it couldn’t be avoided. She couldn’t take the risk. For countless events, she stood on stage and whipped around that hair. It had to go. She desperately needed to be anonymous.

  Alexandra heard Lilly’s first snip. It felt like a part of her was just cut away. She struggled not to cry.

  “Shorter,” she whispered.

  By the time Lilly was done, four long, thick, purple braids were resting on the bathroom counter, and piles of hair littered the floor like the purple plumes of some exotic animal. What was left of on her head wisped around her earlobes in a short, curly, almost pixie style that instantly transformed her. She studied herself, marveling at the difference. Her eyes slanted slightly upwards at the corners, and her waxed eyebrows still made her look feminine. It was the same for her pink lip
s and blunt nose above her slightly full chin. The face had not changed, and yet she had.

  “You can sort of pass for a boy, Ms. Alexandra!” Lilly declared.

  Alexandra looked at her with a brave, somber half-smile, and told her, “Now let’s do the color.”

  ***

  The plane touched down at Tucson International. When the flight attendant cleared passengers to disembark, Alexandra reached up above the seat and dragged down a carry-on bag. So far, traveling by passenger plane helped her avoid the attention of leaving LAX and arriving in Tucson by private jet. She had made it through LAX without being detected, and now, braced herself for this last leg of her trip.

  Just like back at LAX, she dreaded walking through the airport. With so many people, she could be recognized. She wore loose olive green jeans, an oversize black t-shirt, and a black zippered hoodie. With sunglasses and a fitted baseball cap pulled low, she followed the other passengers into the terminal building. It was working! No one shouted for autographs or tried to take pictures. In fact, no one noticed her much at all.

  She remembered to be polite, and held doors for women, kids and elderly people. She walked with an exaggerated, bow-legged slouch. It was a little over the top, but she had not had this ability to more or less blend into the background for a long time.

  I could so get used to this!

  She found the private driver outside the airport, waiting as instructed. She coughed and tried on a lower voice to fit her disguise when giving the address to her childhood home.

  The day was already approaching dusk, and the darkening sky showed a smattering of stars. The streets grew more and more familiar as she peered out into the early night. The nondescript black limousine fought through snarling traffic to the Tucson suburbs. It finally came to a stop in front of a beautifully maintained house that rose into the dusk sky. The wraparound porch sat on a base of dark grey granite, and the house was trimmed in off-white. It was a familiar house; her home.