Oracle
“I’ll have a red velvet … no, wait, a lemon drop … no wait—a mint chocolate cupcake.” The woman in front of me giggled slightly as she threw her hands up in the air. “You know what, I’ll take all three of them, sorry.” She turned around slightly and gave me a sweet smile. “Sorry about that, I’m having a horrible time deciding what I want today.” There was an earnest expression in her brown eyes.
I shrugged as she played around with her hair. “No worries,” I said, my voice deeper than usual. I felt like a bit of an idiot in my LA Dodgers baseball cap and huge dark aviators. I also had a fake mustache on my face, and I was wearing an old red and white plaid shirt. I knew looked like some sort of hillbilly just come to town from North Dakota, but I didn’t care. It was better than being recognized and accosted by every wannabe actor in town.
And seeing as I lived in Los Angeles, that meant I was avoiding a tremendous amount of people.
“Let me buy your cupcakes.” The lady turned back to me again with an impish smile. “I was reading an article yesterday about this Starbucks in Seattle that has had the pay-it-forward coffee movement going for two weeks straight.” She kept babbling on while I just stared at her without a word. I had no idea what she was talking about. “So, what do you want?”
“What do I want?” I repeated her words and looked her over. She was pretty, in that fresh-from-the-farm sort of way. She had no makeup on, but her face was fresh and clean, with naturally glowing pink cheeks. Her lips looked like they had a touch of lip gloss and her unruly black hair cascaded down her back. She stood in front of me in a pair of tight blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt that clung delightfully to her curves. If I’d been a different guy, I might have tried to chat her up, but I wasn’t.
“Yeah, what sort of cupcake do you want? Or do you want multiple cupcakes? It’s so hard to choose, isn’t it?”
“I’m getting a dozen, so I think I’ll pay for myself, but thanks.” I nodded to let her know that the conversation was over, but she didn’t seem to get the hint.
“Wow, a dozen. Lucky ducky! Are you having a party?” She looked at me again and I could see her taking in my full appearance. I wondered what she thought as she stared at me. There was no way she knew she was standing in front of Oracle Lion. No way she knew she was chatting with Hollywood royalty.
“No party. I’m going to eat them all myself,” I lied, and she just looked at me with wide eyes, processing what I’d said. “I live on cupcakes, you see, I don’t eat anything else.”
“You what?” Her jaw dropped, and I started laughing at her expression.
“You shouldn’t be so gullible, lady.” I started to take my sunglasses off so that we could make actual eye contact, but then I remembered I had on a disguise. “Of course, I don’t just eat cupcakes.”
“Funny.” She grinned, not seeming to be annoyed that I’d called her gullible. I liked that she didn’t take herself too seriously. It was refreshing to meet a woman who didn’t overreact to every comment I made. “Are you a comedian?”
“Yeah, I’m Chris Rock. I just changed skin colors in the bathroom, you know how it goes.”
“Changed skin colors?” She just shook her head as she smiled. “Really?”
“Well, he’s black and I’m white, so you would have thought something was off if I hadn’t mentioned it.”
“Yeah, but I think the biggest thing that’s off is that he’s funny and you’re not.” She laughed. “Oh, LA,” she said to herself and I didn’t have to ask her what she meant. Los Angeles was full of weirdos, otherwise known as unique personalities, and she most probably had me lumped into that group.
“I’m not a racist, by the way. I know you may think that because of my bad joke.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a racist. I don’t think you’re funny either, but still not a racist.”
“What’s your name?” I asked her curiously. She had a nice smile and, well, the longer I stared at her body, the more I realized that she was a sexy bombshell as well.
“Piper. You?”
“Uh, Jimbo,” I said the first name that came to mind. “Jimbo Clampett.” I held my hand out. “Nice to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“Jimbo Clampett?” She didn’t sound convinced, but she didn’t question me. “So, are you sure I can’t buy you a cupcake, Jimbo?”
“Jethro,” I said what I was thinking out loud and I saw her small smile turn to a frown for a second.
“Sorry, what?” It was her turn to be confused.
“Jimbo Jethro.” I nearly drawled the name but knew that would be too much. I was playing a role now, and while I didn’t know this woman from Adam, I was drawn to our weird conversation. “I’m Jimbo Jethro, and I’m from North Dakota.”
“Really, now?” Her mouth curled up at the side, and I watched as she shook her head slightly. “Jimbo Jethro Clampett from North Dakota, huh?” She grinned. “Do you live in Beverly Hills as well?”
“Why, no, ma’am,” I said.
It was then that I noticed that the shop assistant was staring at us both, a bemused expression on her face. I could see her looking at my attire for a few seconds and then her expression changed. Her face grew still and I could tell that she was trying to imagine me without the glasses and cap. She was a local and probably dealt with a lot of stars in odd costumes coming in to buy their world-renowned cupcakes. Well, the stars with no personal assistants. Maybe I really did need to invest in one.
“You’re funny, you know that?” Piper grinned at me and then laughed, a long, slow, delicious laugh that made me want to laugh as well. Piper’s enthusiasm for life was contagious, and a part of me wondered how she would act if she knew who I was. “You’re not Chris Rock, but you’re funny.”
“Thanks,” I said and then because I couldn’t stop myself, “and you’re pretty funny yourself. Cute, too.”
“Well, I do my best.”
She started playing with her hair again and I wanted to reach over and pull on one of her corkscrew curls. She was more than cute. She was beautiful in that completely unaware way. And her body was dynamite. I could only imagine the sorts of fun that we could have if I took her back to my place. I could imagine, but of course, I wouldn’t do it. No matter how much I wanted to. And then she started nibbling on her lower lip and playing with her hair at the same time as she noticed the tub of banana pudding. I could see her debating in her head whether or not she should get some.
“Got a craving, huh?” I whispered into her ear as I took a step toward her. My whisper must have startled her because she jumped back into me as my breath tickled her ear. I can’t lie, I was hoping for that response.
“Oh, well, you know.” She looked nervous now and I could see her eyes darting to my lips. Lips that were now quite close to hers. “I love banana pudding, but I’m already getting cupcakes, and Alexa will be a little upset if I bring too many sweets back. She tries to avoid sugar, you see.”
“I see,” I said, not caring about Alexa or her dislike of sugar. “You should get what you want. Life is too short to not be happy. Shoot, if you want banana pudding and cupcakes and ice cream and whipped cream, you should get it. Especially the whipped cream.” I stared at her to see if she made the connection in my reference to whipped cream, but it seemed to go over her head. Poor girl was probably too innocent for a man like me.
“Yes, true.”
“I like to go after what I want,” I said, and I watched as she licked her lips. “Are you the same?”
“I, uh, I …” She tripped over her words, and I was about to go in for the kill, when I saw my buddy Jackson headed toward the door. If he walked in, I knew he would be recognized, and I knew he would out me. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want Piper’s expression changing to one of excitement that she was talking to a Hollywood star. I didn’t want our whole innocent interaction tainted. It had been fun, and it had been the first time I felt I’d been up to let my guard down in a while.
“I’ve got to run, hon, but have a good day,” I said quickly then made a beeline for the door to make sure that Jackson didn’t make it inside first. I could see the look of disappointment on her face, and I felt a hardening in my groin that told me that she wasn’t the only one upset that I’d had to leave. It had been for the best, though. There was no way she would have wanted to eat a shit-ton of cupcakes around me if she’d known who I really was.
For some reason, women didn’t tend to eat much around me at all.
I sat on the couch, cupcake-less, and thought about Piper, the hottie in the cupcake store. She’d been fun, but there was no point thinking about her or what could have been; the moment was gone. I was curious how she would have reacted if she’d known who I really was. Would she have gushed all over me, hoping to be my playmate for the evening?
I made my way through the gossip websites to see if I was mentioned, and then stopped when I saw my name on the top of one of the pages.
“Hollywood Heartthrob Oracle Lion dumps another model,” read the top headline on a national news website. I clicked on the article and saw a photo of Cassie Cash and me on the beach in Kauai, Hawaii, and skimmed the first paragraph. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the words that the reporter had used to describe my relationship with Cassie. “Hot and heavy since they met in London”? “Late nights spent skinny dipping”? Complete and utter fabrications. I didn’t even know Cassie that well. We’d both been hired by a top designer to do a photos hoot for a new summer wear line, and while we’d flirted on the beach and gone to dinner one night, that had been it. She was a hottie, but I hadn’t even tried to kiss her; she’d been too ditzy and plastic, even for me.
I shut down my laptop without bothering to read the rest of the article. It didn’t matter to me. In fact, it was great for my image to be in the news all the time. I didn’t care if it was for my movies or my women. I knew I’d have to call my mom, though; even after all these years, she still believed all the trash gossip these wannabe reporters wrote about me. And she still got upset. I sighed at the thought of having to explain to her once again that no, I hadn’t just dumped another model, and no, I wasn’t dating anyone special and no, I was not planning on getting married and having kids any time soon. I didn’t plan on it ever, but I knew she didn’t want to hear that.
“Yo, Oracle, Bruno says there are three chicks at the door. He wants to know if he should let them in?”
My best friend Jackson Camden walked into my study looking up from his cell phone with a quizzical look. I shook my head. Bruno was Jackson’s personal bodyguard and was always around. He was a cool guy, but he took his job way too seriously. Though I suppose that his job as the bodyguard of one of the most famous rock stars in the world was pretty important.
“Nah, they aren’t with me.” I shook my head. “Most probably some groupies or reporters.”
“Pity.” He grinned. “Would have been nice to get the party started right tonight.” He winked at me, and I groaned. “What? You know you want to have fun tonight as well.”
“It’s not like when we were in college, dude. We can’t just hook up with randoms.” I laughed as we walked through the doorway down the hall to my kitchen. “Paparazzi will be there, ready and waiting.”
“Pity.” Jackson chuckled to himself and pulled out two beers from my fridge. “Dude, you have nothing but beer in here.”
“Yeah, I know. Rosa needs to go shopping. She’s been on vacation with her family.” I shrugged as I caught the IPA he’d thrown me. “She’s back next week.”
Rosa was my housekeeper, and she basically kept my place clean and stocked. Without her, I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d have dirty towels and no food, ever. Though I’m pretty sure my mom would love for me to fire Rosa so she could come on over and take care of everything. There was no way in hell that I was going to let that happen, though. I liked my independence way too much.
“You’re spoiled, you know that, right, Zach?” Jackson used my real name as he chugged on his beer. “I’m hungry.”
“Then order a pizza or something.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here to feed you. You can do it yourself.” We walked back down the hall into my den, and he sat on the black leather couch while I sat on the large red concrete chair shaped like the palm of a hand. My interior decorator had said would be a great statement piece in my house. She’d been correct; it stood out in the plain room, but not in a good way. I thought the chair was ugly and uncomfortable, but then again, it went with the house. I’d bought it about a year ago, but it had never really felt like a home.
“So, what are we doing tonight? We gotta have fun. I’m flying out tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” I adjusted myself on the hard surface and stared at his spiked black hair and all-black leather outfit. “I thought you were here for a month?”
“Nah, going back to New York tomorrow evening. Going to be on The Today Show on Monday.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal, which, of course, it wasn’t. We’d both been on TV more times than we could count. To be honest, it was boring to be on TV now. Almost everything about being rich and famous was boring. “So where are we going? Brad was telling me about some cool new club in We-Ho that I thought we could check out. Meet a couple of ladies, have them begging to be with us.”
“Begging to be with us?” I scoffed and then laughed. It wasn’t like his words weren’t true. Every woman wanted to be with Jackson Camden and Oracle Lion, the so-called foxes of Hollywood. I was used to it by now. “Sounds cool. Haven’t hooked up in a while.”
“What’s it been? A week?” Jackson asked with a raised eyebrow and we both laughed. “So, how’s the new movie going? Started shooting yet?”
“No, they just changed directors.” I shook my head. “Who knows what’s going to happen next. I’m looking at some scripts myself, going to try my hand at directing or something like that.”
“Yeah?” He nodded and took another chug. “Finally. You’ve been saying that since college.”
“I know.”
I looked at the original 1941 poster of Citizen Kane hanging on my wall. At the top of the poster, it said, “Everybody’s Talking About It! It’s Terrific,” and next to the words was an image of Orson Welles. Citizen Kane had been the movie that had changed my life as a kid. I could still remember watching it with my mom. She had always loved the old movies and I loved sharing them with her. I’d been mesmerized by the screen, the black-and-white images and Orson Welles. He hadn’t been a particularly handsome man, but he captured your attention and never let it go.
Ever since I’d seen that movie, I’d wanted to make movies. Real, hardcore, deep, thought-provoking movies. Movies that made people talk about issues, movies that made people talk about me. I’d achieved one of the two, but the movies I made now were empty and tasteless. I wanted something different in my life. I looked around the large room at the obscene paintings and sculptures that made people talk. The bright red accent wall that offended my vision every time I sat in here. Everything about my life was fake and for show and in a way shallow.
“So, you’re going to direct Babymaker Four, then?” Jackson laughed so hard at his joke that he tipped forward. His eyes met mine with an expression of mirth and I just smiled at him in response. Jackson knew how much I hated the Babymaker movies, but they were what was responsible for my substantial bank account. America loved me as the babymaker, and while the movies had catapulted my career, he knew I wasn’t happy.
“Sorry, dude. I know it’s not funny.” He sighed and sat back, his eyes suddenly looking sad. “Who would have thought this would be where we’d end up, eh?”
All the life seemed to have been sucked out of him at that moment. We were only thirty-five, but both of us were disillusioned with life and our respective careers. When we’d enrolled as freshmen at the University of Central Florida and formed a student band, we’d never dreamed that we’d make it this big. Never in our wildest dreams had we thought that we’d be A-list stars with the world at our feet.
Only we didn’t really have the world at our feet.
“Funny.” I shook my head and sighed. “No, I’m not going to be making bloody Babymaker Four.”
“I thought I saw on Access Hollywood that you signed a thirty-million-dollar deal and you’re starring with Frenchie?” He tilted his head to the side. “Did they get it wrong?”
“No.” My voice was abrupt as I stood up. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Wanna hit up Chateau Marmont for dinner? My treat.”
“Your treat?” Jackson laughed. “As if. I’m your guest, I got it.”
“Are you really my guest if I never invited you?” I raised an eyebrow at him and we both laughed. Jackson walked over to me and swung an arm around my back.
“I’ve missed you, brother,” he said as he patted my shoulders. “It’s been too long.”
“Well, who told you to go and be an international rock star?”
“You could always join the band again. We could go on tour together.”
“Nah, those days are past me. You know I only did the music for fun.”
“I know, I know. Your heart is with the movies.”
“Yeah, something like that.” I nodded. “Okay, I’m off to shower and get changed. You know where your room is. Feel free to use any of the five other bathrooms on offer.”
“Cool. Also, just want to check that …” His voice trailed off as I held my hand up with a chuckle.
“Yes, Jackson. Feel free to bring back any chicks tonight, but just make sure they’re gone by the morning, please. I don’t need a repeat of what happened last time.”
“Got it, got it.” He grinned. “And hey, I didn’t know that one of the girls stayed. I honestly thought that all of them had gone. I counted five heads leaving after our quickie in the shower.”
“Yeah, you counted five heads, but you had six women over.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “I really don’t know how you do it.”
“I don’t remember you being so sanctimonious that night. Didn’t you have a threesome with those two waitresses?”
“Perhaps.” I laughed. “Just make sure they’re all gone in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted me like I was some sort of captain. “Here’s to making sure my harem is all gone in the morning.”
“Yeah, please make sure. I’m going to the beach shack tomorrow night after you leave, so don’t want any unwelcome guests staying over.”
“You ever going to let me see that place?” Jackson asked, and I just laughed without answering.
He knew the answer to that. The beach shack was my private domain. The only people that knew of its location was me and my attorney. No one had ever visited. Not even my mother. It was the only place I had where I could truly relax and switch off. It was my own personal sanctuary. Without it, I would have lost my mind.
I walked out of the room and headed toward my bedroom, barely even glancing at the African masks that adorned the hallway leading to my exclusive wing of the house. They always freaked me out if I looked at them too closely. I felt as if there were African spirits contained in their empty faces, waiting to come out and ask me why I had such a large collection of Yoruba and Maasai masks when I’d never so much as visited the African continent.
As I reached my bedroom, I pulled out my phone and saw two missed calls. One was from my mother and the other one, well, the other one was from someone I had no wish to speak to ever again.
I threw the phone onto my mattress and walked into the bathroom, pulling my clothes off as I walked. I turned on the shower and stood underneath the too-hot water, letting it scald my skin as if that would somehow help to cleanse me of all the things I hated about myself.