The pitter-patter from Kiki’s Michael Kors Vail patent leather d’orsay wedges tapped the marble floors. “Coming, Miss Brill.”
“HELPPP.” Motionless atop the exercise equipment, disbelief gripped her core. She held the paper with both hands, moisture between her legs. Brayden’s image paused on the screen with Waris Sugar rapping into her headset.
“What is it?” Kiki asked with a short breath. “What’s going on here?”
She threw the periodical in Kiki’s direction, ripping the earbuds out and wiping her wet body down with a towel. “Did you see this?”
Perplexed, Kiki collected the damp pages from the floor and glared at page sixty-nine. “Oh my goodness.” Kiki’s usually saucer-sized eyes enlarged to soup bowls. “Poor Birdie.”
“Cancel Portugal!”
Kiki’s hands started shaking.
Taddy climbed off the elliptical and braced Kiki’s narrow shoulders. “Do me a favor.”
“Anything, Miss Brill.”
“Track down an expert on Stevens–Johnson syndrome.” Taddy squeezed Kiki’s shoulders tighter. She hated to say this for Lex’s sake. “We don’t have much time. I want you to find the best doctor in the world, you hear me?”
Her assistant nodded, sinking in her pumps. “Does Birdie have health insurance?” Kiki asked.
Kiki’s uprightness annoyed Taddy at times. “Lex and Birdie are broke.” She pushed down onto her assistant’s petite body.
“What about Eddie’s estate?” Kiki’s voice echoed confusion, shoulders collapsing.
“Rocker Easton left them with no will.” Her nails dug into Kiki’s skin. She’d never spoken ill about the Eastons to anyone, in particular a Brill, Inc. employee, but Taddy seethed on, “Everything that legend earned, Eddie intravenously shot into his veins.”
Eddie’s manager—and Birdie’s—Jasper Records retained the catalog rights to his songs. An agreement he’d signed off on before his death to pay his debts.
“Ouch! Miss Brill.” Kiki broke from her boss’s embrace, rubbing her apparently sore arms. She inched for the door.
“Book it under my credit card. Lex is like a sister to me. I’ll pay for the medical fees.”
“One hour and I’ll have some answers for you.”
Embarrassed that she’d mauled her assistant, Taddy folded her arms and called her back. “And, Kiki…”
“Yes, Miss Brill?” Kiki stared down at her boss’s nails.
“I didn’t mean that crap about Eddie.” She pulled her damp hair from her face and noticed her hands trembling. “I’m upset is all.”
Her assistant looked into her eyes. She stepped forward maybe to extend a hug.
“Thank you for your assistance. I’ll let you get on with your day.” Taddy didn’t embrace or cuddle her staff so she shooed her away.
The second Kiki closed the door, Taddy dropped to the floor. I knew I should have taken Birdie to the hospital when this all started. Shit. Taddy was the one in the group who always got everything done. Sitting on the sidelines to watch how this played out wasn’t in her nature. She was pissed at herself for even trying.
If Lex lost her mother and father both within a two-year period, she’d break. Taddy would do whatever was needed for Birdie to get through this. Yes, Birdie breathed crazy, but in the very end, Lex’s mother wasn’t a bad person, at least not intentionally. A drug addict and a scatterbrain—all influenced by the celebrity Eddie Easton’s doing. She loved her man more than herself or her child. However, on those rare days when Birdie sobered up, she adored Lex and even Taddy at times—in her own way. More than Countess Irma Brillford ever did.
Chapter Four
Mud Mask Wishes with Auntie Muffie
December 23
Vancouver, Canada
No doubt Kiki had tracked down the best medical expert possible. She called New York University’s medical center, which patched her through to the US Department of Health and Human Services. The physician’s assistant referred her to an article published in the American Journal of Health-System Pharmacy, and she contacted the expert quoted at the Mayo Clinic. The clinic then suggested Dr. Rothman in Canada.
Confident they’d get some answers, Taddy secured an appointment the very next day for Birdie and Lex to meet Dr. Rothman at Concord Van General Hospital in Vancouver, Canada. They flew out that night for the West Coast.
A mess over Birdie’s diagnosis possibilities, Lex didn’t speak.
Taddy put herself up at a hotel down the street. She gave the troubled mother-daughter duo enough privacy to mourn, but remained available in case the worst proved yet to come. She’d spent bleaker Christmases by herself. This was nothing. Alone in a hotel room watching A Christmas Story on cable wasn’t hell. If the TV played Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, Taddy might feel otherwise.
Covering her body in a Baden Cosmetics moor mud mask, Taddy opened a detox drink she’d agreed to test market. The Baden Cosmetics beverage can sat on the table waiting for her feedback. Not yet FDA approved, the product’s formula was still being tweaked. She remained brave for client adventures. Taking a sip, Taddy worked on her New Year’s goals for Brill, Inc. Her strategy next year involved supersizing her firm for global domination.
She wished Vive had come with them. Vive’s ability to deflect one’s negative thoughts during times such as this with her irreverence would be refreshing right about now.
Fear and sadness came over Taddy. She struggled with a rare urge to call her parents. That video in Birdie’s room reminded her of what her parents had looked like. Taddy had tried so hard to forget. This sentiment—to belong to something, to someone—came each Christmas. It was hard not to hear their voices. Irma could capture anyone’s attention with her society gossip and snide jokes. And the interest her father had always shown in what she read and thought about the world around her still kept Taddy on her toes with current events. They were happy memories, few, but ones she elected to keep with her.
So much time had passed and still no word. She’d written countless letters telling them off, but had never mailed them. Wasn’t Taddy good enough to be their daughter? Mental health doctors prescribed her the latest happy pills on the market to help her through the pain. From Ativan to Zoloft, nothing worked. A few years ago, Taddy made peace with not having a relationship with her folks. No one would be okay with abandonment. It didn’t feel natural. However, to breathe, to walk, to not crumble, she knew no other choice. The gaping hole in her heart remained.