Secret Confessions of the Applewood PTA by Ellen Meister

Author:Ellen Meister
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Chapter Fourteen

When Ruth pulled into the parking lot of North Applewood Elementary School, it was deserted except for one other car. She parked right next to it and peered inside. Sure enough, it was Jill Slotnick-Weiss.

Jill motioned for Ruth to come inside her car, which she did.

“Cold today,” Ruth said as she slammed the door. “Are they here yet?”

Ruth and Jill were scheduled to meet the movie producer and set designer at the school so they could see the location for themselves. It was the producer’s idea to meet at the ungodly hour of six A.M.

“Still waiting,” Jill said, looking at her watch.

“What’s he like? The producer?”

“I’ve only spoken to his secretary, but she said to be forewarned.”

“What does that mean?” Ruth asked.

Just then, the women heard a screech and saw a yellow sports car veer into the parking lot so fast a lesser vehicle wouldn’t have made it on all four wheels. The driver pulled up sideways in front of Jill’s car and came to an abrupt stop. The door opened from the bottom like the hatch on a spaceship.

A man emerged. Not tall, but he loomed like a giant compared to the flat profile of his foreign sports car. He was tan with thinning blond hair, and wore a black knit shirt with short sleeves that hugged his meticulously pumped biceps. Vanity, Ruth thought. He’d rather freeze than hide his muscles under a jacket. Probably works out with a personal trainer every day. In his own gym. Bet he’s got his own tanning booth, too. And that microfiber T-shirt. Any sleeker and it would be liquid. Could this guy be more L.A.? Ruth wondered if he paid someone to airlift his Lamborghini from the Coast so he wouldn’t have to drive a rental.

The women got out of the car and approached. Jill extended her hand and introduced herself.

“Rod Martin,” he said as he gruffly shook her hand. “Where the fuck is my set designer?”

“Uh, not here yet,” Jill stammered. “This is Ruth Moss. She’s our school liaison.”

Rod Martin grunted at Ruth and shook her hand. “I told that little shit to be early so I wouldn’t have to stand around waiting for him.” He reached into his pants pocket and extracted the tiniest cell phone Ruth had ever seen. As he punched in numbers, Ruth studied his face and tried to figure out why he looked familiar. Did she know him from somewhere? Maybe he wasn’t a Californian after all.

“Where the fuck are you?” he barked into the phone. “Yeah? Well, tell him to hurry. I’m not going to wait around all day. I have to be back in the city at nine for a meeting.”

He shut his miniature phone and said to no one in particular, “Little prick is taking a limo out here. Spends my money like he’s a fucking star.”

“You’re from L.A.?” Ruth asked.

He made a noise that sounded like puh, followed by, “Unfortunately.”

Ruth shrugged. She guessed she didn’t know him after all. Probably just his alpha-maleness that seemed so familiar.

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