Z: Off the Record by Heat + Heart Book Club

Author:Heat + Heart Book Club [Colbert, T.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub

A few minutes later, we pull up to a massive retirement community. A security guard leads us around through a private entrance, and I wonder when the last time was that Dax has been through a regular entrance anywhere.

We park and he helps me out, leading me across a gravel pathway. I have my bag with me, complete with my recorder and my journal. He rolls his eyes as he watches me lift it over my shoulder.

“Hey, you said this was all for the article,” I say with a shrug.

He smiles. “I know what I said,” he chuckles. “But I think you know what I meant.”

No, no I don’t, Mr. Rockstar. Enlighten me. But before I can ask for some clarification, he’s leading me down a pebble path.

All the front doors of the community are painted a different pastel color. The grass is the greenest I’ve ever seen, and all the homes face a large lake in the center of the community. He doesn’t seem to be hiding as much here, and I realize it’s because the sixty-five-and-older community is probably not really his fan base. We reach a peach-colored door, and Dax knocks three times. Within seconds, it opens, and I recognize her immediately from the picture he showed me. Aunt Gerri.

She bursts into tears, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face on his shoulder.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she says, slapping his chest once he puts her down. Then she catches a glimpse of me. “And who is this?” she asks, looking up at him.

“This is Shay,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist and nudging me forward. “She’s writing a few articles on me for Shrine magazine, and we’ve become good friends. I thought it would be nice to introduce her to you. Maybe you can answer a few questions,” he says.

I step forward and stick out my hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Miss—”

“Gerri. Just Gerri,” she says, taking my hand. “And it’s nice to meet you too, dear. Come on in!”

Aunt Gerri’s condo is gigantic. I know Dax must have splurged and got her the highest-end model the community had to offer. She has three bedrooms, a view of the water, a sundeck. . . everything. We sit down in the living room, and she brings us lemonade. She tells us about her friend Camilla and how they golfed every day last week. She plays bingo once a week at the recreation center, and her arthritis hasn’t been near as bad lately. Then she asks what he’s been up to.

“Well, I went to Baltimore last week,” he tells her, sitting back on the couch. We’re sitting a few feet apart, but when he stretches his arm across the top of the couch, his fingers are just inches from my shoulder. I’m extra aware of how close we are, but to him, it’s like it doesn’t matter. Like we sit like this all the time, almost touching. I shake my head, trying to get it together and look as casual as possible.

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