We walked past all the people scurrying around, stepping over cables as we went. Ollie teetered along behind me, holding a bunch of bags while I held only my small clutch.

  I knew that Ollie was sweating by now. He broke out in a sweat on a cold day while standing still, so in here, under the already hot lights, carrying all our stuff—as an assistant would—he had to be soaked.

  Luckily he was wearing his own pair of black skinny jeans and a fitted, black Versace sweater with a swirly gold print decorating the front, so you couldn’t see if he was soaking through them. On his face was a pair of oversized gold glasses. The whole look was over-the-top for sure, but I had a feeling nobody would be paying much attention to us today.

  Because today was all about Emma and Sam.

  It was officially the first day of filming their reality show, and everyone seemed on edge. Or at the very least, distracted. Which was good.

  I could work with distracted.

  We followed the line of crew members through room after room until we finally found the twins. When we breezed through the door, they were both sitting in makeup chairs, lounging with drinks and magazines, as a group of people worked on them. I looked around and wondered if the glam room had always been there or if they’d built it especially for this.

  Now that they were going to be filmed 24/7, I guess it made sense that they would need to be camera-ready. Wouldn’t want to be shiny when we’re being reintroduced to the world, now would we?

  “Vous voilà deux,” I said, sashaying over and standing in between them so they could both see me in their mirrors. “Bonjour, mes chers. Êtes-vous prêt pour la journée?”

  There you two are! Good morning, my dears. Are you ready for the day?

  “Oui!” Emma gushed, wiggling her toes in excitement. “Oh, Brigeet, can you believe this is all happening? This morning I woke up before it was even light out and just watched the sun rise. Have you ever watched the sun rise? And not, like, when you’re heading home from the club and the sun happens to be coming up while you’re half asleep in the back of a town car. I mean, like, waking up and bathing in the light of a new day!”

  Emma finally took a breath and looked at me expectantly for a response. I quickly caught up with her rambling and brushed my hair away from my face absently.

  “Oui. I’ve had the fortune of witnessing a sunrise or two in my time,” I said in my French-American accent.

  “I think I’d rather watch the sun set,” Sam chimed in, taking a sip from his disgusting-looking green juice drink and giving one of the young makeup artists a wink. “More romantic, am I right?”

  The girl gave him a flustered smile before starting to paint Emma’s toenails.

  A lanky, tall, and disheveled-looking guy walked into the room, hoodie pulled up over his head, hands in his pockets. I instantly took him for an intern. Or some assistant of the assistant.

  I certainly wouldn’t have pegged him as the one in charge.

  “And how are you guys doing?” he asked, his voice sounding like a parent talking to a child. Sickly sweet but tentative, like at any moment the kid could blow.

  I had to appreciate his foresight.

  “Fabulous,” Emma said, applying a layer of gloss to her lips while staring in the mirror. “Just finishing up.”

  “Oh,” the guy said, looking utterly surprised. “That’s great! Because all the cameras are up and ready to go. And the construction crew have been at the site waiting for you to arrive and kick off the project. So…”

  Emma reached over to Sam and squeezed his arm excitedly.

  “Awesome,” Sam said, pointing out a section of his hair to the stylist and then closing his eyes so she could spray it with more hairspray.

  “So, we should be done here in about, oh…” Emma looked around the room, seeming to make a list in her head. “Maybe forty-five minutes? Definitely in an hour.” “Oh,” the director said, deflating in front of our eyes. “Um, I guess I’ll go to tell everyone to hang tight, then.”

  “Thanks, love,” Emma said cheerfully.

  As the guy turned to walk away, Emma suddenly sat up straight in her chair, sending the girl painting her nails to the ground as she followed her foot.

  “Oh, Derek, wait!” she said. “I’m so rude, forgive me.” A relieved look washed over Derek’s face as he turned back around to look at her.

  “Yeah?” he asked hopefully.

  “I just wanted to introduce you to Brigeet and her assistant,” she turned to me, searching. “What’s his name again? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. They’re from French Fur magazine and are here to do feature on us and the Pet Palace Project. You’ll give them whatever they need, yeah?”

  Derek shriveled up again but took a step toward me and held out his hand.

  “Hey. I’m Derek. The director of this whole…thing,” he said unenthusiastically. He gave me a curt smile and then raised his eyes back up to Emma and Sam. “So, thirty minutes then?”

  He asked this with hope in his voice.

  “Somewhere around there,” Emma answered noncommittally.

  “Great,” Derek, the director, muttered before slinking out of the room.

  I thought about telling Emma that if she didn’t want to be destroyed by the editors on the show, she should probably start treating the crew a little better, but then I remembered I didn’t care about Emma and Sam.

  I was here for another reason completely.

  “We will let you two finish up here,” I said, and motioned to Ollie that we were leaving.

  “You don’t want to start the interviews now?” Emma asked, frowning.

  “I thought you would like to use this time to collect yourselves before your every thought and move is captured on the moving picture, no?” I said, trying to think of an excuse to get out of there without raising suspicion.

  Emma stared at me blankly for a minute and I grew weary. Ollie and I needed some time to roam around the estate and try to find the exotics. We weren’t going to be able to do that from here.

  Finally, Emma’s face broke out into a smile.

  “Of course,” she said, nodding. “That’s an excellent idea. Maybe I’ll do a little meditation and center myself with some breath work.”

  She reached forward and grabbed a few cucumber slices and placed them over her eyes before relaxing back into her chair.

  I had a feeling she was about to take a nap instead of meditate, but I wasn’t about to stop her. As long as her eyes were closed and she wasn’t focused on what we were up to, I didn’t care.

  “Cool,” Sam said, chugging the rest of his drink and hopping down from his chair. “I’m gonna go do some push-ups. I want to look jacked when we start filming.”

  He leaned over the stylist to grab his phone, grazing her body as he did it. After giving her a loaded look, he straightened back up before walking toward the door.

  “I’ll be in the gym if anyone wants to watch me work out,” he offered to no one in particular.

  No thank you.

  There’s somewhere else we needed to be.

  Entry Twenty-Three

  They weren’t anywhere.

  Ollie and I spent an hour driving around on that golf cart looking for the exotics and came up with nothing. The grounds were so vast, and at times hilly and so thick with trees, that they could’ve been hidden anywhere.

  To keep suspicions low, we limited our search to about an hour, before heading back to the main house to watch the twins oversee the construction that had begun less than a hundred feet from their back door. While they filmed, we took the time to learn more about them.

  Like, how Emma had two hundred pairs of heels in her closet, displayed in sections by color, yet she preferred to wear flats. Or that Sam played six different instruments and had a whole room downstairs set up with equipment just so he and his friends could have jam sessions.

  Sometimes I liked them more after learning these fun little facts. Sometimes I was left even more motivated to destroy them. It seemed to change hourly.

  When everyone broke for lunch, Ollie and I headed out again, driving on the other side of the property this time.

  And still, there was nothing. No animals. No cages. No signs of wildlife anywhere.

  The next few days were a blur of splitting our time between The Farm and our volunteer work there, and conducting our fake interviews with Emma and Sam when they weren’t filming.

  Fake or not, the interviews turned out to be…enlightening.

  Like, I’d thought at first that Emma and Sam were simply going to be figureheads when it came to the building of the palace. That they’d shoot a few scenes showing them in charge, when in reality someone else would be making all of the decisions and overseeing whether things were getting done.

  But they were both incredibly hands-on.

  Sam had a clear vision for the layout of the structure. He knew he wanted three levels with multiple bedrooms, a jacuzzi big enough for both dogs out back, and a living room with a flat screen that would play different animal movies all day long. I learned through one of his confessionals that he’d been a few credits shy of having a degree in architecture before he dropped out of Columbia.

  Emma was no slouch either.

  She’d hired the same interior designer who had decorated their own mansion and was working side by side with her to outfit the pet palace when it was finished being built. For hours, the two pored over different hardwood floor swatches, doggy beds, furniture, and accent pieces. Everything from the shade of the light bulbs to the color, shape, and material of the dog dishes was decided on by the heiress herself.

  It was actually quite impressive—if you could forget that they were doing all of this for a couple of dogs.

  One day, while the crew was busy re-lighting a room, I took the opportunity to try to suss out where the zoo might be. Because so far, our search for the exotics had been a bust. And if we could just narrow it down, it’d make everything so much easier.

  “Considering how big the palace is going to be, does that mean you see yourselves taking in more pets? Maybe a few rescues?” I asked while Emma sat in a chair with Lady Godiva on her lap. “Wait, are Lady Godiva and Titan the only animals you have right now?”

  I asked this like it had only just dawned on me that there might be other furry friends on the property.

  A sly smile spread across Emma’s face. “There might be a few more critters running around,” she said. “But these are our babies.”

  “And I can see why,” I lied. “They are precious.”

  I leaned forward to pet the dog on Emma’s lap, and she snapped at my hand and then growled.

  “Sorry,” Emma said, though she didn’t actually sound all that apologetic. “Lady Godiva takes some time to warm up to people.”

  “Ce n’est pas un problème,” I said, waving her off.

  It’s no problem.

  “I have found that many in your social circle have pets that are more…how you say…sauvage?” I said, pushing a little further.

  Wild.

  I knew it was a risk to pry, but I’d gotten closer to them over the past few days. They’d opened up about their upbringings, what it was like to live in the shadow of their grandfather, those crazy nights running around New York City with other rich kids. With everything they’d already divulged, I figured they might be willing to confide about their illegal dealings. Or at least give me something that would lead me to where they were hiding the exotics.

  Emma’s eyes flickered over to her brother, but he was simply staring off into the distance.

  “Do they?” Emma answered cautiously. “I didn’t know that. Then again, people don’t exactly offer up their more…questionable life choices, do they? At least, around here they don’t. Though, nothing surprises me anymore.”

  “So, there aren’t any lion cubs running around?” I asked jokingly, in case I was going too far.

  Silence.

  Just when it was about to get uncomfortable, Sam suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh.

  “Can you imagine?” he asked, laughing hysterically. Then, he stopped abruptly and put his finger up to his chin. “Though, I bet that might draw in the ladies. Chicks dig a guy that’s a little dangerous, am I right? Hey, Em, maybe we should look into getting a lion.”

  Emma chuckled, too.

  “Sorry, Brigeet, no lions here,” she said to me, stroking Lady Godiva. “As much as we love animals—and we totally do—we’re not really…cat people.”

  I tried not to let my disappointment show.

  They were good.

  And I still didn’t have any idea where the exotics were.

  “Be careful not to say that in front of the film crew,” I said conspiratorially. I pointed to the tiny microphone attached to the inside of her dress. “And always make sure your mic isn’t on.”

  Emma’s eyes grew wide and her hands flew to her neckline. When she was sure it had been turned off, she let out a breath.

  “Way to look out,” Sam said, nodding at me appreciatively.

  “Ce n’est rien,” I said.

  It’s nothing.

  A regal-looking man came in then and set down a tray of food for Emma and Sam.

  “Do you guys want anything?” Emma asked as she grabbed a pear from the roundup.

  “No, thank you,” I said, waving her off. “We will leave you be so you can eat.”

  “All right,” Sam said, already digging into some sushi that looked homemade—and delicious. “See you guys later.”

  Ollie and I scrambled to leave as quickly as we could without literally running away. We hadn’t had time that morning to search, and we still had so much ground to cover.

  “Can I drive this time?” Ollie asked as we walked up to the cart.

  “I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.

  “Come on, Frankie!” he whined. “I haven’t gotten to do anything fun yet. I did all that training after the last job so that I could play a bigger part this time. And all I’ve done so far is carry your bags and be ignored by the wonder twins back there.”

  “Your cover is as my assistant this time,” I argued. “It’s not like I’m choosing not to let you do anything. You’re doing what an assistant does. And you’re doing a great job!”

  Ollie looked at me like he wanted to strangle me.

  I gave him a smile and tried to look innocent.

  But it didn’t work. He knew my tricks too well by now.

  I sighed.

  “Okay,” I conceded. “You can drive.”

  I handed him the keys and got in the passenger side.

  “Really?” he asked, closing his hands over the keys like they were precious jewels about to be stolen. “I had this whole argument ready if you said no—”

  “Would you rather me say no?” I asked him impatiently.

  Ollie shook his head and jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “Where to?” he asked me, like he was now my personal driver.

  I looked at the expanse of land in front of us.

  “Driver’s choice,” I said, sinking into my seat and getting comfortable. Maybe having Ollie drive us from now on would be the smarter option. It’s what an assistant would do, anyway.

  I closed my eyes, soaking in the sun while simultaneously shivering in the cold as we crossed the uneven terrain.

  My mind began to drift almost immediately.

  What if we never found the exotics?

  How long could we actually keep all this up before we were forced to head back to our regular lives?

  We’d already called out sick from The Farm a few times, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave Kayla in a lurch.

  Was it possible the animals weren’t even on the twins’ property? Maybe Emma and Sam had a special holding place for them somewhere else, that way their illegal dealings weren’t directly tied to them.

  “Frankie,” Ollie said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  What if we never got the twins to admit to the trafficking and never found the animals? What if all of this was a waste of time?

  “Uh, Frankie?” Ollie said again, more insistent this time.

  I felt the cart begin to slow but didn’t want to open my eyes just yet. If I didn’t open them then none of what I’d just thought up could be true.

  “What’s up?” I asked Ollie reluctantly.

  Before he could answer, a booming roar filled the air.

  My eyes shot open then and I immediately took in the tiger that was pacing back and forth in front of us. I wasn’t exactly an expert at reading cats, but it was pretty clear that the animal was agitated and on the hunt.

  The question was, were we the prey?

  Before I could think of how to escape, a scream caught in my throat as the tiger lunged right at us.

  Entry Twenty-Four

  The gigantic beast hit the side of the cage hard.

  The metal container trembled, and for a hot second, I thought it might come down. Luckily, it stayed put.

  But the tiger didn’t.

  He got back up like nothing had happened and began to pace his cage again.

  My heart was pounding like it might pop out of my chest and I scrambled out of the passenger seat only to fall to the ground in shock. Though my legs felt like Jell-O, I managed to scoot backward across the dirt until my back hit something solid.

  I was finding it hard to breathe with the adrenaline that was coursing through me, and knew that I needed to calm down, otherwise I could pass out.

  Breathe in, two, three, four.

  Breathe out two, three, four.

  I fought to gain control over my body again, employing a calming technique Dad had taught me long ago. But the effects were short-lived.

  Just as I felt myself begin to calm down, and let the reality wash over me that we had found the exotics, something brushed against my hair.

 

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