Page 114 of Hard Count
“Sit,” she ordered.
She told him about Riley Dane and what the window was, maybe a week for this whole thing to blow the fuck up.
Piper listened without interrupting. When she finished, she looked at him and waited.
He said, “Noah knows none of this.”
“Carmen is letting him know now.”
“Fuck Riley, these self-hating influencers are dead to me.” Piper slammed his fist into the fridge leaving a large dent.
“Honey, I know your season is over but don’t break your money makers.”
Piper calmed down. He went quiet for a long time. Vivienne waited.
Then he said, “What do you need from me?”
“I need you not to contact Noah.”
He looked up. “I can’t. Anyway, Jayson will find out.”
“I also need you to stay in this house for the next four days. Your fucking season is over, so you don’t need to be anywhere but this twenty-thousand square foot house. No Erewhon. No Nobu. No drinks with Tank at his place. Tank can come here.”
“Okay.”
“You are going to get the urge to call your mother. Do not call your fucking mother. She will want the ghost of fucking Barbara Walters to interview her about her gay pro-football son’s outing.”
He looked at her. “I promise I won’t call Donna.”
“There is something, something Henry shared with me. The facility in Santa Barbara where your mom is.”
Piper kept still. Vivienne kept her voice soft for a moment.
“Jayson is on the admissions paperwork as the responsible party for your mother. Discharge authority runs through Jayson, not you. All bills are hitting your accounts though.”
Piper heard himself breathe.
“I thought she checked herself in, I was there.”
“Jayson put her there, under terms Jayson wrote. I am not saying she doesn’t need care. The bitch does. I am saying the care she is getting is a room he owns, and she has no authority to leave. I am saying that if you call her this week, or if you try to visit her this week, or if you instruct the facility in any way this week, he will know, and he will hurt her. I am asking you not to, please Piper.”
Piper put his hands flat on the counter. He kept his eyes down. The marble was cold under his palms.
“How long have you known?”
“Less than twenty-four hours.”
“You waited.”
“I waited because I needed to tell you in person. I have the rest of it now. Henry gave me the file when I was in NYC. You have a right to know. She has been sober for two years, but unable to leave the facility.”
He went quiet for a while.
“I thought she was sick.”
“Your mother is not sick, Piper. That is the part he used.”
He was silent for a minute. Then he said, “Can I break something other than my hand?”
