A.N. OMG. Why did I just sit down and write two chapters? Eek. Anyway, here's the next part. Like a week and a half too early. Lol. This is a very, very important chapter. And MORE new characters. Yayz!

Chapter 10

The More Things Change

Roger spent the rest of his time in the mountains, scouring every last corner of the land he had purchased. With Henry's permission they rushed the transaction, and now his fancy signature was scrawled across the paperwork. It was his.

The bright blue sky, the sparkling water, everything. He didn't even mind the junk that was piled on top of the mountain. All in good time.

When he returned Henry's trusty old horse, and the one dog that had followed him on all of his excursions, for the last time he felt an emptiness form in the pit of his stomach. He had great plans for this place, some of which were already under way. Three dark blotches in the distance marked the place where the wild horses, his horses, were currently residing at, most of them hidden from his sight.

They would not go hungry this winter, and his photographer had already sent off dozens of photos to the sculptures that worked for his father. He knew he had done all that he could in the short period of time he had been allotted. The bigger plans would have to wait.

The truck he had rented for his journeys didn't gleam as much as it had. Dust and mud coated every surface. He sighed when he slid behind the wheel, searching the greenery, searing it into his brain one last time before making his way back into town.

o.O.o

Another plane was waiting on him, foolish waste of energy he couldn't find a way out of, the drive south would have been good for his head. He didn't sleep this time, his brain was much too alive to take the short nap he could have squeezed in.

Still, it was only a blink of an eye it seemed until they were landing again. Las Vegas was an entirely different planet than the mountain had been. Sandy, hot, and dry.

The weather wasn't his biggest concern, and he ignored the instant sweat on the back of his neck. He was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that someone had sent up his car, and that he wouldn't have to rely on driver and rentals for the time being. One of the helpful men at the runway had given him a handy map of the city, and the day was starting to look up.

That feeling was short lived however, his father had spared no expense decorating and furnishing his apartment, bigger than most families probably lived in, and that happened to include several servants. His new cleaning crew was dusting and straightening throw pillows, and a chef was organizing the kitchen area.

Aggravated, Roger stormed back out of the building almost the moment he walked in. He had high hopes that being on his own would be just that. He only wanted to be normal, common. Instead his father was probably going out of his way to spy on him.

The day wasn't going to get any better he feared, and decided to hide for a bit, walking down the crowded streets and searching for a tiny place to eat. As luck would have it, he managed to find a nice diner and slid into a booth, dejected.

Heels clattered on the tile floor, and he looked up, expecting a waitress. He hadn't expected a familiar face.

"Tiffany," he said, looking up into the face of his last serious girlfriend.

The red head beamed, batting her heavily done eyes. "Oh it is you!" she squealed. "What on earth are you doing in Las Vegas!?" Then, without a proper invitation, she slid easily next to him, forcing him to scoot closer to the wall to make room for her.

She hadn't changed much. Her hair was darker now, a rich, although false, red, but she had the same dazzling blue eyes that had captured his attention first. Blue eyes seemed to be a weakness of his, he thought, making himself smile.

Unaware that the smile wasn't intended for her, Tiffany pressed a little closer, placing one perfectly manicured hand on his leg. "Well? Are you going to talk, or have I made you speechless?" She giggled, her metal bracelets jangling as she place her other hand over her mouth.

"I – I'm going to school here. What exactly are you doing here, Tiffany? Last I heard you had taken off to New York."

She made a delicate little noise. "New York? I wish. Daddy sent me here, after, well – " She cut off abruptly, and suddenly glanced around the room. "Never mind, it's not that important."

Roger was puzzled. Tiffany was the Mayor's oldest daughter, older sister to Joseph's currently fling, Penelope. The Hopes and the Darlings were some of the closest families in all of LA's finest, certainly that many people couldn't be mistaken. It was no secret that Tiffany had left for the east coast to model.

Over the past three years he hadn't thought much about it, but he had never seen her in any magazines or shows. "Did you get yourself into some trouble? You know, if you need anything, just ask," he offered helpfully, despite the tiny voice in his head reminding him of how things had gone the last time they had been in close quarters.

Something was truly off about her, although it was hidden beneath the bubbly, fake exterior that she rigorously applied each and every day. "Trouble? No, no. I'm well taken care of. It's nothing really. I need to be going. Enjoy your dinner, Roger. It was nice seeing you." She got up hastily after that, fleeing the restaurant as fast as she could on her thin heels. So hastily in fact, that she left behind her purse. One of those giant ugly things with the neon flowers.

He thought to go after her, although he didn't really want to get mixed up in whatever problems she had going on, but before he could make a definitive decision, Tiffany came back in. She had that deer caught in the headlights kind of look, wide eyed and frightened.

She took the few steps between the door and his table, but her whole body seemed tense, and a true blush was shining through her made up cheeks. "Sorry. I totally forgot my purse." Tiffany tried to smile, but it only came out as a grimace.

"What's going on?" he asked, holding her purse hostage for the moment.

She took a calming breath, but it didn't look like it helped all that much. "Nothing, really. None of your concern. I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Tiffany," Roger tried again. He was worried now. "Honestly, we were friends once, weren't we?"

She laughed. "Friends? Yes, I suppose. The kind of friends that romped all over the Caribbean like a pair of bunnies, yeah?"

That brought back a series of uncomfortable feelings from all different places, but Roger forced a nod. "I guess you're right."

"Let's just say I got a little more out of that trip than a few saucy memories, okay? Leave it at that. It's nothing. Move on. Penny says you've got a little peasant on your arm now."

Roger considered himself a smart man, a brilliant one even, but for whatever the reason, he couldn't make her words make sense. He was so stumped, he hadn't even thought to defend Anita's honor. "What do you mean 'a little more'?" he asked instead.

Tiffany sighed. "You don't want to know. Trust me. You're happier where you are. And we're , uh, I'm okay. Okay?"

He wondered if the rest of the patrons could see the gears in his brain whirling, only to come to a startling , heart wrenching halt. A weaker being would have fainted. "What?!"

He didn't need her to answer. He saw it in her face. Roger jumped to his feet, grabbed her by her arms and gave her a shake. "Why didn't you tell me? WHY?"

Fat tears came trickling down her cheeks, and he instantly relaxed his grip. "Tiffany, oh god. I don't understand."

"I – I didn't have a choice," she choked out, wiping her eyes. "They sent me out here and made me be quiet. Only Penny calls me now… but I'm not even allowed to tell her, Roger. I'm sorry."

"They know? My father knows about this, doesn't he?"

She nodded. Sobs wracked her body.

The world turned shades of red. Roger started hyperventilating, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails were biting into his palms. It took several minutes for him to calm down. Very aware that everyone else in the restaurant was staring, he gritted out two words. "Show me."

Shakily, Tiffany grabbed at her bag, popping the zipper open. It took her several tries, but she finally got her wallet opened up, and showed him the row of small photographs. Behind the one of her family, and one of her sister, a tiny boy grinned up at him. His pale hair was cut short, and his deep chocolate eyes seemed to be watching him through the picture. Roger searched the boy's tiny face. The blond hair could have come from either side, but the eyes were his, a perfect copy. And his nose, and Roger could make out some of his own mother in the boy's smile.

His chest constricted, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. The boy had to be two, but there was no denying it. He could feel it in his very soul. A little boy. His little boy. And he hadn't been hidden all of this time.

"What's his name?" he managed at last, unable to tear his eyes away from the small face.

"Jack," she said, the corner of her mouth turning up just slightly. "Jackson Scott."

o.O.o

Far from all the action out in the desert, Anita was scrubbing her teeth. Her stomach had felt all right before hand. In fact she'd felt perfectly fine until the moment she needed to throw up. "Eww…" she groaned, flushing the toilet again to get rid of the extra evidence.

The vomiting seemed to have helped though. Her stomach didn't feel so awful now. Actually she just felt hungry.

She was glad that it was Sunday, and that she wouldn't have to go to Roger's house. Especially if she was going to be caught completely off guard the next time she got sick. Instead Anita rummaged around her own house, tidying things up as she munching on crackers.

She was a bit put off that she seemed to be the only one in the house that was ill, but that was quickly dismissed. Luckily, Anita didn't feel the urge to vomit any more that day, and didn't think a thing of it. Throwing it off as a fluke.

The day passed quickly without any other incidents either, and soon it was night. Her dreams were unburdened, filled with happy things. Rainbows, smiles, and flowers.

It was all short lived. Her one time fluke came back with a vengeance. Anita called Gretchen and took the day off, today she felt absolutely miserable. Achy even. She tucked herself back into bed and slept the day away, but her dreams weren't so magical this time.