Chapter Nine
Lola
I slam the car door shut and kick the front tire in frustration. I should have known buying a used vehicle from a man nicknamed Sly Jimmy was not a sound financial decision. That’s what happens when you’re desperate for a way to get around.
While the skyline held a few remaining streaks of daylight during the walk to the parking garage, the only light remaining now is some spotty sections under the garage’s shoddy lighting system.
Why did I insist Cade go on to the next level? They were safe words at the time. Now I’ve got to walk my ass several blocks to the bus stop in the dark, and this is not a good part of town.
As memories of our conversation flood my brain, my heart beats like a stampede of horses has settled in my chest. Was he going to kiss me? He was, wasn’t he? So, why didn’t he?
Stop. I don’t want him to kiss me. I don’t want a guy who tells me what to do. Isn’t that what I’m trying to get away from?
I open the door and gather my gear out of the backseat and check the battery on my cell phone. Two of the three cells remain lit up. Excellent. 911 is programmed on speed-dial. Perfect. After retrieving my stun gun, I check the charge. Full.
I nod my head in satisfaction. A girl can’t be too prepared. I slam the door shut, click the lock, and walk through the parking garage. The clap of my heels on the cement echoes off the pavement, reminding me of a bad horror film.
With any luck, I’ll avoid meeting anyone on my way to the bus stop. What’s the likelihood I’ll be that lucky? You’re in a dark parking garage with a car that won’t start. How lucky do you think you are?
When I reach the ground level, the red glow of taillights from an idling vehicle is waiting at the exit. Is that Cade?It can’t be. It’s been over fifteen minutes since I sent him on his way.
I dig into my purse, pull the stun gun out, switch it to ‘On,’ and hold it down to my side. Should I go in the other direction? I shiver and gauge the distance between the opposite exit and contemplate the safety of leaving through the gloomy back alley. Shit. Those aren’t much better odds.
Someone sticks their head out of the pickup truck’s driver’s side window. “Lola, is that you?”
Cade. Thank God. At the sound of Cade’s voice, my racing heart sputters and slows down a couple of beats a minute. He waited for me. My stomach does a slow roll. He may say he doesn’t rescue people, but I believe he doth protest too much, and I’m giddy enough to like it. “Thank God you’re still here.”
He opens the door and steps out. “Where’s your car?”
“It’s dead. It needs a new alternator. I had it checked after I bought it, but I thought I could baby it along for a little longer. I hate to waste money if I don’t have to.” I switch off the stun gun and shove it in my bag.
His eyebrows arch. “I’m glad you didn’t decide to use that thing on me.”
“It’s dark. I might know martial arts, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
His gaze darts into the darkness of the garage. “Do you want me to check it out?”
I shake my head. “There’s no need to check out the car. The mechanic said once it quit, I’d need a new one.”
“The least I can do is give you a ride home.”
Ride. I’d like to ride something. I shiver. Stop being crass.
But how am I not supposed to think of sex if I’m stuck in a vehicle with him? My nipples tighten, and my breath hitches. Don’t think about sex. Don’t think about sex. Don’t. Think. About. Sex. Three times, and it might stick. “That’s too much to ask. Can you drop me off at the bus stop?”
Cade raises his arm, and his watch glows. “It’s almost nine o’clock. I think the buses stop at eight o’clock.”
I stifle a groan. “I can call a cab.”
“You’re not taking a cab.” Exasperation radiates off him. He marches to the passenger side and yanks open the door. “Get in. It can’t be far to your place.”
He’s holding the door open for me. Lord, don’t let me swoon. Who holds the door open for people anymore?
The man is a complete enigma. First, he was a prick. Now, he’s a gentleman and offering me a ride home. What gives? Surely, he has better things to do. Just because he said he wasn’t busy doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth. Crap. A flash of jealousy zips through me at the mere thought of him with another woman. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
I slide into the seat, and he slams the door shut, returning me to darkness. The scent of the new vehicle permeates the cab as I sink into the leather. He probably has a girlfriend or lives with someone. My stomach cramps. So, stop daydreaming about him.
He slips inside and shuts us inside together. “Where to?”
“It isn’t too far. When you get to the stoplight, turn to the right. Go about five blocks, and then merge to the left. It’s about eight blocks from there.”
Shit. My neighbors.I cringe. If he can look past the sofa on their front porch, their beastly dog will cause him to run for the hills. The mutt won’t stop barking. My place isn’t much better. It needs a new porch, and siding, and the shingles are curled and peeling. Well, the whole thing could be gutted and rebuilt, but it’s only a stopping point.
If I decide to remain with Truman Security long-term, I’ll purchase a home–one with lots of character and room. I might not be on the hunt for a husband right now, but in the future, I want a man who respects me, gives me mind-blowing orgasms, and, most importantly, puts up with my meddling family. Is that too much to ask for?
Yeah. It is. I’ve never had an orgasm, but that one is likely the easiest one to check off. Respect? Probably a little more difficult. But dealing with my family, that’s going to be a hard sell.
A country ballad spills from the speakers. He pokes the screen until a rock song fills the cab. We ride several blocks in silence as I watch the darkened houses out of the passenger side window while trying to ignore that this is the closest we’ve been since the elevator.
Each second strings me tighter until I feel like a bowstring that’s going to snap. I want to climb into his lap and kiss him again. Until we’re both breathless.
I rack my brain, trying to think of something to get my mind off his physical presence. “Are you from around here?”
“I grew up here in Kansas City.”
“Is your family still around?”
“No.” Cade’s tone is curt, and he doesn’t elaborate.
I’m the queen of pointless conversations. Surely, we can fill eight blocks with random words. “Did they move away?”
Cade’s hands clench on the steering wheel. “I don’t discuss my family.”
The sexual tension is gone, but it’s been replaced with a different kind of energy. Annoyance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I saw you talking with Rachel Truman the other night. How do you know her?”
I almost feel the whiplash from the change in topic, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Rachel and I went to school together before she moved here to Kansas City. We managed to stay in touch over the years. A few months ago, she was in New York for a convention and called me. We met up for a couple of days, and I showed her around. When I needed a place to stay and a job, I remembered Rachel saying her uncle had started a new company.”
See, I can make random conversations. Just a few more blocks. “When Truman and I first spoke, I was applying for a clerical position. However, the more we discussed some of my experiences and background, the more we both saw the possibility of going in a different direction.” I raise my hand and point. “Turn there.”
His gaze slides to me, and he clicks on the blinker. “You weren’t thinking about working in the security field when you applied?”
“Not really. I had some experience with computers and other investigative work but hadn’t considered using it as a career.” I point down the street. “That’s my place in the middle.”
“Why exactly are you living on this street? You do realize this neighborhood has one of the highest crime rates in the city, don’t you?”
“Sure, but it was the best I could find on short notice, and I wanted to be close to work.”
“You can’t keep living here. It’s too dangerous.” Cade’s hands flex. “Truman has safe houses throughout the city. Tomorrow, I can get you set up in one.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.” For a man who claims he minds his own business, he needs to practice what he preaches.
As he inches closer to my house, I notice a new Lexus parked in the driveway. Damn. Who is that? Is that one of my brothers? I wrinkle my nose. Whoever it is, they’ve managed to make my place look even more shabby.
“Who’s that? Do you recognize the person? If you don’t, I can run them off.”
I squint. Trenton. What is he doing here? I might not be familiar with the shiny new car, but I’d recognize the impeccably dressed Trenton Thompson III–anywhere. The streetlight shines down on him like he’s an archangel.
He’s wearing a tailor-made three-piece suit with his tie securely fastened at the nape of his neck and his arms crossed as he leans against the trunk of his car. Shit. Now, all my neighbors will think my attorney stopped by to get me out of an arrest.
Hey, that might not be the worst thing that could happen. It might give me a little street cred.
“Yes, I know him. Trenton’s harmless.” Not that I’m happy to see him camped out in my front yard. If he’s here, it won’t be long until my father or one of my brothers will follow in his tracks.
Cade places the pickup into park. “Trenton Thompson?”
“Yes.” I cock an eyebrow. “Do you know him?”
“No.” His jaw flexes as he glares out the windshield.
What’s got his ass in a snit? Never mind. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to get rid of my guest before he gets comfortable and tries to convince me to go back home. “Thank you for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. Do you need me to pick you up tomorrow?”
“No. I’ll take the bus.” I slide out and slam the door shut. If my father sent him, I’m going to snap.
When I reach Trenton’s side, Cade’s headlights flash over the front of my house as he backs up. “Have you been waiting long?”
Over the years, we’d been forced to interact because of our families’ business dealings, but we’ve grown close over the years. Too bad friendship wasn’t enough for our fathers. They wanted us to make a great love connection. Or, at the very least, they wanted us together whether we were living a happily ever after or not. Our marriage would solidify their financial connections.
“I pulled up a few minutes ago.”
“Good. What exactly are you doing here, and how did you find me?”
“Your father told me you’d moved to live with a friend and that she’d gotten you a job. When I arrived in town, I stopped by Rachel’s place. She said you wouldn’t stay with her.” He scans the neighborhood and cringes.
The boarded-up windows and assorted pieces of furniture and appliances scattered about porches and front yards are likely off-putting to his delicate sensibilities. It’s rustic chic. Ri-i-ight. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. There’s nothing chic about the place.
“Who was that?” Trenton motions to the taillights, fading into the night.
“One of my co-workers. He offered me a ride home. My car is out of commission right now.”
We walk up the steps and stand at my front door. After I locate my keys in my purse, I unlock the door and disengage the security system. The second I got my keys from my landlord, I’d purchased the best security system I could afford.
“That was nice of him.” Trenton arches his eyebrows. The streetlights make the angles of his face look harder than they are. “He’s a good-looking man. Are you two an item?”
As my hand freezes on the light switch, heat floods my face. Leave it off. The light will give everything away. He stumbles over the rug. Shit. I snap the light on. “No. We work together. My vehicle needs an alternator and won’t start tonight. He was the only one left, and the buses had stopped running.”
“You’re lucky he was there.”
“Yes, I was. Have a seat.” I motion to the tattered sofa, and his eyes widen like he expects it to swallow him up if he sits on it. “It’s not going to bite. I promise.” I move to the recliner opposite of him and drop into the well-worn cushions. It’s amazing what deals you can find at yard sales.
He lowers gingerly onto the sofa. “You never answered. Why do you live here and not with Rachel? At least her place was decent. What in the world could’ve been so bad you had to leave your dad’s place and move here of all places? A free place to stay, live-in help, any vehicle you could want to drive, and you gave it up. For what? This? It makes no sense.”
“You’ll never understand.” He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and has never wanted for anything. He was given a job at his father’s company and has never had to work a day in his life. All he must do is show up at some board meetings and collect a check. He even lives for free in a guest house on his parent’s property.
“Try me.”
“Living in a bubble is stifling. I needed to get out, get a job, and live on my own for a while. I couldn’t do anything without my father telling me when and where I could go. For God’s sake, Trent, he was going to force us to marry because your parents are scared that you’re going to go off and marry the hired help.”
“You know I would never have gone through with it, but it took the focus off me. If I realized you were going to do something this drastic, I would have tried harder to convince them it was a stupid idea.” He conveniently ignores my comment about the hired help.
“I know going with me to those events kept the focus off Lacey, but I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. I got in touch with Rachel, and she offered to help me get established here. I’m sorry I ignored your calls, but I was afraid you’d convince me not to leave.” I lean into the chair. “Or in this case, convince me to go back. This place isn’t that bad.”
“I don’t want to talk about her.” His eyes turn dark, and his nostrils flare. He can’t even say her name.
Trenton fell in love with the daughter of his parents’ maid. Lacey had resisted his advances for months, but he’d finally worn her down over a Christmas holiday. They’d kept their relationship secret and continued to see each other when he returned to college. Unfortunately, his father suspected something was going on, and a large settlement was written to get her family out of their lives. That was over a year ago, and he’s still livid about it.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” I cross my legs and my arms. Beating him over the head about Lacey isn’t my idea of a good time. Change the subject. Even if it’s switching to my father. “What did my father have to do to convince you to come to check me out?”
“Edward didn’t have to do anything. I was worried about you, and obviously, I have good reason to be.”
“Thanks for the concern, but I’m doing fine. I have a job, a place to stay, and a vehicle. Okay, the car isn’t exactly reliable, but I’ll be all set once I get the alternator replaced. I plan to go home in a couple of weeks for a visit. I know he’s mad right now, but he always wants me by his side for the annual charity event.”
I wasn’t planning to go back, but when I put my paperwork away before going to the parking garage, I’d looked inside the folder Cade had given me. According to the file, four individuals are suspected of stealing jewels and other valuables while charitable events are going on. I recognized one of the names–Randall Maitland. All the cases are in the East Coast area, making my father’s upcoming fundraiser a perfect opportunity to put out some feelers.
The year after my mother passed, my dad established The Marianne Sutherland Cancer Foundation to honor his late wife’s memory, and it’s been held each year since–attending the event is a perfect front for the investigation.
“How familiar are you with Randall Maitland?” Randall was a regular at several functions I’ve attended in the past, but we’ve never traveled in the same social circles. The most we’ve had was a passing conversation about the weather.
“I’ve met him a few times. He’s a charming man. Works in investments and rakes it in. The widows seem to gravitate toward him. He has a different woman on his arm at each event.” He shrugs. “I’ve never heard a bad word spoken about him, so they don’t appear to mind the revolving door. Apparently, he’s making them money, so no one cares.”
Why would he need money? Shit. Maybe it’s not him. Just because I recognized his name doesn’t mean he’s the culprit. “What’s his investment strategy?”
“I couldn’t say. He seems to focus mostly on the ladies. Why do you ask? Has he approached you?”
“No. I’ve only spoken with him on a few occasions.”
“I’m not sure you’re his type. He tends to be attracted to a more middle-aged clientele. Not that he doesn’t have other investors. I’ve seen him out with a few younger ladies. Do you remember Patricia Young?”
“Yes, her parents were killed in the car crash a few months ago, right?”
He nods. “Yes. That’s her. She was with him last month at a charity event up in Manhattan. I think our fathers discussed some business opportunities with him in the past, but I don’t think his family went far enough back to the Mayflower. You know how pompous they are.”
“Yes, I do,” I mutter. Stop spinning webs. This investigation probably has nothing to do with Randall. I can’t get laser-focused on one person and not keep my eyes and ears open during the gala. This is my golden opportunity to do something helpful with my life.