Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
To Do:
- Laminate douchebag plan
- Check extended forecast
- Google Food Truck Central
“Get down,” Claire hissed. “We don’t want him to see us.”
In light of the threats against Claire’s family, she and Mindy had decided to follow through with their plan to stalk Brad. They couldn’t be too careful. Barney had become her client to get closer to her. What if Brad had done the same thing?
Mindy slouched in the driver’s seat. The platinum blond wig she wore was slightly askew, but surely Brad wouldn’t notice from across the parking lot. She started the ignition.
Brad stared at his phone as he unlocked his fire-red Lamborghini and climbed in without hesitation. He didn’t duck under his car to check for pointy objects that would puncture his tires. He didn’t cast a cursory glance in the back seat. There could have been ten homicidal clowns stacked on top of each other back there and he didn’t even bat an eye. Typical man.
“Do we know where his gym is?” Claire asked.
Mindy shook her head. “We’ll have to hope we don’t lose him.”
“In Los Angeles. During rush hour. On a Monday.”
Mindy huffed. “I tried. The secretary wouldn’t tell me anything. How’s your mom? And Bri?”
“Mom told me she’s fine and if I didn’t stop texting her she’s going to mute me for two days. The guy from her garden’s still not talking. And Bri is shooting again this week. The studio’s assigning her extra security.”
Brad’s Lambo purred to life, and he slid smoothly out of his parking spot. Mindy followed, leaving a few car lengths between them.
“So it’s okay for Alice to harass you fifty times a day about your personal safety habits, but when the shoe’s on the other foot she loses her mind.”
Claire nodded darkly. “Like I don’t have enough to panic about. Now I have to worry ESA will send someone slightly more capable after her and she’ll be too stubborn to tell me about it.”
“You should hire a PI.” Mindy followed Brad as he took a right out of the studio lot.
“I should.” Claire slapped the dashboard. She pulled out her phone and almost searched for private investigators in Miami but stopped. “But I can’t really afford it right now. Not with the rescue and the loan repayment schedule. Everything’s tied up until after Brad’s proposal.”
“Are you sure saving the rescue needs to be your sole responsibility?” Mindy glanced at her as they paused at a red light. “You’ve done a lot for them already. You got all of the animals adopted and gave them another six months to stay afloat.”
“That was the alcohol,” Claire said, waving one hand. “If you put a bunch of drunk people in a room with adorable animals, they’re going to be adopted. It’s basic science. Besides, the rescue’s taken in three more dogs just since we’ve been in LA. It’s never empty for long. But I’m going to have a chat with them when we get back. I don’t know if they’ll go for it, but I think they should open up a doggy daycare. That would bring a steady stream of income in and take some of the pressure off. I might have already put together a rough business plan for them.”
Mindy nodded. “Um, that’s genius. Where did you find the time to do that?”
“I didn’t sleep much this weekend,” Claire said carefully. The four cups of coffee coursing through her veins were all that were keeping her going. Sleepwalking in LA was not something she could risk right now.
“Color me shocked. I admire your philanthropic spirit. So now that things are pretty much all nailed down for Brad’s proposal, can we talk about the interviews we lined up?”
“Sure.” Claire’s insides twisted. The thought of adding another team member was about as appetizing as the vegan meatballs she had had for lunch. But it was all part of the plan. Maybe they would find someone incredible.
She pulled up an email on her phone. Another bold-print item on her To Do list. “The federal background checks came back today on all four interviewees. Everyone’s clean. Well, one had a public urination charge, but it was on her twenty-first birthday.”
“That doesn’t count,” Mindy said.
“Exactly.” She brought up Mindy’s PowerPoint again and flipped through to their four chosen candidates. Heather Clearwater, a Pennsylvania girl turned California girl. She seemed promising, and she had even included a video cover sheet. Ashley Dresham and her five years of event coordinating experience for recording studios also intrigued her.
“Are you concerned about Ashley’s image?” Mindy asked, glancing at the phone in Claire’s hand. In all the pictures they tracked down on social media, Ashley had committed strongly to a goth aesthetic.
“Not really. The dark and broody vibe is totally working for her. And just because she dresses differently than we do doesn’t mean she’s any less professional or committed to true love. Don’t judge a book by its cover and all that.”
Mindy nodded. “Oh, he’s turning! Wow, he really is going to a gym.”
Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god he wasn’t pulling into a motel to be whipped by his mistress or leading a meeting full of misogynists. Unless the mistress worked at the gym. Hmm.
“I’m following him in.” Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and waited with her hand on the door. Brad emerged from his Lamborghini, talking on his phone. He was completely unaware. Did he even lock his car door? Anyone with a phone could Google how to hot-wire his car and snatch it before he ever noticed.
While Mindy locked the car, Claire moonwalked twice before hustling to the entrance of the gym. She wouldn’t make the same mistake as Brad. Not that anyone would want to steal a twenty-year-old Porsche when there was a red Lamborghini and a dozen other exotic cars parked outside this upscale gym.
“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl at the check-in desk swept her cornrows over one shoulder and flashed a blindingly white smile. A romance book with a tattered cover was splayed page-down on her desk.
“Hi, uh, two day passes, please,” Claire said.
“Sure thing. It’s sixty per person,” the girl said. “Cash or credit?”
Oof. Her bank account couldn’t handle much more of this West Coast price gouging.
“Think we can expense this?” Claire wondered as she handed over her credit card.
“We might as well actually work out while we’re here,” Mindy whispered back to her. “Oh, he’s headed into the locker room.”
They took their passes and dillydallied in the hallways outside the changing rooms, pretending to stretch against the wall. Minutes later, instead of the classic middle-aged-man workout combo of too-short shorts, New Balance sneakers, and a shirt from an obscure 5K that happened at least a decade ago, Brad walked out clad in suit pants and a button-down shirt.
Claire exchanged a glance with Mindy. Why would Brad wear a button down to work out in the gym? Was he meeting a mistress? Wordlessly, they followed him down the hallway. They passed several doors on either side, occasionally marked by words like “trapeze” or “death metal yoga.”
Brad ducked into an unmarked one and closed the door behind him.
“What do we do?” Mindy hissed.
“Listen, I guess?” Claire craned her neck. “I don’t see any vents we can crawl in.”
Mindy ducked low and pressed her ear to the crack. Claire leaned over her and listened hard against the door.
“Welcome, Brad. Are you ready to begin?” a sultry female voice cooed. What fresh hell was this?
“Yes, Topaz. It’s good to see you again.”
“Very well. Touch me, Brad. Here,” the voice commanded. “Closer.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open. Was this gym a front for a brothel? Her stomach dropped into her butt. She truly thought Brad had been the real deal. Sure, he was annoying and he changed his mind sixteen times a day. But she had been utterly convinced of his love for Karen. He glowed when he talked about her.
What were they doing now? Was that a passionate murmur? She leaned even harder into the door. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe?—
“Oh, hang on, I forgot my speakers,” the female voice said. There were two footsteps that sounded like high heels ringing on tile. Suddenly, the door moved.
“Oh shi?—”
Claire and Mindy pitched forward and tumbled straight into the room. Mindy’s elbow crashed into her ribs as Claire rolled to avoid the legs of the mysterious woman.
“Claire? Mindy?” Shit. That was Brad’s voice, and he didn’t sound pleased to see them.
Something itchy was on Claire’s hand. She glanced down. The ginger wig must have slipped off when she catapulted into the room.
“Oh, hey, Brad. What are you doing here?” Mindy called from the floor. Her neck was on Claire’s ankle.
“I’m taking dancing lessons to surprise Karen,” Brad said. “What are you doing here?”
He sounded pissed.
“We were—uh—” Mindy stammered.
“Spying on you,” Claire confessed. “To make sure you weren’t a cheater or a crime lord or a serial killer.” Brad was a reasonable man. Honesty was the best policy. Surely he would understand.
“I’ll leave you to chat,” Topaz said. She sashayed out of the room in a sparkly gold cocktail dress. She must have been at least sixty.
Brad went red from the center of his bulbous nose to the tips of his sticky-out ears. “Never once in all my years has someone I’ve hired treated me with this level of distrust.”
Well, shit. This was not going as expected. She should have lied and told him she was there to do hot yoga. In a wig.
“Brad, I’m so sorry.” She pulled her foot out from under Mindy’s neck and stood. Her elbow stung. “You have to understand, what I went through with Barney has really impacted my ability to trust people. I just had to be sure that you were a good guy.”
“Did I give you any reason to believe that I’m not a good guy?” He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Power emanated from him. In this moment, it was easy to see what a force of nature he must be in a conference room.
“No, not at all,” she said with her hands held out. “But I’ve thought that before and almost lost my life. I didn’t mean to offend you. For the sake of the business and for me as a human being, I can’t lead another woman into the arms of a murderer. That day is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. You understand, don’t you?”
“I don’t, Claire. Luke knows me. You trust him. He trusts me. Why is that not enough for you? Why do you have to sneak around and spy on me? Is this how you treat people? You know, other planners reached out to me, but I said no. I wanted a Claire Hartley original.”
“I’m so sorry, I?—”
Brad lifted one hand, and Claire clammed up.
“I need to think,” he said. “I don’t know if I can work with someone who treats their clients like they’re guilty. You work for me, remember? For now, anyway.” He sighed and turned away from them, ran a hand through what hair he had left. A second later he turned back, looking slightly more composed. “Come to the office tomorrow morning. We’ll discuss if I’m still using your services then.”
Claire bit her lip. Fuckity fuck fuck. She had finally done it. She had let her paranoia and obsession with safety destroy a relationship with a client.
“We understand,” Mindy said, gripping Claire’s arm and steering her out of the room.
The fluorescent lights in the hallway wobbled through the tears that stung Claire’s eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in this stupid overpriced gym where people paid a small fortune to throw tires around. Not because of some guy named Brad .
They stepped out into the early evening—perfect weather, of course. Reality hurtled out of the sky like a meteor. She had just paid $120 to destroy her relationship with a client.
“I screwed up, Min.” She stared at a scatter of cotton candy clouds and blinked her tears away.
Mindy patted Claire on the back. “We both screwed up. I thought we were doing Karen a favor. How can you know two people are really in love unless you know they’re not two-faced, lying, cheating assholes? It’s part of our process. Why is he so upset about it if he doesn’t have something to hide?”
Claire’s breath hitched. After an incredibly long Sunday, everything had finally been perfect. Every vendor confirmed, every piece of décor acquired. It was the longest, most frustrating proposal she had ever arranged. It was going to be stunning, the shining jewel on the crown of her career. And now it might be gone forever.
“Not everyone’s a bad guy, Min. I don’t know when I started feeling like that. I didn’t stalk Tyler to make sure he wasn’t pretending to have mobility issues. I didn’t follow Aaron home to make sure there weren’t dead bodies hung on meat hooks next to Jane’s paintings in their storage shed. And Brad’s right. Luke trusts him. Why don’t I trust him?”
“It’s okay. We can find another client.”
She whirled around. “Another client? This was supposed to be our inaugural West Coast proposal. Everything is hanging on this. If Brad doesn’t keep us on, the shelter is screwed. The business is screwed. We’re screwed. The amount of money lost in deposits alone?—”
Her vision was going dark. She kicked the tire of Luke’s car, then groaned and got on her knees. After a few deep breaths, her vision stopped swimming. Nothing sharp behind the tires. She stood and peered into the back seat. Rinse, repeat.
“And we have nothing to fall back on because ESA burned our fricken warehouse down. It’s going to take months to replace everything, and we’ll have to outsource everything—linens, décor, greenery, sound equipment, lighting—and it’ll be so much more expensive.”
She sat on the ground and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve ruined everything. I pissed off the wrong person and my car was blown up. My mother was almost abducted. An international mob of hitmen are trying to kill me. All because I friend-zoned Barney almost a decade ago and my deadbeat biological father was tasked with taking them down. Now Brad will write something awful on Yelp, we’ll lose all our clients, we won’t be able to pay the loan back, we’ll go bankrupt, and Luke will leave me and I’ll have to move back in with you. Oh, and let’s not forget I’ll be sending a bunch of innocent dogs to their death.”
“Claire,” Mindy said calmly. She put a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Just breathe, okay? Even if Brad does fire us, it’s not the end of the world. Actually, if he does fire us, I’m going to burn his office down. If he can’t understand why you take extra steps to make sure your clients are good people, he’s not the kind of client we want anyway.”
“Right.” She wrenched the car door so hard that it squealed. “I won’t say ‘fuck that guy’ just yet because he has a point, but if he fires us, I will unleash holy hell on this town.”
“And I’ll be right there with you.” Mindy turned the car on and shifted into gear. “We won’t be allowed back here ever again.”
“Stupid LA with your stupid kale and your stupid avocados . There’s more to life than vegetables and TikTok!” Claire shouted out the window at a group of AirPod-wearing hooligans with beanies and slumped shoulders.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it. Five texts and two missed calls from Luke.
“Oh, shit.” She bit her lip and lifted the phone to her ear. It rang.
“What?” Mindy glanced over at her as they pulled out of the gym parking lot.
“I forgot Luke was making dinner. And now he’s not answering.” Claire typed out a hasty apology text and tucked the device back in her purse. It was almost seven, and Luke had specifically told her dinner was at six. He was not going to be happy.