Chapter 11
To Do:
- Update dog sitting binder- corn allergy!
- Figure out who’s stalking me
Mindy threwa suitcase into Claire’s arms.
Claire staggered and dropped the heavy case onto the warehouse floor. It had only been twenty-four hours since the hearing, but it felt like much longer.
“I’ll be watching Rosie while you’re gone,” Mindy said, hurling Claire’s purse onto the mahogany conference table and rooting through it. She withdrew four packs of gum, a baggie full of dog treats, a stack of multicolored sticky notes, and a Taser before finding a leash.
“Absolutely not. You don’t even know her bedtime song,” Claire protested.
Mindy looked up from the binder she was struggling to heave out of Claire’s bag.
Sweet dreams, little Rosie
A kiss for every toesie
Unicorns will greet you
In a magical canoe
Mindy took a breath to continue in her off-key voice, but Claire held up a hand to stop her. “Okay, fine, you know the song. But I can’t leave. Tyler’s proposal is next week. It’s crunch time.”
“And we already have everything ready for it. The decorations are going in on Wednesday, the firework technician is ready to go, the marching band has been practicing for two weeks. Tyler’s PT is going well. You need to escape for a few days. It’s just a long weekend, Claire,” Mindy said, plopping a heavy backpack down on top of the suitcase. “I packed all the essentials for you.”
“I am not leaving,” Claire said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What if the police need me?” She stomped up to the table and shoved the dog treats and sticky notes back into her bag. She sure as hell wasn’t leaving.
“Detective Smith is the one who suggested you go!” Mindy sighed. She grabbed one strap of Claire’s purse and pulled.
Claire grabbed onto the other one and tugged it toward her.
“Get out of town for a few days, let them sort this out,” Mindy said sternly. “Besides, fall proposal season is coming up. Farmer’s Almanac is predicting that the foliage is going to be more vibrant than it has been in years. Think of all the hiking and pumpkin-themed proposals, Claire. This may be the last chance you get to take a trip for months.”
Fall proposals! She loved fall proposals. The crisp chill in the air, the plaid, the pumpkins. It might only be June, but it was never too early to start planning some fall ideas. Maybe they could offer mini proposal packages? Still romantic and beautiful, but more cost-effective for clients and less time-consuming for the business. But that would take away from the impact of the uniquely tailored proposal for each person. And Happily Ever Afters was not about cookie cutter proposals.
Wait, what were they arguing about again?
Claire’s grip must have loosened on the strap, because Mindy heaved it away from her. Damn it.
“I’m not going to let some note-leaving creep run my life. I don’t need to take a trip. I need to be here for my clients.” Claire walked over to her massive whiteboard (which had recently been de-murdered after their Widowmaker investigation) and picked up a marker. She studied the color-coded To Do lists and crossed off “silence-breaking blog post.” She had posted a story from her backlog of proposals in anticipation of Pride Month, featuring a sweet couple who had met when Kelly took Jade’s pottery class. Jade had proposed to Kelly with a beautiful ceramic ring she had crafted herself.
Claire had had to turn comments off on her blog following the incident. Some were sympathetic, others cruelly questioned her judgment and professionalism. She had considered posting something about Barney and her experience, but the heinous crime didn’t have a place among the joyful and romantic posts on her blog. Frankly, he wasn’t worth the time it would take to write about him.
“We still need to set up a supervised date with Zayne and Alex. I’m still not fully convinced that she’s not sleeping with his brother,” Claire said.
Mindy slapped the marker out of her hand. “No more work. Stop being a child and sit your ass in that chair. Luke should be here any minute.”
Claire bristled. “Why the hell is Luke coming?”
“You didn’t seriously think I was going to send you to an undisclosed location alone, did you? You would have turned around immediately and come right back to work.”
Well, there went that plan.
“You’re killing me.” Claire collapsed into the chair at the head of the conference table. She didn’t want to go on a trip. She definitely didn’t want to go on a trip with the infuriatingly egotistical man who repeatedly lied to her.
What truths would she uncover on a weekend trip with Luke? Did he have a hoard of children with different mothers? Maybe some problems with recreational drugs? Sure, they were on slightly better terms after the break-in. But the more time she spent with Luke, the more she realized she didn’t really know him at all. And what was the deal with the secret brother?
“Where are we going?” she huffed.
“I understand you’re emotionally fragile right now,” Mindy said, “and some asshole is leaving notes under your pillow, but you’re being a bit of a bitch. Your smokin’ hot boyfriend is whisking you away to a romantic location for a long weekend. Suck. It. Up.” She jabbed Claire’s arm with freshly manicured fingers.
“Fine.” Claire pulled out her phone. “But it’s not Africa or the Caribbean, right? I may want to start a family within three-to-five years, and nobody knows how long Zika stays in your system.”
“There’s mosquito repellant in your luggage.”
“You thought of everything.”
“I always do.” Mindy, apparently satisfied that Claire was not going to barricade herself in the office, opened her laptop and sat down at the conference table. She kicked her kitten heels off, dropping them to the floor as she sat cross-legged in her chair.
Claire ran a hand over the cover of Tyler’s proposal binder. “Tyler and Ericka are good together, right?”
Mindy lifted her eyes from the screen. “Of course they are. Remember that Skype date we recorded? She adores him.”
“And Tyler. You think his feelings are genuine?”
Mindy snapped her laptop shut and placed her hands on either side of her, leaning forward to stare at Claire. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Doubt yourself. Do not give Barney that control.”
Claire’s voice wavered. “Mindy, I helped a serial killer propose to his girlfriend.”
Her friend’s expression softened. “He had everyone fooled, even his fiancée. She lived with him and had no idea.”
Sure, that much was true. Barney was an elite-level con man. But how could Claire have spent hours just steps away from a serial killer and never felt even a hint of danger? Her inability to recognize evil had cost them dearly. They had upgraded their client screening process to include criminal background checks, which were not cheap.
She gripped the back of a chair. “Our whole brand revolves around our success rate. And he absolutely destroyed it. I’m obviously not as good at reading people as I thought. All our clients are probably destined for divorce. I obviously have no idea how to have a functional relationship if my fiancé left me for my archnemesis and my boyfriend withholds every detail of his life from me.”
Mindy whipped a spray bottle out of Rosie’s overnight bag and blasted Claire in the face with a stream of water.
“Stop it,” she ordered as Claire sputtered and wiped at her face. “You are a wonderful human being, a great boss, and smart as hell. You are wound so tightly right now that I am slightly concerned about a complete mental breakdown, and I really think you need to get laid, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the best.”
Claire smiled, but she didn’t feel it inside. She was putting all her energy into a losing battle. “Thank you for saying that. Strangely enough, I feel almost comfortable leaving you in control.” She reached across the lacquered surface of the table and squeezed Mindy’s hand.
Mindy raised her eyebrows and drew her dark braid over her shoulder. “After three years, you should be.”
“We are a pretty kick-ass team,” Claire mused aloud. She squared her shoulders and tried to push the lingering feeling of doubt out of her mind. Tyler wasn’t a murderer.
She jumped when the side door by the end of the industrial shelving flew open. She reached for her Taser, but it was on the other side of the conference table. Damn it, Mindy.
Luke sauntered in, leather jacket tossed over one shoulder. Every part of him appeared to be casual, but even Claire’s extremely nearsighted sister Charlie could have picked up on the stress in his shoulders and the way his eyes continuously darted around the room, probing corners and shadows. Why did he insist on opening doors in such a dramatic fashion?
“You ready?” He picked up Claire’s suitcase and dropped it almost immediately. “What the hell is in here?”
“Mindy packed it. It’s probably full of vodka and romance novels,” Claire said.
“She’s not wrong,” Mindy said as she typed furiously on her laptop.
“You’ll remember to sing her the song?” Claire asked Mindy as she turned to her dog. She dropped to her knees in the middle of the warehouse floor and opened her arms.
“Of course,” Mindy commented as a fawn-colored rocket sprinted toward Claire and into her arms, nearly knocking her over. Claire’s black outfit was now covered with a cloud of ginger fur, but it was worth it.
“Maybe she can come with us.” Claire buried her face in Rosie’s wiggling body. How could she go three days without seeing Rosie? What if something happened to her?
“Put the dog down, Claire,” Mindy instructed, picking up the spray bottle again and shaking it. Rosie backed away, ears drawn back.
“Dogs come on airplanes all the time,” Claire said, reaching for her retreating dog.
“Rosie hates flying. They’ll put her in a crate all by herself under the plane,” Mindy said tactfully.
Claire straightened up. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“Come on. We’ll miss our flight.” Luke gripped Claire’s elbow.
Claire stood and began rifling through her purse. “No. I could get her registered as an emotional support animal. What’ll that take, ten minutes at the courthouse? I’ll just call my doctor real quick and?—”
Suddenly, the world was upside down. Claire dangled over Luke’s shoulder like a rag doll.
“Help with the bags, Min?” Luke said nonchalantly, carrying Claire to the side door.
Rosie barked and jumped at Luke’s legs, and Claire stretched out a hand.
“Roro, who wants a treat?” Mindy crinkled a treat bag.
Rosie about-faced in a millisecond and sprinted to the conference table. Mindy handed her a small bone, and Rosie retreated to her dog bed in the corner, crunching noisily.
“Traitor!” Claire called out as Luke pushed open the door. It snapped shut behind them.
“We can’t go,” Claire said, still upside down. “Those flower beds are atrocious. Someone needs to weed them.”
“The weeds will be here when we get back.”
“What if the press starts an exposé on the business and airs footage of the flower beds?”
Luke set her down by the passenger door without comment. Claire crossed her arms and frowned at him, but he ignored her and opened the trunk for Mindy, who was struggling out with Claire’s bags. The morning sun was creeping up in the sky even as heavy clouds rolled in.
“I want a picture every hour,” Claire said as Luke hefted the suitcase into the car.
Mindy wrapped Claire in one of her signature suffocating hugs. “I’ll send two. Don’t worry about a thing, okay? I know that’s impossible for you, but try. Everything will be fine.”
“And you’ll be safe?” Claire almost whispered.
“Always,” Mindy said, smiling soothingly at her.
“Love you,” Claire said as she opened her car door and got in.
“Love you more.” Mindy slammed the door.
Claire instinctively reached into the back seat to buckle Rosie into her seatbelt. But Rosie wasn’t coming. A pang of regret hit. She had rarely spent more than a night away from Rosie since she had rescued her after her breakup with Jason.
The car lurched into reverse, startling her from her reverie. Now she was going on a trip to an undisclosed location with someone she was barely speaking to. Awesome.
Rain pummeled the windshield as they drove. The car jerked when they splashed into one of West Haven’s famous potholes. Luke’s stormy eyes flashed to the rearview mirror every couple of seconds.
“So,” Claire said as they began to leave the city behind. “What did your mother have to say for herself? You said she texted this morning as I was leaving.”
He had miraculously remained unconscious while she was on her midnight jaunt through the woods. She even had time to clean the marinara stains off the wall and door before crawling back into bed.
Luke’s grip tightened on the wheel. “She said she was just doing her job.”
“Ah, yes. When I’m doing my job, I, too, like to accuse my family’s significant others of being lying, violent alcoholics. She knew who I was.” Claire shook her head.
“Let’s not talk about my mother. We’re not really on speaking terms right now,” he said as he laid a hand on Claire’s thigh.
She was still angry—about so, so many things—but his touch sent a tingle up her spine. She pulled out her phone and opened her calendar.
“You better not be doing work.” He swatted at her phone. “Mindy made me promise I wouldn’t allow it.”
“Just emailing Charlie an updated copy of my last will and testament,” Claire said, attaching a PDF to her email to her sister. “I do it before every flight, so you can save your judgmental looks.”
“How’s life in the PR world?” Luke asked.
“Very scandalous. One of her clients impregnated his maid and then tried to convince his wife to formally adopt the baby.”
He whistled. “Sounds almost as stressful as planning proposals.”
She hit him on the arm. “If you would tell me where we were going, I could stress about that instead.” Though truthfully, anywhere was better than her twice-broken-into apartment. At least her getting on a plane would be inconvenient for whatever creep was stalking her.
“Trust me, you’ll love it. The food, the culture, the people—well, maybe not the people. They don’t love tourists. But the food and the culture for sure. We used to vacation there in the spring sometimes when I was a kid.”
“Okay, fine. I’m relinquishing control and preparing to be dazzled.” She leaned back into the beige leather of Luke’s sedan.
The rain tapered off as they pulled into the airport and parked the car. Claire locked the doors and ignored the handful of people in the lot as she hip-thrusted and disco-pointed across two parking spots. It was better to be humiliated in public than to have a panic attack over the Atlantic because of an unlocked car.
Luke shook his head, but he didn’t say anything. They boarded a shuttle to the terminal, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Claire breathed in his woodsy smell and closed her eyes. In her mind, she conjured a large cardboard box—a solid one, like the boxes from the book fairs of her youth—and consciously deposited all of her worries about her clients and her safety into it. She taped that bitch shut and shoved it into a corner of her mind. When she opened her eyes, Luke was smiling at her. She was still totally mad at him. But they were going on an adventure.
They arrived at the terminal and began the tedious process of catching a flight. Once their luggage was successfully tagged, they joined a surprisingly short security line.
“Miss,” a TSA agent interrupted, “please step forward.”
Claire submitted herself to the general humiliation of the TSA screening.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Do you have some electronic devices in your carry-on?”
Claire froze. She had done a cursory glance through the bag and had only seen her favorite book, a change of clothes, and some miscellaneous toiletries.
“I don’t think so. My assistant packed my luggage for me, though, so maybe I missed something.”
“Your luggage was buzzing as it came through the X-ray machine,” the TSA agent said loudly as she slapped on a pair of latex gloves and began unzipping pockets.
Claire blushed, instantly mortified. “Oh, my goodness. I can’t imagine why it would be buzzing. I’m so sorry,” she said, taking a respectful step back. Luke’s eyes burned into her. “Please take all the time you need.”
“I intend to,” the worker said. Her nametag read Dinkle, and she was built like a tank—short legs, wide hips, and arms that looked like they could crush someone. She shined a flashlight through the contents of the backpack and unfolded Claire’s clothes, dropping her spare underwear onto the dirty airport floor.
This is how I die. Dead from embarrassment in the airport security line. Wendy will win Planner of the Year after all. Or maybe they could award it to Claire posthumously?
“Aha!” Agent Dinkle said triumphantly. “What the hell is this?”
A hot pink cylinder in a Ziplock bag buzzed noisily in her hand, and she stared pointedly at Claire.
Oh my god, I am going to kill Mindy.
“A vibrator,” Claire mumbled. A crowd of people still struggling to put on their shoes stopped to stare.
Luke stepped forward and blocked their view. “We’re going to Paris,” he explained.
“What? Paris?” Claire shouted. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she said, jumping around and holding onto Luke’s arm. “I’ve wanted to go since I was a little girl.”
“I know, your bathroom is covered in French art.”
“The croissants! The patisseries! Oh my god, can we see the Eiffel Tower?”
Agent Dinkle sighed deeply, clearly irritated at Claire’s joy. “Ma’am, I need you to open this and take out the batteries.”
Claire took the bag and opened it clumsily, only half paying attention and peppering Luke with questions as she twisted the cylinder.
“Where are we staying? Left bank? Right bank? Where will we have dinner? Can we see the Champs-élysées? Nicole is going to be so jealous,” she continued as the screw top finally popped off. The batteries sprang out of the vibrator and escaped from the lip of the bag. They rolled across the floor.
“Gerald! Watch out, there are some vibrator batteries on the floor behind you,” Agent Dinkle called to her teammate.
At this point, everyone in line had turned to watch, barely concealing their laughter.
“Huh?” A lumbering man turned around from his conveyor belt and stepped right on one of the free-rolling batteries. His foot slid out from under him, and he went crashing to the floor, sending a bag of Cheerios and a sippy cup flying out of the bag he was checking. The cereal exploded onto the floor, scattering across airport security.
Claire gasped and tried to run over to help, but Luke grabbed her arm.
“Stay here. As much fun as it would be to see you in handcuffs, they will tackle and arrest you.”
“Oh, god. I’m so sorry, sir!” she called after the man who was now lying prone on his back and probably questioning his career.
Gerald snorted like an angry bull as he rolled himself from his back to his front and then clambered up.
“Ma’am, I’m going to ask you to keep control of your belongings before you seriously injure someone,” he said, plodding over and handing her the remaining battery.
“I’m sorry. We’re going to Paris,” she explained. She was too excited to worry about some grumpy TSA agents.
Gerald rolled his eyes and turned away from them, walking back toward his line. Halfway there, he slipped on a stray Cheerio and crashed into the conveyor belt.
“Okay, time to go.” Luke stuffed the now-silent cylinder and batteries into her backpack. He grabbed Claire by the arm and dragged her away from security.
Several people behind them applauded. The mother who had lost the Cheerios glared. Claire turned toward them and thrust her shoes, which were still in her hands, dramatically into the air.
“We’re going to Paris!”