Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
I appeased my growling stomach by eating a few more of Wyatt’s fries—only because he swore that he wasn’t going to eat them all. I didn’t know if I really believed that, but the fries were delicious—perfectly salted and seasoned—and my stomach was ready to devour itself from the inside out.
“Should we go talk to the godmother now?” Wyatt asked when we left the pub a short while later.
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.
Wyatt pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. He slowed his pace. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry, Emersyn. I promised I’d meet up with my mom this afternoon.”
“No worries,” I assured him. “I’ll talk to Bitty and let you know how it goes.”
“Really?” he asked, stopping on the sidewalk. “You won’t ghost me again?”
I stopped too, so abruptly that a man in a suit had to dodge around me. He scowled, but I barely noticed.
“I didn’t ghost you,” I said to Wyatt. “I was just…busy.”
“Are you sure? It’s not because our kiss made you uncomfortable?”
“What? No! The kiss was great. I mean, not great, but…” I floundered.
“Incredible?” Wyatt suggested. “Mind-blowing?”
Yes, yes, yes! the candid part of me wanted to yell. My stomach flipped at the thought that he might believe those adjectives described our kiss.
Then I remembered how he’d kept his surname a secret from me. He still was, really. Hoffman had burned me so badly that trusting no longer came so easily to me. Secrets scared me, because I knew they could leave scars.
Since Wyatt had steered the conversation in a dangerous direction, I decided to do the mature thing and change the subject.
“I’ll talk to Bitty and text you if I learn anything.”
He searched my eyes with his own, as if trying to find the words I’d left unspoken. I hoped I kept them well hidden.
“All right,” he said finally.
I turned and walked off down the street. I could feel his eyes on me still, but I never looked back.
After a snack of crackers and peanut butter, I savored my last remaining can of apple Bubly—that one hundred percent did not make me think of Wyatt.
I enjoyed every last drop, knowing I wouldn’t be buying more until I had a real paying job.
I tossed the empty can into the recycling bin and then cut a chunk of cake and set it on a paper plate.
Livy and I had barely made a dent in the dessert, and we needed help to finish the rest. I took the big piece of cake, probably equal to four average slices, and delivered it to Mr. and Mrs. Nagy.
The gesture delighted them, and I was glad I’d thought of it. The elderly couple had been so good to me and Livy. It was nice to have a chance to return even just a little kindness.
After a short chat with the Nagys, I paid a visit to Bitty’s apartment on the ground floor.
When Bitty let me into her unit, I found Leona lounging on the couch with a martini in hand.
She wore a sparkly green dress and several necklaces, and rings adorned nearly all her fingers.
As usual, her garishly reddish-orange hair was styled into large curls.
She’d overdone the smoky-eye look, and her bright red lipstick had smeared at the corner of her mouth.
I wondered how many martinis she’d already consumed.
“Emersyn, darling,” Leona trilled before taking a long sip of her cocktail. “How delightful.”
“Can I get you a martini, dear?” Bitty offered, heading for the kitchen.
“No, thank you,” I said. “I won’t keep you long. I just came to ask about your godson.”
“Vincent?” Bitty retrieved her martini from the kitchen counter and joined us in the living area. “What do you want to know about him?”
“No offense to young Vincent,” Leona said, “but why would you be interested in him when you’ve already got two hunky hunks of burning love to play with?”
“Sorry?” Had she really said hunky hunks of burning love?
“Elvis was ‘a hunk, a hunk of burning love,’ not ‘a hunky hunk of burning love,’ ” Bitty corrected.
Leona flicked a hand. “Phht. He was both!”
Bitty conceded that point with a tip of her head to the side.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling like I’d suddenly landed on a different planet. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Actually, I did have a sneaking suspicion.
“No need to play coy,” Leona said as she tucked her feet up on the couch and took another sip of her martini. “The building’s all abuzz with the news of your steamy affairs with Wyatt the stud muffin and hot stuff Bodie.”
My suspicion was well-founded, but I was oh-so-wishing I’d never come to Bitty’s apartment.
I didn’t know if I should react first to Leona’s use of the phrase stud muffin or to the erroneous nature of the so-called news.
In the end, I went with the latter.
“There’s no steamy affair. With any guy.”
Leona brushed off my denial. “Oh, don’t worry, darling. I get it. You don’t want people to know you’re sleeping with your boss.”
“Boss?” Where did she get that idea? “Wyatt is definitely not my boss.”
“But the two of you are investigating Freddie’s murder,” Bitty said, making herself comfortable in one of two matching armchairs. She gestured for me to take the vacant one.
I remained standing. “Not in any official capacity. And, if anything, Wyatt works for me.”
Bitty appeared confused. “But then why is his name on the business card?” She picked up one of the offending cards from the coffee table and held it up for me to see.
“How did you get that?” I asked.
Bitty shrugged and dropped the card back on the coffee table before sipping from her martini glass. “Agnes gave it to me.”
I stifled a groan. Just how many cards had I dropped out on the front steps? Whatever the number, it was clearly too many.
Leona leaned toward me. “So, you’re having a little trouble in the love department?”
“What?” I sputtered. “No!”
She waved a bejeweled hand in the air. “It’s all right, dear. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is a starlet. I had to fend off gorgeous men in my youth. Still do.” She let out a tinkling laugh.
Bitty sat forward in her seat. “We can help you. Between us we must have over a century’s experience with men.”
Leona nodded. “I have so much experience.” She almost purred the words.
I fought off a shudder. “I really don’t need help with my love life.” I decided it was time to get the conversation back on track, but before I could speak again, Bitty beat me to it.
“You should really start with your appearance,” she said, appraising me from her seat. “I always look to my dear cousin Princess Diana for inspiration. Now, there’s a woman who never looked anything other than elegant.”
“No need to look beyond the grave for guidance when I’m right here,” Leona cut in, a sharp edge to her voice.
“Pearls.” Bitty stood up and set her drink on the coffee table, acting as if she hadn’t heard Leona. “A string of pearls always elevates an outfit and adds sophistication.”
“I don’t even own any pearls,” I said out loud, while on the inside I shouted, How did I get on this roller coaster, and how do I get off?
“Fortunately, I do.” Bitty made her way across the living area. “I’ve got the real deal and a set of fake ones. I can lend you the fake ones.” She disappeared into her bedroom before I could stop her.
I sank down into the nearest armchair, my head spinning.
Leona downed the last of her drink before fixing her glassy eyes on me. “Now, if you need some tips for the bedroom…”
I shot back to my feet. “No!” I lowered the volume of my voice a notch. “No, thank you.”
Bitty returned empty-handed and looking bewildered. “Oh dear,” she said, glancing around the apartment. “I can’t seem to find my pearls.”
“The fake ones or the real ones?” Leona asked.
“They’ve both gone missing.” Bitty’s hands fluttered. “Oh dear. And my doctor was telling me the other day that my mind is as sharp as a tack.” She let out a jittery little laugh. “Silly me. I must have misplaced them. Just like my brooch and my cameo necklace.”
A pang of sympathy kept me from fleeing the apartment. “When did you last see your pearls?”
She put a hand to her throat, as if reaching for one of the missing necklaces. “I wore the real ones to the cocktail party. The one Yolanda and Minnie held for Freddie.” Her face crumpled in confusion. “I could have sworn I put them back in my jewelry box.”
“I’m sure they’ll turn up,” I said in what I hoped was a comforting voice.
“Yes. Of course they will,” Bitty said, but she didn’t sound at all sure.
Leona lifted her friend’s martini up off the coffee table. “Darling, have a drink. It’ll help clear your mind.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but Bitty accepted the drink and downed a large gulp. Then she sank into the armchair in a rather wobbly fashion.
“Now, where were we?” Leona said. “The key to keeping a man coming back for more—”
“Vincent!” I practically shouted. “I came to ask about Vincent.” I directed my next words at Bitty. “Did he know Freddie?”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “I suppose he might have. After all, he visits me here quite often. He probably ran into Freddie from time to time.”
“But they weren’t friends?” I asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Business associates?” I suggested.
“I don’t see how they could have been,” Bitty said. “Freddie was a building superintendent. Vincent owns a store.”
I latched on to that last statement. “A store?”
“On East Fordham Road.”
“What kind of store?”
“He sells a little of everything.” Bitty emptied her glass with a gulp. “Now, who would like another martini?”
Leona waved her empty glass in the air, light glinting off the jewels on her fingers.
“I’d never turn down an offer like that.
” She fixed her eyes on me. “You know, Emersyn, back when I was on Passion City, I filmed many passionate love scenes. The steamiest one of all was when my character and her evil twin’s husband—who’d recently returned from the dead—encountered each other, quite by accident, while skinny-dipping in a hot spring beneath the full moon. The best part was when I wrapped—”
I made a break for it. “Thank you, ladies! Have a nice day!”
I fled from the unit, letting the door slam shut behind me.