Chapter 13 #2
The dance couldn’t be over quick enough for him, and he couldn’t wait for David to get his hands off what wasn’t his. Alex walked up to them, tapping his wrist.
“I have to enforce curfew,” he said. “I could only push your night detail back two hours. It’s almost ten.”
David leered at Alex. “Is this guy for real?”
Scarlet cleared her throat. “It’s only nine thirty.”
Alex turned to David. “Can you excuse us?”
David made a face as Alex took Scarlet by the arm and steered her off the dance floor.
She turned to him, frowning. “That was kind of embarrassing.”
“What are you doing?” Alex let go of her arm.
Scarlet crossed her arms in front of her. “Dancing.”
“I wasn’t supposed to bring you here,” Alex said. “Edward?—”
“Isn’t my dad,” Scarlet pointed out. “I’m twenty-five, not fifteen.”
Alex didn’t feel like arguing with her. He wasn’t sure if he was being unreasonable or if he was actually trying to get his job done. The push-and-pull sensations were making him dizzy.
He sighed. “Miss Rush, you’re making my job more difficult.”
Scarlet’s frowned deepened as she bit her lip, looking back at the dance floor. “I just wanted to feel normal,” she said.
“And I understand that,” Alex responded. “But you’re doing it at the expense of my job. Maybe we can come back on a night when I didn’t lie to get you out of your prima duties.”
Scarlet’s lips twisted into a grin. “You did lie for me.” She reached out and nudged him. “You kinda like me.”
“I don’t mind you.” Alex smiled back.
Lies, he thought. It was almost too easy for him to downplay his feelings.
It was easy to tell himself he didn’t just interject himself into situation to get Scarlet away from David.
He did it because he wanted to dance with Scarlet.
He wanted to be the one who had his hands up her skirt.
No one was around to judge him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how he felt.
“I’d like to take you home,” he said.
Scarlet nodded. “Okay, we can go.”
Alex took his time making sure Scarlet’s home was secure.
Without all the noise and distraction, he couldn’t stop himself from noting they were alone.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be thinking dirty thoughts.
He made the choice, and would have to deal with the backlash. Scarlet was like a drug, and he was powerless to fight the addiction. He’d do anything for her, even if she had no clue.
She stood in a nearby doorway, dressed in her pajamas, watching him do his routine check.
“Pretty sure I’m safe for the night.” She chuckled. “Not that I don’t love your thoroughness.”
He smiled at her before stepping into the bathroom to check the windows. Alex cursed his decision-making. Lance would be all over him for his actions—and Lance would find out, whether Alex told him or not. He had a sixth sense where Alex was concerned.
Maybe I should call him. He’d tell me to get in my car and leave.
Alex was surprised Lance hadn’t called yet, since Alex told the home patrol to show up late.
Scarlet interrupted his thoughts. “So…”
Alex glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten, and Uly would be outside at his post. He didn’t want to deal with the new guy asking questions.
“I should probably get going,” Alex said.
Scarlet kept her bright eyes trained on him. “You don’t have to.”
There was an insinuation in her voice that made Alex pause. He turned his head, focusing on the bay window at the end of the hall.
Don’t even think about it, he commanded himself.
Scarlet moved closer. “We could watch a movie.”
His thoughts lingered on watching her body move at the club. How she smiled at him and lifted her skirt. Nothing changed. His brain wasn’t cooperating. If he stayed, he’d kiss her. If she kissed him back…
The tension broke by the beeping of Alex’s cell phone.
He exhaled, hoping Scarlet didn’t notice he was holding his breath. His palms were sweaty as he fumbled for his phone.
Lance.
“I have to take this.” Alex quickly stepped to the side.
Scarlet walked down the hall into the living room to give him privacy.
“Hello?”
“Why did you push Uly’s home patrol back two hours if your client’s sick?” Lance asked.
Alex took a few more steps toward the open door to his left. “I… thought I should sit with her to make sure she’s okay.”
“Oh, I see,” Lance spat. “You think I’m stupid. This is the ‘Alex thinks Lance was born yesterday’ hour.”
Alex’s irritation spiked. “What’s your problem?”
“Where are you now?” Lance pressed sternly.
“None of your business.”
The words repeated in his head, so close to Scarlet’s own complaint earlier. Like both of them were teenagers partying without permission, trying to avoid getting caught.
He didn’t expect Lance to sound so angry. He was usually laid-back. It threw Alex, making his defenses flare.
“She’s not sick,” Lance said. “You two were all cutesy in the corner at the party. You left with her when you weren’t supposed to. Then what?”
Alex frowned into the phone. “She wanted to catch up with friends,” he explained. “Now she’s home. It’s fine.”
“You’re nuts,” Lance said. “Explain to me how this works out well.”
Alex slipped into the room closest to him. “I’m not … doing anything,” Alex said quietly.
“You’ve been spacing out lately. First you lose the Brooks contract, now this,” Lance said. “I’m telling you?—”
Alex’s anger pushed forward. He took a deep breath before responding.
“Lance, it’s a job,” Alex said, more to convince himself. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t believe you. You need to back off.”
The words made Alex pause. He didn’t want to fight with his friend, who was obviously upset about something deeper than Alex appeasing their client’s need for rebellion.
“Why?” Alex inquired.
“A reporter’s been snooping around North Pointe.” Lance sighed. “I’ve confronted him twice, already. Slick little bastard named Barry.”
“So, you’ve blocked him,” Alex said. “What’s the big deal?”
Reporters had been trying to get their noses into the building since the incident. It wasn’t anything new.
“Well, I didn’t think much of it,” Lance went on. “But he showed up at our offices, today. He was asking questions about you. I told him to piss off.”
“Me? What the hell would he want with me?” Alex asked.
“To get a story,” Lance stressed. “I hate to remind you, but you’re a story, Alex.”
Coldness seized Alex’s spine as he gripped his phone tighter.
“And it won’t take him long to investigate your past, connect you to Mikael Rush and put everything together. Sure, maybe nothing’s going on, but a reporter won’t spin it that way. Media would blow this shit out of proportion for their goddamn clicks.”
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat. Shit.
“You can’t get goddamn involved without telling Scarlet who you are,” his friend said.
“I’m not—” Alex stopped mid-sentence. Was he getting involved? The lines blurred from just thoughts to actions. Maybe he was purposefully getting too close.
“I’m really not trying to tell you how to live your life,” Lance went on. “God knows I want you to find someone who makes you happy. But I don’t know if it should be Mikael’s daughter. Back off now before that woman gets hurt. Before you get hurt.”
As much as Alex wanted to argue with Lance, he couldn’t. Lance always looked out for him. Alex was letting his guard down, inexplicably, and irrationally.
Get it together.
If a reporter wanted to dig deep enough, he’d get enough of a story to put North Pointe in the wrong kind of spotlight.
“Okay,” he conceded. “I’ll watch it.”
“Good,” Lance said. “I’m only looking out.”
“I know you are. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Alex ended the call, unsure of what to do next.
He looked around and realized he’d stepped into Scarlet’s room.
He didn’t pay much attention to the decor during his casings, but now he noted the personal belongings lying about.
Scarlet’s familiar bag lay on the bed, her closet was open, and there were ballet pointe shoes hanging over the top of the door.
Some pairs looked new while others were too tattered to be worn.