Dial A for Addison Page 15

  “Well, at least the dress is red, right?” she said, visibly forcing down the corners of her mouth.

  All I had close to me was the tampon box I was holding so I chucked it at my best friend. Little paper tubes flew around the room as she ducked.

  “If you don’t want to miss, next time throw pads... they have wings,” she quipped.

  I snorted, trying to cover a giggle. “I can’t believe this is happening! I was going to undress Jake tonight, really slowly, before licking every inch of him, and now I’m screwed.”

  “Well, no, technically you won’t get screwed… since you’re on the rag and all.”

  I looked for something else to throw, but was out of luck. She giggled. I groaned. “Now I have to wear underwear! I’m so pissed!”

  Dylan sat beside me, shrugging. “So, you have to wear panties. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “Kind of is. I just got waxed. Everywhere. I was so ready.”

  “First of all, ouch. That sounds really painful. Secondly, I thought you were pissed at Jake because he hasn’t called you?”

  “Oh, I am,” I huffed. “But what if he shows up with a really great explanation and begs for my forgiveness, and then we have to have really great make-up sex to seal the deal? Be reasonable. How can we make up without really great make-up sex?”

  “Okay. Can I just say something, and you have to promise not to get mad?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to say it anyway.” She scooted away from me and rose to her feet, heading toward the door. “From here so you can’t hit me.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve known Jake for what, a couple of weeks? Do you think it’s a good idea to jump into bed with him?”

  “Define ‘good idea,’” I said.

  Dylan giggled. “Addie, this isn’t like you. Every man you’ve ever dated, you’ve made wait forever to get into your pants. What’s so different about Jake?”

  I bit my lip and shrugged. “I have no idea. I just really like him.”

  “Well, he certainly seems to like you,” she said.

  “He said he does, but I haven’t heard from him in a week.” I dropped my head onto my upraised knees. “That’s not a good sign, right?”

  “I’m sure he’s just busy, but I think he adores you.”

  “Well if he does, I wish he’d be a little more obvious about it.”

  “I have a feeling once this whole mess is over and I’m in the clear, he’ll be able to.”

  I looked up at her. “You think?”

  She smiled with a nod. “Yeah, I think. Now, blow dry your hair. Your makeup person’s going to be here any minute.”

  “People. You’re getting yourself all did too.”

  She groaned. “I was hoping you were joking about that.”

  “I never joke about hair and makeup,” I said, and rose to my feet. Feeling a lot better than I had five minutes ago, I smiled at Dylan. “Thanks, lady.”

  “Anytime. I should go put on some shorts and a T-shirt before they get here then.”

  “Uh, probably not.” I smiled sheepishly.

  “Why?”

  “Well…”

  She tensed. “What did you do, Addison?”

  “You’re getting waxed too.” I glanced at my phone. “And they’ll be here in seven minutes. Might as well stay in the robe. Easier access.”

  “Wait, what?” Dylan’s jaw dropped.

  I rolled my eyes. “Dylan, do you honestly think any man wants to take a trip downtown only to get attacked by an overgrown bush? You’ve got to mow that thing!”

  Her eyes widened, making it almost impossible for me to control my laughter.

  “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

  “Addison. I—”

  I couldn’t hold it anymore. I busted up. “Ohmigod, your face! I’m just messing with you.”

  “I’m not getting waxed?” she asked, still looking terrified.

  “Yes, you are. But only your eyebrows. Unless, of course, you want to get the full deal.”

  Dylan sighed deeply, patting her heart. “I hate you so much right now.”

  “I know, but you’ll get over it. Now go change. They’ll be here soon.”

  Still cursing my name, she left, and I went about making myself gorgeous. Lynette and Carla, our hair and makeup ladies, arrived and started in on Dylan. By the time I went to check on them, her eyebrows were perfectly shaped, and the ladies were starting in on her makeup.

  “How was it?” I asked, admiring their work.

  “I expected it to be more painful. It wasn’t bad at all.”

  Over the next hour, Carla and Lynette created masterpieces.

  When it was time to dress, I stepped into my gown, gingerly sliding the thin strap of my Alexandre Vauthier creation over my head. Lynette adjusted my hair and then zipped me up. She clapped her hands with a grin. “Perfect.”

  I checked myself out in the mirror and agreed. The dress was backless with a slight train at the bottom and a high slit up the right leg. With a pair of black Jimmy Choos and an Armani clutch, I felt confident I could handle even the snobbiest of Portland’s rich and powerful, and land me a sexy detective.

  * * *

  Jake arrived about a minute before Asher. I pulled open the door and elephants began stomping on my spleen. Good lord, the man was beautiful. His hair was styled away from his freshly-shaven face, and it took all of my willpower not to reach out and stroke his strong jawline and perfect lips.

  “You look beautiful, Addison,” he said, pulling me out of my head. He leaned down to kiss my cheek and I closed my eyes. He smelled delicious.

  “So, do you.” I forced myself to sound cordial and stepped back. “Come in.”

  “These are for you.” He handed me a bouquet of long-stemmed yellow roses.

  “Thanks. They’re nice.” I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a vase. Actually, they were perfect. But I wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook.

  “I had a little guidance in the flower department,” he admitted. “Your brother might have mentioned you’re not a red rose fan.”

  And knowing Jake had been thoughtful enough to ask Asher warmed my insides like a shot of Rumchata with a vanilla ice cream chaser. I set the vase of roses on the island. “Smart.”

  Dylan joined us, carrying her shoes (and her damn combat boots) and I shook my head. “No.”

  “I’m just going to bring them along—”

  “No. Absolutely not.” I crossed my arms. “Drop the boots, Dylan.”

  “But what if we need to run from the co—oh, hi, Jake.” She grinned, still holding the boots.

  “Dylan,” I warned.

  “Hey, Dylan,” Jake said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You look lovely.”

  Dylan nodded toward him. “Thanks, Jake. So do you. Well, not lovely. Handsome. Guys probably don’t want to look lovely, huh?”

  “Drop them,” I repeated.

  “You know I’m just messing with you. Chill out. Jake, did you guys find Nicolai Barinov yet? I swear that name is burned into my brain.”

  “Not yet. He didn’t show up for his shift at work, and his wife and kid claim they haven’t heard from him since the attack. We’ve got his house on twenty-four-hour surveillance, though. He’ll surface sooner or later, and we’ll get him when he does,” Jake reassured her.

  “Good. What about Bonnie and Michelle?”

  Jake frowned. “That’s part of the investigation. I can’t really get into the details.”

  “But did they confess to the murder? Did they hire Nicolai to come after me? Did you figure out what money Nicolai was looking for?”

  Jake held his hands up in surrender. “I can’t tell you any of that, Dylan.”

  I crossed my eyes and glared daggers at him. “So you can’t tell us whether or not she’s still in danger?”

  Jake’s frown deepened. “I can tell you we found enough evidence to arrest both Bonnie and Michelle,
and the investigation is still open.”

  “Has Dylan’s name been cleared?” I asked.

  He sighed. “No. We’re still missing some pieces to the puzzle, but I’m confident we’ll get it all figured out. I can also tell you that Dylan’s tire was slashed. Barinov must have been watching the apartment and wanted you to walk. You two need to be extremely careful until we find him.”

  They slashed her tire? If I didn’t have a party to get to, I’d have called Daddy’s driver and made him take us around the city scouring for the dirt bag. We’d make him pay for the damage he’d caused before turning him over to Jake.

  “That asshole!” Dylan growled. “Seriously, who slashes tires? That’s so expensively rude.”

  “The garage is monitored. Did you pull the security footage from the building?” I asked.

  He nodded. “They wore hoods and made sure not to face the cameras. They knew what they were doing.”

  “They?” Dylan asked.

  “Yeah. There were two of them. The other guy must have been the driver, which is probably how Barinov escaped.”

  Dylan took a deep breath. “Thank you for all your hard work on this, Jake. I”—she glanced at me—“we really appreciate it.”

  Yes, we did, but I still wasn’t letting either of them off the hook. “You know what I’d appreciate, Dylan? You putting those damn boots away.”

  “You ruin all my fun.” She huffed and released them. They hit the floor with a thud. “If I break my ankles tonight, I’m going to blame you.”

  “You won’t break your ankles,” I assured her. “Besides, Asher will be there to catch you if you fall.” The doorbell rang just as I finished my statement and I grinned. “Speak of the devil.”

  Dylan’s eyes widened. “Oh crap. I gotta…” She patted down the sides of her dress while scanning the area. She put one hand over her mouth—like she was trying not to get sick—and used the other to pick up her discarded boots. “I gotta go put these away.” Then she sprinted out of the room.

  “What was that about?” Jake asked.

  Before I could answer him, the front door opened, and Asher peeked his head in. “Everyone decent?”

  “Yep, come in. Dylan got spooked and ran into her room. You might need to go peel her off the ceiling.” I waved in the direction.

  Asher took a deep breath. “On it,” he said, marching off like a member of the royal guard, determined to save his queen from herself.

  I snickered and turned back to Jake. “My bestie—you know, the one on trial for stabbing her boss in the heart—she’s probably puking at the thought of the man she’s loved forever seeing her dressed up.”

  He cocked his head to the side and a smile tugged at his lips.

  “Yeah, she’s a hardcore killer,” I said.

  * * *

  Dylan

  “Dylan? You decent?” Asher asked, tapping on my bedroom door.

  I took a deep breath and glanced at my reflection one last time before hurrying to open the door for him. His gaze was on the floor, and slowly traveled up my dress to my face. Something hungry and a little terrifying sparked behind his eyes, and he took a deep breath.

  “You look… incredible,” he said.

  “So do you.” And holy cow, he did. He wore a black-on-black suit with a black tie and black oxfords and the whole look only enhanced the blue of his eyes—eyes which currently had me trapped. I chewed on my lip, and immediately remembered the warning from Carla not to do that.

  “Crap!”

  “What?” he asked, stepping into my room.

  “I don’t have lipstick on my teeth do I?” I asked, giving him a toothy smile.

  He chuckled. “No, you’re good. Are you ready to go?”

  I nodded and he took my hand, but I couldn’t get my feet to move forward.

  He faced me, still holding my hand, and little worry lines crinkled across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

  What indeed? So many things I couldn’t even voice because saying them aloud made me sound like the biggest chicken on the planet. I hadn’t even been this terrified when I was on the business end of a gun.

  “Dylan?” Asher asked.

  “It’s your parents,” I blurted out. “Do they know about us?”

  He frowned. “Probably not. Well, unless Addie told them. I don’t actually talk to either of them if I don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, neither does she,” I said.

  “Why do you care? What’s going on?” He squeezed my hand and tugged me closer to him.

  I took a step and put my free hand on his chest, feeling the sturdy fabric of his jacket. He smelled really good—edible good—and it kept distracting me from the words I wanted to use. “I… it’s going to be strange. What if they’re… weird about this? About us?”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t really concern them.”

  I leveled a look at him. “They’re your parents, Ash. Our relationship concerns them, and let’s be real here. I highly doubt I’m the type of girl they want for you.”

  “Really? What type of girl do you think you are?”

  I blew out a breath, still holding his hand. “Daughter of the town drunk, not a penny to my name, oh and on trial for the murder of my boss. You know, all the things any sane parent would want to keep their kid away from.”

  “I know you’re not calling my parents sane.” He leaned into me. “And you’re right, but you missed a few things.” The fingers of his free hand traced my eyebrow before floating down my nose to my cheek. He outlined my jawline, pausing to pull my chin up so my face was less than an inch from his. “You missed the best parts: intelligent, funny, compassionate, courageous.” He bent and pressed a soft kiss against my lips, restarting the butterflies in my stomach. The look in his eyes held so much adoration I almost melted on the spot. “Honest, beautiful. But you’re right, they probably expect me to end up with someone more like them.”

  My stomach sank.

  “Someone shallow, dishonest, narcissistic.” He smirked. “Thankfully I’m a grown-ass man who makes my own decisions.”

  Still, I’d never forgotten the warning Victoria Allen had given me the first time I met her. She pulled me aside and looked down her surgery-reconstructed nose and said, “Aren’t you just the cutest little plaything for my children? You’re new and interesting now with all that small-town inelegance, but they’ll outgrow you soon enough. They were bred for more than someone like you can possibly offer, so don’t get too attached, Dylan, I’d hate for your heart to break and for you to lose that precious wide-eyed wonder of yours. It’s so naïve.”

  I’d never told Addison or Asher what their mother had said. At first, I figured she was right, and they would get tired of me. Over the years, she’s made hundreds of like comments, clearly annoyed by the way I “weaseled” my blue-collar self into their white-collar family. I probably should have said something, but Addison and Asher had enough animosity toward their parents, and didn’t need me adding to it. I could tell them now, but that would be like tattling on a lifelong bully. I didn’t need or want them to go to bat for me, I just wanted Victoria to stop pitching insults.

  It was already going to be a nightmare to try to find another job, and Victoria Allen wasn’t exactly the type of woman I wanted for an enemy. She had more than enough contacts to get me blackballed by the entire city. Who knew what she’d do when she saw me on Asher’s arm? I was already on trial for murder, with the real killer after me. I didn’t need added complications from the rich, bored, and powerful.

  “My parents do not control me, Dylan,” Asher said, reclaiming my attention. “Don’t worry about them.”

  Easy for him to say. But he kissed me again, and all rational thought and worries melted away.

  “Come on, Dylan, the limo’s here. Wash your mouth out and let’s go. We don’t have all night,” Addison shouted from the living room, interrupting us.

  “And thank God you’re not classy like my sister,” Asher said, tugging me out of t
he room.

  Addison

  ONCE WE ARRIVED, I left Jake with Asher and Dylan for a brief meeting with my team. Stacy Jennings was running the kitchen staff for me tonight and I’d used her catering company before. She was an older lady who could cook anything. She was actually quite remarkable.

  “I have everything covered, Addison,” Stacy said. “You enjoy the night. If anything goes wrong, I won’t come find you.”

  I giggled. “I appreciate that, Stace. Thanks.”

  “You look beautiful, by the way. I saw the man you came in with. He’s a nice-looking young man.”

  I felt my face heat. “Thanks.”

  “Go have fun, honey.”

  “I’ll see you later.” I left the kitchen and started back to the ballroom. I didn’t get far. My arm was grabbed and I was pulled gently into a small room off the foyer. We’d rebuilt it as a library of sorts and, as we began to put the finishing touches on it, it was turning into my favorite room.

  “You gonna give me the cold shoulder all night?” Jake asked, sliding his hand to my hip as he kicked the door shut and pressed me against it.

  “Depends on whether or not you pull your head out of your ass.”

  “Is this because I didn’t call?”

  “Did you tell me you would?” I challenged.

  “Addison.”

  I crossed my arms. “Did you tell me you would call?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I did.”

  “And did you call?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Okay, so, no. This isn’t about you not calling. It’s about not keeping your word.”

  He studied me for a second and then stepped away, dragging his hands through his hair. “You’re right,” he conceded.

  “Really?”

  He chuckled. “That surprises you?”

  “I honestly thought you’d try to spin it.”

  “Look, if it’s really as simple as me telling you I was going to call and I didn’t, I can work with that, Addison.”

  “It really is... that’s not to say you’ll get away with not calling and/or texting... I want you to put some effort into this.”

  “I can do that.” He leaned down to kiss me. “Now. You gonna dance with me?”