Shades of Pink (Lola Pink Mysteries Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  Pots and pans clanked from the kitchen, the sound a comforting, lyrical melody. My stomach was growling for a proper meal. I took one step into the dining area and froze at the figure seated there. “Oh, hello.”

  Mr. Dane Clark rose from his chair. “You sound surprised to see me?”

  “I thought…” I turned and helplessly looked behind me at the kitchen. “I thought Mrs. Dulcet said it’d just be ‘us.’ I thought maybe you’d changed your mind after the laundry. . . You’re not us. You’re…you. And you’re…dressed.”

  He was dressed, all right—dressed for a red carpet movie premier. He wore a violet tie over a meticulously fitted suit, his dark hair looking soft and touchable. He smelled nice, even from across the room.

  I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination playing tricks on me, or if the new way he wore his hair made him look even more handsome. Stunning, even, or delicious. But that could’ve just been my hunger pangs.

  “Do you have an issue with the clothes purchased for you?” Mr. Clark eyed my attire. “I captured your measurements at the Psychic in Pink. Did I make an error?”

  “No, the clothes are perfect.”

  He waited, perfectly still, for an explanation that I didn’t have.

  “Don’t you like my dress?”

  It was at that moment that Mrs. Dulcet whirled around the corner and caught sight of me. She carried a tray of tiny finger sandwiches, which turned hazardously to one side when she let out a short bark of laughter. “Oh, dear. Did you grab that from the sleepwear closet?”

  I looked down, shock registering as a patch of red on my cheeks as I caught sight of myself in the reflection from the silverware. “These are…pajamas.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have labeled things more clearly.”

  “Nope!” I chirped. “I’m just used to wearing a t-shirt and shorts to bed, and this looked like a…well, a dress. But if you’ll give me one second, I’ll go change.”

  “No.” Mr. Clark stopped me in my tracks. “You should feel comfortable to wear whatever you like, for as long as you live here. Are you comfortable?”

  “Very,” I said tersely.

  “Great,” Mrs. Dulcet said. She set the tray down on the table and, for a long moment, stared at the three place settings. “Actually, I’m not incredibly hungry this evening, so I’m going to leave the two of you alone.”

  “No, please stay!” I said. “We’d love it.”

  She looked up, glanced at Mr. Clark who nodded his agreement, and then back to me. Her eyes gave the slightest twinkle as she wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure you two have business to discuss, and I don’t want to eavesdrop.”

  “No, we don’t,” I told her. “We’ve chatted plenty.”

  “Dane,” Mrs. Dulcet said. “Ask the lady if she’d like some wine.”

  “Wine?” he asked, standing when I gave a hesitant nod. He moved across the room and poured me a small glass from the open bottle left on the table. “About clothing,” he said, upon returning to his seat. “I wanted to apologize for the incident earlier. I didn’t mean to surprise you in the laundry room.”

  “No, I know. It’s fine.” I forced a smile and reached for a finger sandwich. “Don’t worry. It was our meet-cute.”

  “Meet-cute?”

  “In movies. Rom-coms. You know. Where the guy meets the girl and it’s all awkward and horrible and later in the movie, they’re both supposed to laugh about it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Come on! You know what I mean. Every movie has them. Even Disney movies.”

  “I’ve never seen a full movie.”

  “Sorry, what?” I took a bite of the sandwich. “I thought you just said you’ve never seen a Disney movie.”

  “No, I’ve never seen any movie.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My mother wasn’t a fan of television or movies. You won’t find a television in the castle.”

  “But it’s your castle now. You can do what you want.” I looked around the room. “You practically own an entire city. I’m pretty sure you could buy a flat screen TV if you wanted.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “You could start small. You know, those little handheld sets with the big antenna? Basically only functional to listen to football games in between bouts of static?”

  “I don’t find movies entertaining.”

  “How can you say that if you haven’t ever seen one?”

  “I’ve seen half of one, and that was enough.”

  I ignored the lion-like growling noises coming from my stomach and set the finger sandwich back on my plate. “Now, I’d like to hear this. How do you mean that was enough?”

  “I’ll give you one example—romantic comedy. Just like you said. Here’s the plot: boy meets girl. They fall in love. End of story.” Dane’s plate was still empty. He took a moment to scan the appetizers. “It’s the simplest equation in the world.”

  “The simplest? The most difficult, you mean! Love is all messy and complicated, sometimes it’s nasty, and then sometimes it’s the most amazing thing ever. Come on, families are the same way. You have a family, don’t you?”

  “Yes, one that is very organized and logical.”

  “And never lets a child watch a Disney movie!”

  I sat back in the chair, feeling a mix of frustration and annoyance at Dane’s mother, a woman I’d never met. At the same time, I couldn’t help but feel perplexed, and a bit sad. Dane Clark was many things, but the one emotion I’d never expected to feel for him was sympathy. He owned a city and still, he was every bit as human as the rest of us. Every bit as broken and complex, even if he didn’t look it.

  “Why don’t we watch one together?” I suggested. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Beauty and the Beast gets my vote.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You’re stubborn.”

  “No. I don’t have movies built into my daily schedule. I’d have to cut out exercise or business meetings or my pleasure reading time, and I’m not willing to make that sacrifice.”

  My frustration increased to pulling-out-my hair level, and if Mrs. Dulcet hadn’t walked in then and there with two fat slabs of steak, all juicy and aromatic, I might’ve done just that. But the steak drew my attention away from our argument. “That smells delicious.”

  Mrs. Dulcet smiled as she delivered the plates. “It will taste delicious, too. Enjoy.”

  “Mrs. Dulcet,” I said, before she could leave. “Have you seen a movie?”

  She laughed and nodded, but her laughter ended too quickly, and she looked away too soon. “Yes, of course, dear.”

  “Did you know he hasn’t?” I pointed my spoon in the direction of Dane Clark. “I’m trying to rectify the situation.”

  “Mrs. Dulcet tried to let me watch one, once,” Dane said. “I was six.”

  “Dane—” Mrs. Dulcet shook her head. “This isn’t dinner conversation.”

  A shadow of confusion crept over Dane’s face.

  “I’m curious, go ahead,” I said. “Please.”

  Mrs. Dulcet stopped behind Dane, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Dane had never been allowed to watch television. None of us in the castle were allowed to have individual electronics. All of them were, and mostly still are, monitored, as you well know.”

  I nodded, thinking of my poor, fritzing phone.

  “My husband, years ago, had smuggled a tiny set into our room in the staff hallway. Well, during the Christmas season there was a showing of Charlie Brown. I snuck Dane, just a child, into my room, and together we watched almost all of it. Until his mother caught us.”

  “But you weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  Her fingers squeezed Dane’s shoulder tightly. “I broke the rules. As much as I don’t think watching Christmas movies is wrong, I shouldn’t have undermined her authority and—”

  “But…it’s Charlie Brown. Everyone loves Charlie Brown.”

  “She confiscated the television set and gr
ounded me for the holiday season,” Dane said, his voice emotionless. “No presents.”

  A few hot, feisty words came to my mouth, but I bit them back. “I’m really sorry, Dane.”

  “It’s no problem,” he said. “I can’t miss something I’ve never had.”

  Mrs. Dulcet’s fingers squeezed his shoulder. Even from across the table, even from an outsider’s view, I could tell the two had a special bond. Not that of mother and child, but something different, something unique.

  Mrs. Dulcet bent over, gave Dane’s cheek a brief kiss, and offered a smile to me. “I’m off to bed, but the kitchen staff will be around to bring you dessert and take care of the dishes. If you need anything of course, just call.”

  When she left, an uneasy sort of tension set upon the room. It was just Dane and me, the aloneness suddenly too much to bear.

  “I’m sure he’ll watch one with you,” Dane said. “Your handyman.”

  “What?”

  “Since you’d like to watch a movie, and I have neither a television nor the time to spare, I’m suggesting you go to one with him. On your date.”

  “Okay.” I forked my steak. “I’ll ask him, I suppose.”

  “You sound upset. You’re speaking louder than normal.”

  “Just leave my handyman out of this—it’s only a first date.”

  Dane cleared his throat, then took a sip of water. “I was trying to watch out for you.”

  We lapsed into silence next, which was fine by me. The steak was tender, cooked to perfection. Bits of it melted on my tongue. I closed my eyes, savoring the experience.

  “Good?”

  “The steak? Yes. Amazing.”

  Dane surveyed me from across the long table, and suddenly, I felt the distance between us. An ocean of woodwork topped with plates and foods and candles.

  “Dane,” I said finally.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re staring again.”

  “You’re nice to look at.”

  “I met with Nick today,” I said, once I’d managed to swallow my steak and digest the compliment with it. “He’s been with your family for a long time.”

  “Yes, he has. He briefed you on everything, gave you the files?”

  “Yeah, although I still have a few questions to run by you.”

  “Of course. We can meet after breakfast in the morning. Are you finished eating? I can walk you to your room.”

  I briefly contemplated arguing for dessert, but thanks to Mrs. Dulcet and Gerard, I had Oreos and Pop-Tarts in my room, and I figured I could make do with them for now. “It won’t interfere with your schedule?”

  “The walk or our meeting?”

  “Both.”

  He smiled. “My schedule today has been so disrupted it can’t possibly be set straight. As for tomorrow, I’ve already scheduled you, having anticipated your questions.”

  “What time will you be at the laundry room tomorrow?” I asked. “You know, so I can avoid it.”

  He laughed, and the sound was magic. To make Dane Clark laugh had not been an easy task, but I wanted nothing more than to find a way to make it happen again. The kitchen staff entered and removed our plates, however, and the moment was interrupted.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Dane said, surprising me with his honesty. “I enjoyed it.”

  Something inside fluttered and knocked against my chest like butterflies. But another part of me held back. “Dane,” I began, playing with the edge of my napkin as I stood. “You’re my boss. I don’t think we should take our relationship anywhere but professional.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not looking to date anyone—least of all you.”

  “Well, gee, you know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

  “Lola—”

  I shoved my chair against the table. “Goodnight, Dane,” I said, trying my hardest not to stomp as I left the room. Just when I thought he’d been flirting with me, and bam; he knows exactly what to say to ruin the moment. “Sweet dreams.”

  “Lola, wait.” It wasn’t the words that made me stop, but the tone behind them. Urgent, commanding. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The only reason to date is to find a potential mate,” he said, a half smile on his face. “We would be horrible together. Can you imagine a child with my social skills and your organization? They’d be a disaster.”

  The image drew a smile to my face, and the fact that he’d already pictured us together hadn’t hurt either. I did not intend to date my boss, but, it wasn’t a horrible feeling that he found me attractive. “Oh, Mr. Clark, you are something else, you know that? But I’d like to point out one thing you haven’t considered.”

  His blue eyes changed then, morphing from an icy blue wash to a glittering gem filled with curiosity. He watched me carefully. “What’s that?”

  “Can you imagine a child with my social skills and your intelligence?” I wagged my finger at him, a teasing smile creeping onto my face. “Now that’s a kid who could rule the world.”

  It was several hours, and many stacks of files later, when the tornado of rocks peppered against my window.

  Pebbles at first, a little tap against the glass. I didn’t realize it was after ten p.m. until someone threw a rock the size of my fist that barely missed shattering the pane.

  “Lay off, will you?” I hauled the window up, hissing at the two figures standing a few feet below. “I thought someone was breaking into my room.”

  “We are breaking into your room.” Annalise flipped over the windowsill like a little bluebird, hardly touching the floor as she landed. She stood with a scowl on her face. “I’m still opposed to this. I always have been, and I will be in the future.”

  “Your opposition is noted,” I said. “Now help me get Babs inside.”

  Annalise made a low rumble of disapproval in her throat before grabbing Babs’s other hand and helping me haul her through. If Annalise had been all cat-like and dainty, Babs was more like a rhinoceros in her lack of grace. By the time we all collapsed onto the floor in a heap, I was sure the entire castle was awake.

  “Follow the yellow railing?” Babs brushed herself off. “I need an Oreo. Are you kidding me? Why can’t we use the front door? I half expected to see Oompa Loompas dippity doo’ing out there.”

  “I’m sorry, Dane—” I hesitated. “Mr. Clark is strict, and his butler suggested you sneak inside.”

  Babs raised an eyebrow. “First name basis already?”

  I snatched the Oreos and held them out of reach. “Apologize, or the sugar’s all mine.”

  “Do you have milk?”

  “Of course I have milk.”

  Babs’s face crumpled. “Fine. Sorry. Tell me about Mr. Clark.”

  The three of us piled onto the bed with a tray of Oreos and teacups full of milk spread before us. Just like we’d always done before, minus the fancy teacups.

  I filled the girls in on my day. I began with my late arrival, continued through the awkward encounter in the laundry room, and finished with my extensive analysis of the files. Of course, I left out the specific details of the case, since I wasn’t allowed to share that information.

  “So?” Babs blinked at the end of it. “You left out crucial pieces of information. Like what the heck you’re wearing.”

  “Oh, this.” My face turned red, and I plucked at the nightgown. “Apparently, this is nightwear.”

  “You didn’t wear that outside of this room, did you?”

  I looked up and met her gaze. My expression must’ve been pained enough that Annalise and Babs flinched for me.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Babs said. “You thought it was a dress?”

  “I wore it to dinner.”

  “Well, you look great!” Babs chirped. “And we’re in your bed now, so it’s very fitting. More importantly, what about the rest of the details?”

  “You know I can’t talk about the stolen property,” I said. “I signed an NDA.”<
br />
  “God, no, I don’t care about your job,” Babs said with a horrified expression on her face. “I’m talking about Dane. Mr. Hottie Clark. How did he look without a shirt?”

  Annalise expelled a breath. “This isn’t about naked men, Babs. He’s her boss for crying out loud! It’s inappropriate. What’d you find in the files, Lo?”

  I looked between the two. “Um—”

  “Me first,” Babs said. “Or I’m not being your lawyer anymore.”

  “He’s…okay.” I decided to answer Babs first. When Annalise gave me a murderous glare, I shrugged. “What? You wouldn’t give up free legal counsel either.”

  “Oh, my word!” Babs pressed a hand to her heart. “You love him! You adore him! Look at that smile. I haven’t seen that expression since Bobby Wisler asked you to the prom!”

  I shook my head, but the smile wouldn’t fall off my lips. “I don’t know how to describe it. He’s different. Different than any man—er, boss—that I’ve ever met.”

  “Well, yeah. It’s not every day you meet a billionaire.”

  “It’s not about any of that. The money, the looks…” I shrugged. “There’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “While you figure it out, why don’t you put a finger on him?”

  Annalise, who’d refrained from eating a single cookie, began shoveling them into her face like she’d been starved. “You girls are so crude.”

  “He’s smart, ridiculously smart. But there’s something else,” I said. “He’s lived a very sheltered life.”

  “You don’t say,” Babs murmured. “From what I’ve read, he’s hardly ever left Castlewood.”

  “He’s never seen a movie!”

  “What?” Babs flopped backward onto the bed. “Cinderella? Pretty Woman? Die Hard? The Notebook? Titanic? What’s wrong with him?”

  “His mom never approved of TV when he was young, so he probably got used to not having it around.”

  “It’s not so strange,” Annalise said with a smug smile. “I don’t watch TV either. I’m far too busy training.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve seen Beauty and the Beast,” I said.

  Even Annalise didn’t have a response to that.

  “Poor thing,” Babs said. “You’ll have to rectify the situation.”