Faux Pas

by Shannon Esposito

  That just deepened the growing sense of respect I had for this man. He definitely didn’t let anything stand in his way. And he took those amazing photos in his office? There had to be a major flaw somewhere, I was just blinded by hormones at the moment. I didn’t know if I should pry. Would it be rude to ask questions about his parents? Maybe he’d like to talk about them, to remember them. I took a chance. ‘What were your parents like?’

  The slight smile my question received made me glad I asked. ‘Da was a building and racehorse tycoon from Dublin. He was a quiet man. No nonsense, spoke his mind sort. Ma …’ The pain turned to sadness as his expression softened. ‘Ma was brilliant in investing and bloodstock. Her da was a famous jockey, that’s how they met. She was sharp and fearless and fair. Always fair. The kindest woman I’ve ever known.’ We were pulling up to the line for the resort valet. He threw the Jeep into park and turned to me, his eyes a storm of emotion. His hand reached up and fingered a stray wave by my cheek. Tucking it softly behind my ear, he said, ‘Her hair, it was the same color as yours.’ His hand brushed my cheek. His gaze caressed my face, when it met my eyes, an almost unbearable ache began at my core.

  Whoa. What was happening? Was it possible that he felt the same attraction I did? There was suddenly something I needed to know. ‘So, if you find out who killed your parents, would you go back to being a travel photographer?’

  He smiled. ‘Traveling’s in my blood, Elle. Seeing and recording the world, its beauty and its dark side. I do miss it.’

  My heart dropped like a stone. ‘Yeah, dumb question,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Can you pull up, sir?’ The valet’s voice came from behind me.

  My heart was still heavy when the valet opened the door for me. Even though we were under the open night sky, I felt in need of air. Then Devon was there, holding out his arm and I took it, slipped my hand around his bicep and the world titled right side up again. This fact left me uneasy. This man I barely knew should not have such an effect on my world.

  As we approached the glass doors, someone stepped right into my path. My face hit a solid chest and I bounced off it with a small squeak.

  ‘Elle!’ The large blockade in a blue security uniform said cheerily. ‘I don’t usually see you at these events. Wow, you look like an angel. How are you?’

  I had let go of Devon’s arm to check my throbbing nose. I glared up at Alex Harwick. ‘Well, I was fine,’ I mumbled. Deciding my nose wasn’t broken, I glanced over at Devon, who was watching Alex with a certain stillness that reminded me of a predator staring at their prey.

  ‘Alex, this is Devon …’

  ‘Burke. Yes, we know each other.’ Alex’s eyes narrowed as he looked from me to Devon. Neither one of them said a word.

  Not being good with uncomfortable silence, I grabbed Devon’s arm. ‘Oh, there’s Hope. Good to see you, Alex.’ I pulled Devon forward through the doors, tripping myself in the process. Devon caught me before I hurt my nose again, and we shared a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Not a big fan of Alex Harwick either?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s one way to put it.’ His blue eyes darkened. There was definitely history there. I’d have to find out later what exactly was between the two men. Tonight we had a different agenda.

  We moved deeper into the crowded lobby, and I spotted Hope making a beeline for us.

  ‘Elle!’ she squealed. ‘You look like a goddess! Doesn’t she look like a goddess?’ She was shaking Devon’s hand vigorously and grinning at him like an idiot. ‘Hi, I’m Hope.’

  I tried to give her the eyes … the ones that said: Chill out, you’re being an over-the-top-psycho best friend. But, she wasn’t paying a bit of attention to me. I needed to get her away from him pronto.

  ‘Devon Burke. Nice to meet you.’ He shot me a questioning look as she kept a hold of his hand, scrutinizing him like a piece of artwork.

  ‘Hope, come to the ladies room with me.’ I grabbed her hand. ‘Go on in, Devon. We’ll find you.’

  ‘Oh. My. God!’ Hope squealed at me as the door closed. Startled, an elderly lady who’d been washing her hands at the sink, glanced over at us. I mouthed ‘sorry’. Hope was too busy gaping at me to notice.

  ‘Elle Pressley, you were totally holding out on me. That man is one gorgeous hunk of flesh! Those shoulders! And those eyes! Oh my lord in heaven, those are eyes a woman could lose herself in. I didn’t see a ring either, Elle,’ she sang.

  ‘Shhhh!’ I pulled her to the far corner of the bathroom. ‘Would you please not start your matchmaking tonight? Please! This is a business deal. We are here to help Ira, so don’t make this into a thing for me, OK?’

  She crossed her arms under her perfect cleavage, one of the perks of being married to a plastic surgeon … no more bra stuffing. We had some pretty embarrassing locker room moments in eighth grade due to this practice.

  ‘You’re no fun. You know I need a distraction. I have to keep my mind busy, or I’ll go crazy. Besides, what’s the problem? Is there something you don’t like about him?’ Her brow shot up accusingly. ‘You don’t like his sexy Irish accent?’

  ‘No,’ I groaned. Feeling deflated, I leaned against the wall. ‘I mean yes. He’s perfect. I just feel out of control around him. Like I lose myself completely. And I refuse to end up like my mother. I’m not losing myself for any man.’

  ‘Oh, Elle.’ Hope pulled me into her arms. ‘You could never end up like your mother.’ She pulled back and grinned at me, her eyes full of empathy. ‘You hate Twinkies.’

  Feeling suddenly emotional, I wiped the dampness under my eye with an index finger and gave in to a chuckle. ‘There is that.’

  She grabbed my hands and made me look at her. ‘Seriously, you can’t keep running away from every eligible bachelor who comes across your path. Especially one who looks like he just stepped out of foreign cologne commercial.’ Sighing at my lack of response, she held up her hands. ‘Fine. I won’t interfere in your love life any more. Or lack thereof.’ She moved to the mirror and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. It was unnecessary, her lipstick always stayed in place. ‘But, if you don’t go for this one, I’m going to seriously question your sanity.’

  I moved to stand beside her and wiped the smeared mascara from beneath my right eye. This is why I, on the other hand, didn’t wear make-up. Keeping it in place was definitely a talent I didn’t possess. Our eyes met in the mirror and I shrugged. ‘I already do that daily.’

  EIGHT

  ‘Looks like Georgia has found her target for the evening.’ Hope shot me an amused grin after scanning the ballroom. I followed her gaze and couldn’t help but smile. Georgia Waters – Moon Key’s most notorious, sculpted-to-perfection female player – had Devon cornered between the bar and a giant cardboard cut-out of Reed Spelling, the Pause for Paws founder. ‘You better go help him out, Elle. I’ll find Ira.’

  Help him? I don’t think so. This was going to be too entertaining to stop. Georgia didn’t get her reputation as a ‘man-eater, southern belle style’ for nothing. I couldn’t wait to see how Mr Smooth handled this.

  I sauntered over to the bar slowly, being careful not to slip on the polished wood floor in these ridiculously high heels.

  ‘White wine, please.’

  I was only about ten feet from Georgia. She had her back to me, which was completely exposed due to a neckline that plunged low enough to make one question if she wore underwear. I had to pull my eyes from the yellow rose tattoo where her underwear line should have been. Devon, however, was staring straight at me. I held up my glass to him in silent salute, making no move toward him.

  His eyes narrowed for a moment, became calculating and then he broke out in a laugh, as if whatever Georgia had just said was the funniest thing on earth. I watched in utter fascination as he turned on the charm, beaming himself at the woman like he was light itself. Georgia had her hand resting lightly on his chest, her ample cleavage pressed into him as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Devon’s atten
tion was suddenly on me again, holding my gaze over her head. He let a slow smile spread across his lips and whispered something back to her. Peals of soft laughter poured from her and hit me like a cold bucket of sweet tea.

  That was it. My body (or was it my heart?) overrode my idea of watching him squirm, and I found myself moving to stand beside them. Devon’s smile morphed into one of barely concealed triumph. Georgia eyed me suspiciously, sliding her hand down to rest on Devon’s hip.

  ‘Elle Pressley.’ Her voice dripped with southern sugar but her deep blue eyes were not so inviting.

  ‘Georgia.’ I purposefully let my gaze fall to her hand and then met her stare head on.

  ‘Hi Elle. I wondered where you’d gone off to. You two know each other then?’ Devon sounded amused.

  Georgia looked up at Devon and then back at me, getting the message. She removed her hand but didn’t put any distance between them. ‘Yes,’ Georgia drawled, eyeing me like she was seeing me for the first time. Seeing me as competition for the first time was more like it. ‘Elle. So good to see you again. How is that charming little dog thing you do going?’

  Wow. Straight for condescension. ‘Great. It’s going great. You should come try out a class, Georgia. It’s really beneficial to dogs.’

  She flashed her bleached smile at me. ‘I don’t own a dog at the moment. I’m way too busy.’

  I know. I pressed my lips together and forced a smile. She wasn’t worth it. I moved my attention to Devon. ‘There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.’

  ‘Certainly.’ He motioned with his bottle of Guinness for me to lead the way. ‘Lovely chat, Miss Waters.’

  ‘Call me Georgia,’ she threw at him as we walked away.

  There were hundreds of people there. Luckily the auction tables seemed to be attracting most of the tux- and gown-clad swarm. Our search for Ira was still interrupted along the way by a few of my doga clients. Whitley, Violet and Beth Anne were there, along with a half-a-dozen others. It was nice to see them all sans fur-covered yoga clothes. I introduced them to Devon and had to practically pry him back out of their hands as they ogled, caressed and flirted with him.

  As we moved through the crowd once again I shook my head. ‘I would say sorry, but I have a feeling you were enjoying that. You should probably check your pockets for dollar bills.’ I smiled up at him as we searched for Ira. I was five foot nine counting the two inches of heel and still had to look up at him. That was another check in the pro box.

  Yeah, the wine was hitting me. All that practice of monitoring my thoughts flew right out the window in the presence of Devon Burke. They were taking a good romp in the mud, and I was powerless to stop them. I tried to give myself a pep talk. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Obviously you’re not the only one he has this effect on so let yourself feel what you’re feeling and then let it go. Letting go. That was a hard one for me.

  Devon chuckled beside me. ‘Your clients are very … friendly.’

  I thought about Celeste Green. ‘I’d say passionate is probably a better word.’ I pointed in front of us. ‘There they are.’

  We approached Hope and Ira, who were in conversation with another couple. Ira smiled as we drew near, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which sagged with dark circles. He really didn’t look good.

  ‘Hey, Elle.’ Hope clinked her wine glass with mine and gave me a look that said she needed rescuing from the conversation. ‘Ira, Mr and Mrs Berry, this is Elle’s date, Devon Burke.’

  They all exchanged pleasantries as I glared at Hope. She purposefully didn’t look at me. I couldn’t believe she used the word ‘date’. I took a big slug of wine, emptying my glass.

  ‘Hi, Elle … Mr Burke, nice to meet you,’ Mrs Berry said, slipping her arm around her husband’s waist.

  I went in for the kill. ‘Hope, I forgot to mention what a lovely purple gown that is.’

  She swiveled her attention to me with a tight smile, knowing me too well to miss the payback for the date comment. ‘It’s lavender and thank you.’

  Mrs Berry caught the tension between us, which was the second reason for my comment, though not as satisfying as the first. ‘Excuse us. We’ll leave you youngsters to talk. We’re going to go check out the silent auction items.’

  Before I could do anything to start a conversation between Ira and Devon, Bonnie barreled up and stood seething beside me in a lovely pale-yellow gown. Her focus was fixed on Ira.

  ‘How dare you show your face here. I know what you did, Ira Craft!’ Bonnie spat at him. ‘And don’t think you’re going to get away with it.’

  Ira paused mid drink, his pale face now blooming with red splotches. ‘Sorry?’

  Bonnie moved her hands to her hips. ‘Yes. You will be!’

  ‘Bonnie …’ I rested a hand on her arm. ‘I know you’re upset, but I don’t think this is the right time for this.’

  She turned to me, her eyes swimming in unshed tears. ‘You’re right, Elle. Tonight is about helping the animals. But—’ she jabbed a finger into Ira’s chest – ‘you are the real animal. I know you killed Celeste and the police are going to figure it out soon enough.’

  Hope stepped in front of her horrified husband. Since I knew her so well, I could see the tension in the way she held herself, but she kept her voice low and calm as if she were speaking to a spooked animal. ‘Bonnie, I don’t know why you think Ira would’ve hurt Celeste but he didn’t, I assure you. And you’re right, the police will prove that soon enough.’

  Bonnie made a growling sound, turned on her heels and stomped away. We all silently watched her disappear into the crowd.

  Now seemed a good time to bring up the real reason Devon was here. I stepped over to stand beside Ira. When I placed my hand on his arm, he startled. Hope slid her hand into his and nodded to me in support. I waited for an announcement someone was making over the loudspeakers to end before I spoke.

  ‘Ira, I have a confession. Devon Burke isn’t really my date. He’s a private investigator. I brought him here tonight in hopes that you would talk to him, so he could help prove your innocence.’

  Ira’s expression shifted from the shock of Bonnie’s confrontation to confusion as he eyed Devon. And then the unmistakable blush of anger. His eyes fluttered closed, and he downed the rest of his drink, the ice clinking against his teeth.

  I had never seen him angry before and it unnerved me a bit that I was the cause of it. My stomach clenched under my gown as I waited for his reaction. Hope and I shared a concerned glance.

  Finally, he opened his eyes and focused on Devon. ‘I appreciate the offer, Mr Burke, but I am innocent so I don’t need anyone to prove it.’

  Devon rocked back on his heels. He had one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding the beer bottle at his side. He nodded at Ira and spoke softly. ‘Actually I think you do. I spoke to the Clearwater medical examiner’s office this mornin’. They’ve determined cause of death for Celeste Green.’

  I felt us all collectively holding our breath. Ira lifted the hand that Hope wasn’t clutching. ‘Well?’

  Devon’s eyes flashed with emotion, betraying his calm demeanor. ‘Botox … to the neck.’

  Ira’s eyes grew wide. He let himself fall back against the wall. ‘But … that’s impossible.’

  ‘Yes, well I was skeptical, too, but they assured me it’s quite possible. The official cause of death is asphyxia, as the muscles needed for breathing were paralysed by the toxin.’ Devon took a slug of beer. Still watching Ira carefully he added, ‘And I would suggest contacting your lawyer. They’ll probably be coming at you with an arrest warrant in the next few days.’

  NINE

  We were seated at a round dinner table, quiet and in shock from Devon’s news. Unfortunately, it didn’t help that Zebina and Robert Green were two of the people who’d been seated at our table. Zebina acted friendly enough, but Robert eyed Ira wearily. I knew Robert and Ira had been golf buddies, so I was a bit surprised he wasn’t being supportive of Ira right now. Of
course, it was his ex-wife that had died. Still, did he really consider Ira capable of murder?

  A thought wiggled its way into my wine-soaked brain: was it a coincidence Celeste was killed so soon after their divorce went through? What if Robert didn’t want to pay Celeste alimony? Is he capable of something as devious as blackmailing Ira to get Celeste out of the way? If so, maybe now Robert was afraid Ira might spill the beans about his involvement to the police if Ira gets arrested for her death. Maybe that’s where the tension between the two men was coming from.

  I glanced at Ira, who was staring into his drink, deep in thought. Hope had clutched on to his arm and was whispering something to him. No, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe Ira was capable of murder. I was usually a pretty good judge of character, and nothing I’d ever seen in Ira suggested murderer. Robert, on the other hand, I had no idea what he was capable of.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, our kind servers will start to bring dinner out in a moment but before that happens, please welcome our founder, Reed Spelling, who’d like to say a few words.’

  Applause broke out as a tall, salt-and-pepper haired man took the podium.

  Devon leaned into me. ‘Going to the bar, can I get you a refill?’

  I closed my eyes against the sensation of his breath on my ear. ‘Yes, please.’

  As the servers brought around the salads, and Reed Spelling gave his speech about all the fabulous things donated, encouraging us to walk around and bid on them, I scanned the ballroom. I had a pretty good view of the bar, and I didn’t see Devon there in the cluster of gowns and tuxes. Maybe he went to the restroom? And then I spotted him, sitting at a table talking to Bonnie. Actually, she seemed to be doing the talking while he listened. After a few moments, he shook her hand, picked up our drinks and headed back to our table.