by Laurèn Lee
Tonight, I chose a different look than last night's hobo-chic ensemble. This time, I wore a black top that hung off one shoulder and a pair of tight Guess jeans that hugged all my curves the right way. Tightly wrapped around my neck was a black choker with a silver heart dangling from the bottom. It wasn't my typical style, but it was all I could find at the boutique on Main Street earlier in the day.
I waltzed up to the bar with imaginary confidence in tow. I leaned over to reveal my cleavage. When the bartender, no older than myself, looked over, a small smile spread across his face. At first, I wondered if we went to high school together.
"Hey, beautiful." The bartender ran his fingers through his shoulder-length black waves.
"Hi," I flirted.
As I gazed into his eyes, I realized I definitely didn't know this man. Maybe he was genuinely smiling at me just because? It'd been a very long time since a man did so. Seeing his eyes sweep across my body provided affirmation that I'd picked the perfect outfit for the night.
"What can I get for you?”
A man in a business suit, who was technically in line before me, guffawed. I glimpsed a black matte credit card outstretched in his hand while a wary look controlled his face. Little did the man know that oftentimes, a pair of voluptuous breasts carried a lot more weight than money.
"A vodka soda with a splash of cran, please. Oh, and a cherry on top.”
What the hell has gotten into me? A cherry on top? Really, Elle?
Although, it could be the fact I started drinking a few hours before leaving for the club.
"Coming right up, gorgeous," the bartender confirmed.
I turned around and pressed my back against the glass bar, knowing my drink would be ready momentarily. I took in the glittering of the tacky disco ball, colored smoke weaving in and around the bare-breasted dancers on stage, the hungry, desperate look in the men's eyes as they watched the women strut around with fake promises in their eyes.
I also scanned the crowd for Rose but couldn't spot her anywhere. She said Bruce Wayne would be here tonight, but she never mentioned not being here herself.
A tap on the shoulder roused me out of my concentration as I whipped around. The bartender stood with my drink in hand, a few extra cherries floating at the top of my sparkling cocktail.
"It's on the house." He winked.
"Thanks so much," I replied. When I reached for the glass, my hand grazed his just so. The touch sent shivers cascading down my spine.
With my liquor in hand, I perused the club, trying to choose where to sit. How would I know what Bruce Wayne looked like? There were plenty of men in suits, knuckles filled with dollar bills, in the club. What made him any different? And if I found him, how would I go about striking up a conversation? How could I find out if he had anything to do with Callie's murder without spooking him?
I chose a high-top table in the middle of the Hens' Den. I wasn't too close to the stage but not a wallflower either. I sipped my cocktail, careful not to drink too much too fast. I didn't want to get buzzed while working a lead. Then a thought crossed my mind: did the police speak to this Bruce Wayne already? Were they on the case? I made a mental note to give Officer Renlee a call tomorrow to see if I could squeeze any information out of him despite knowing that if I did, it would be interfering with an active investigation. But when someone you knew had been hurt, there was no line you wouldn't cross.
The Beyoncé song ended as men tossed crumpled bills onto the stage. The wiry girl with large glasses and a short pleated skirt bent down to pick them up. Her bare chest bounced with each step she took to collect her tips. I wondered how much confidence it took for a woman to expose herself to dozens of strangers? Or maybe it was the fact that it was strangers and not anyone she knew that made all the difference? Either way, I knew I didn't have the courage to show a little thigh let alone my entire body to a crowded room.
I gazed around the bar, attempting to breathe deeply and relax. Another girl strutted out. Her long icy blonde hair reached the small of her back while her diamond-studded lingerie set glittered under the bright lights. Rihanna's "Only Girl in the World" blasted through the sound system as the girl took to the pole at the center of the stage. She spun around effortlessly like she and the pole were one entity. I had to give it to her, that couldn't be easy.
Anxiety plagued my mind as I wondered if this was the best idea. Why did I think I'd waltz into the club, find this mysterious Bruce Wayne so easily and get him to spill the beans about his relationship with Callie? I finished the rest of my drink in one gulp as the warmth of the alcohol spread through my bloodstream. The familiar lull washed over me as my senses dulled ever so slightly. That's what I loved most about it, the fact it dimmed the world with ease.
"Can I buy you another drink?" a voice said behind me.
I turned around to see a man standing before me. He appeared to have stepped directly off a GQ magazine cover. The man, almost six and a half feet tall, smiled at me with perfect pearly teeth. His dirty blond hair was stylishly coiffed to the side while his muscles screamed through his fitted black t-shirt and designer jeans. I immediately looked to his hand and found no ring.
"I'd love that," I said as my heart pounded to the beat of the stereo system.
"I'll be right back," he said.
I smiled and turned back around in my seat. Butterflies romped around in my stomach. Memories of being a young girl pining over a boy swooshed into my consciousness. After Zac, I didn't think I'd ever be attracted to another man again. Most times, guilt stopped me from noticing other men. Even though Zac was gone, I didn't want to betray his memory. Then I remembered the night with Noah. Maybe I deserved to be manipulated by him. Maybe that's what you got when you slept with a snake, you got bitten.
The idea of having a drink with this man caused bile to reach my throat. What would Zac think of me drinking with a man to try and squeeze information out of him? I missed him so much it physically hurt. It was like when a person loses a limb, and they feel the phantom pain. The appendage is gone, but the ghost of the body part lingers forever.
A few minutes later, I turned around to catch a glimpse of the man pay at the bar, then strut over to me with a smile plastered across his perfectly sculpted face.
"Thank you." My cheeks flushed when the man handed me the colorful martini.
"I'm Hayden," he said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rose lingering in the shadows behind the stage and nodding curtly.
All this time I searched for Bruce Wayne, and he found me instead.
Seventeen
My pulse quickened. I counted to ten in my head as I desperately attempted to calm myself. Could I be sitting next to the man who murdered Callie Jacksun? Alcohol churned in my stomach while I tried to catch my breath.
"I'm Elle," I replied evenly. The urge to bite my nails overwhelmed me, but I needed to stay cool.
"Nice to meet you, Elle. Now what is a pretty woman like you doing alone in a place like this?" He sipped his bottled beer with a foreign label.
"I'm supposed to be meeting a friend," I lied.
He raised his eyebrows but didn't push the issue. He inched closer to where I sat until his cologne wafted toward me, increasing my heart rate tenfold. Sitting so close, I studied his flawless complexion. There was just something about him. It was easy to see how he could tangle a girl into his net. I couldn't blame Callie for being attracted to him.
I had to play this cool. He couldn't know I was a former officer, and I couldn't let the Keygate PD know I was speaking to a potential suspect, either. The Sergeant wouldn't be happy with my interference. I knew I toed the line between obstruction and innocent conversation closely, so I had to do whatever it took to stay on the right side.
"What brings you here?" I asked smoothly.
"I'm waiting for a friend." He winked.
"Clever," I replied with a smirk.
"Actually, I finished up a business meeting shortly before I saw a beautiful wo
man walking through the door, and I knew I had to buy her a drink.”
Color rose to my cheeks as my face felt hot. "Is that so? And what sort of person has a meeting at a strip club?”
Hayden, aka Bruce Wayne, chuckled. "I like to have some of my meetings outside the office. Allows my clients to relax a little bit."
"Well, I'm sure they could unwind here," I said.
"What do you do, Elle?" He stood close enough for me to notice his eyelashes and how they complemented his insanely bright blue eyes.
"I'm between jobs at the moment," I said, which wasn't a lie.
"What field of work are you—"
The silence between songs allowed for Hayden's iPhone to be heard. He pulled the phone out of his jeans pocket and glanced briefly at the caller ID. "I'm sorry, will you excuse me? I have to take this.”
"Take your time. I have to visit the ladies’ room, anyway.”
Hayden playfully squeezed my forearm and mouthed, "I'll be right back," as he answered the call and strode to the front door and out of the Hens' Den.
My shoulders slumped as the air whistled out of my body. The lights shone a little brighter, and a warm sense of intoxication flooded within me. It was safe to say the alcohol was hitting me just right as I lingered in the sweet stage between tipsiness and drunk. However, if I drank any more, things could get messy. I needed water, and actually, it wouldn't hurt to go to the restroom too. I could splash some water on my face, use the time to think of how to probe Hayden without revealing my true identity or my purpose of speaking with him.
I breezed toward the bar and asked for water. The handsome bartender happily poured me one and massaged a fresh lemon slice onto the rim of the glass.
"Thank you!” I sipped the water as I scoured the blue brick interior for the restrooms. My eyes caught the sign toward the opposite side of the club, past the stage where two women groped each other, their eyes flirting with the men who eagerly watched them.
I entered the restroom, and immediately, overpowering fragrances filled my nose to the point of nausea. Vanilla, jasmine, lilac and several other indistinct scents permeated the air. Several girls loitered in the stalls. It didn't sound like any of them were actually using the amenities, and as a former cop, I tried to ignore what they might be doing.
The last stall remained empty. I stepped inside, closed my eyes and sat on the seat. I needed a moment alone. A minute to catch my breath. I'd been in similar situations before, but then, I carried a badge and a gun. Now, defenseless and without any authority, I'd inserted myself into a potentially dangerous situation. I'd noticed how the other men in the room avoided eye contact with Hayden. Despite growing up in Keygate, I hadn't heard of the man before this. Could be because he was at least ten years older than me, or because I left so quickly after graduation that I didn't have enough exposure to the adult world in my hometown. Had I ever run into him before unknowingly? Had I been in the same room as the man who may have killed Callie?
However, I felt confident that if I'd ever met Hayden in the past, he wouldn't recognize me now. I didn't surpass my awkward stage until after high school. It was one of the reasons I didn't come home for my tenth reunion; I didn't want to spend half the time trying to explain to my peers who I was and exactly which classes we had together.
A knock on the stall next door jolted me out of my nostalgia. I thought a girl stumbled into the stall and knocked on the wall by accident. Until the knock sounded again.
"Uh, hello?" I called, my voice wavering.
"It's me," a female voice whispered.
"Who's me?" I asked as I massaged my temples.
"You know who.”
Half of me wanted to laugh at the strange, clandestine greeting, but after a moment, I realized who was on the other side.
"Um, what's up?” Through the stall, I could see a sliver of girls by the sinks applying more makeup. I assumed some of them had to be dancers, but some were patrons, too.
"I saw you talking to him," the voice said.
I stood from the toilet and smoothed my outfit down. Recovering my glass of water I'd balanced on the toilet paper holder, I sipped the drink.
"Just be careful, okay? He's charming and all that shit, but he's dangerous, too.”
"I'll be fine. Promise," I said.
After a minute, Rose didn't say anything else, and I didn't ask why she was hiding in the bathroom. Instead, I exited my stall, washed my hands and left the ladies room. Across the way, Hayden stood at the table where we last conversed. Our eyes met and a wide smile stretched across his face, revealing the whitest teeth I'd ever seen. I waved weakly as I strode back to the man who both intrigued me and scared the shit out of me. If only I'd had my badge on me, I would feel much safer being in such a precarious situation.
"Long line?" he asked.
"Oh, you know. Girls travel in packs." I grinned.
Thoughts of how I'd broach the subject of Callie whizzed throughout my brain. I couldn't just come out and ask if he killed the girl I babysit for several years. So how would I find out if he was involved or not? Clearly, he was capable of horrible things, or else Rose wouldn't be hiding out on a toilet.
"Would you like another drink?”
No, definitely not. Say “no,” Elle.
"Yes, that'd be great," I said.
I silently cursed myself. How was I supposed to investigate this man if I was half in the bag? And yet, I knew without another glass I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. It was the devil and my savior all at once. If I could go back to when I didn't need booze like I needed air, life would be so much better. Then again, I'd still have Zac in my life and I wouldn't be in this situation.
Hayden snapped his fingers, and like magic, a cocktail waitress scooted over as she balanced a tray of empty glasses on her shoulder.
"What can I get for you, darlin'?" She smiled sweetly, but with an air of timidity.
"I'll have my usual, and anything the lady wants.”
"A glass of cabernet would be fine, thank you.”
The cocktail waitress eyed me. She studied my face, and for a moment, a flicker of concern appeared in the depths of her eyes.
Who was this guy who sat beside me? What was he capable of to put the fear of God into the women here?
"Make sure it's a suitable year," Hayden said stiffly.
The girl, who couldn't be older than twenty-one, nodded. She strode toward the bar and relayed the order to the bartender, who looked our way. We made eye contact and he grinned in my direction. I smiled with my eyes before returning my attention to Hayden.
He positioned himself to face me instead of facing the stage. "Tell me more about yourself, Elle," he said with cool authority.
I gazed into his eyes, which sent a radiating shock throughout my body. I feared the man but couldn't help feeling the slightest attraction toward him. Is this the feeling that initially drew Callie in? Did she fall for him without meaning to? I couldn't break our eye contact. It was as if he hypnotized me just by peering into my eyes, into my soul.
"Well, I grew up here in Keygate, but only came back for a short time to attend a funeral," I said as I finally looked away.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you enjoying your stay so far, you know, besides the funeral?" His fingers brushed against my forearm. Chills radiated down my spine.
"Yes, it's been great to visit with my family. How about you? What do you do for a living?" My palms moistened while my body stiffened. However, Hayden remained cool, calm and collected.
"I'm an international realtor," he said.
With my interest piqued, I asked, "I've never heard of something like that. What does that entail?”
The cocktail waitress returned promptly with our drinks in hand. She set them on the table and scurried away before relaying the price. Across the room, the music turned to a quieter house beat. No dancers graced the stage.
Must be an intermission.
"Well, clients come to me in search of real estate abroad, and I
work with local agents in that part of the world. Then, once the sale goes through, me and my firm get a cut of the deal. It's quite an interesting job. Not many people get to travel the world and make money at the same time.”
His hand rested on my arm now as hunger resonated inside his eyes. A fire burned within the pit of my stomach. Maybe it was the wine, but I couldn't be certain.
"What's the most beautiful place you've visited?" I asked.
"I only just returned from Seoul a few days ago, actually. I hadn't been there yet, and it was incredible.”
Seoul. A few days ago?
My heart pounded inside my chest. I reminded myself to take a breath. I brought my wine glass to my lips and tasted the dry but flavorful liquid against them. I wanted to finish the entire glass in one sitting but needed to keep at least some of my wits about me.
"I've never been. Do you have any pictures?”
Hayden pulled out his phone and scooted closer to me. He opened his Photos app with a smug expression.
"Here's the Jongmyo Shrine. I visited a few other places, but this was by far my favorite."
"And, you said you were there this week?" I gulped.
"Yes, I only returned to the country two days ago.”
Two days ago, Callie was already dead. Was Hayden lying to my face right now, or was he out of the country during Callie's murder?
"Busy man," I said.
The music returned as a remixed Lana Del Rey song crooned through the speakers. The lighting overhead turned to dark blues and greens, which illuminated the stage for the girls' return.
Hayden leaned in closely. I could feel his warm breath against the nape of my neck. Goosebumps trailed down the length of my arms. "I simply enjoy the finer things in life," he said. "That's why I want to take you home with me.”
Time came to an unexpected halt. Frozen. What should I do? What could I do? The man beside me captivated me beyond belief, but he could be a murderer. Grief rippled through my heart and shred its chambers. I wanted Zac; I needed Zac right now. He'd know what to do. But he was gone.
