I eat pizza alone. Since I’m mad, I eat all the good slices, leaving him only the crust. Then I feel bad and cut off the crust, hoping he doesn’t notice I ate all the good pieces. Then I just throw the pizza out because what the heck am I doing? Why am I even still here? Am I waiting around for him to come home, kiss my bruised ego, and make me feel better?
Maybe.
Possibly.
“Jesus, stop being so pathetic.” I get up. I’m not staying here like his little pet. I slide my shoes back on, which I seemed to have kicked off during our fake make-out session, and just as theatrically, walk out his door, slamming it behind me. Having no idea where I am, I start walking down the sidewalk, hoping I eventually hit a main street and can catch a cab. I’ll have it take me back to work, and I’m sure someone there will lend me some money to pay for the ride…I hope.
“We have to pretend, my ass,” I grumble to myself. “Maybe you should be clearer when you push the boundaries of pretending and be clearer when you moan my name!” I kick a rock in my path. “Tell me to shut up, you shut up. You grumpy bastar—”
“Off on a stroll?” My head whips over to a car that has slowed to my pace. Chino.
“Yep, and you? On your way to get that nose re-adjusted?” Jerk. What the hell does he want? More of a show? He can kiss it. I walk faster, pretending he’s not there. Where is the darn main street?
“Get in the car.”
“No thanks. I’m working off lunch. A girl has to watch her figure.” I start to walk faster, peering in between the houses, contemplating booking it.
“Get in the car, Addy.” That voice has me stalling in my step. The back driver side window rolls down, and Vincent reveals himself. “I hate to see you not dressed for this weather. It’s a hot one today. You’ll burn up in that hoodie. Let me take you to wherever it is you’re going.”
Shoot.
“Um…”
Story? No story. Listen to Logan? Take this matter into my own hands? “Okay, fine.” I walk off the curb and get into the car. My chest suddenly becomes tight, and I feel like I made the wrong decision.
“What has you walking away from your boyfriend’s house in such a mood?”
I don’t know how to answer. My first thought is to keep it genuine. “We had a fight. He can be a real jerk sometimes.”
Vincent laughs, slapping his thigh. “He’s a very serious man. It’s why I wonder how he keeps someone as delightful as yourself around.” His gaze brushes up and down my strange outfit.
“It’s laundry day. Slim outfit pickings. Do you mind driving me home?” The last thing I need is for him to discover I work at a tabloid magazine and off me in front of my office building.
“Home? Where’s the fun in that? I thought you wanted to help. Be my special spy and all?”
Okay, that piques my interest. “What do you have in mind?”
“I love your eagerness. But first, I’d like to make a special stop.” Vincent leans forward and taps on the privacy window. It lowers. “De Luxe.” He doesn’t explain further and sits back. By the time we make it to our destination, I’ve managed to almost bite through my tongue. His driver parks outside an exclusive boutique in the heart of downtown.
“What are we doing here? Is this where your meeting is?” I ask as the door opens, and Vincent climbs out, holding out his hand for me to accept.
“This is our special stop. Being in your presence creates a desire in me to spoil you. Something I sense Logan does not do enough of.” The fancy boutique door opens, and a woman dressed like a queen steps aside to invite us in. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I would be honored if you’d allow me to care for you today.”
“To what?” I look around and realize we’re the only ones in the store. Three women, who I presume work here, are standing by, ready and waiting. His sugary smile tells me we’re about to have a Pretty Woman moment here. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Please. It would give me immense pleasure to decorate your beautiful olive skin with some lovely attire. Jewelry, shoes. Anything. Today is about you.”
“Vincent, really—”
His sudden cool demeanor steals the last of my sentence. “Oh, yeah, sure! Why not.”
With a simple nod, the three women get to work. They pull items off the racks and drape them over me as if I were Julia Roberts herself…well, minus the whole hooker thing. My comfort level never eases, though. By the time they’ve poked and prodded at my hips, chest, and waistline, I’m dressed in a pair of white Armani slacks, complemented by a pale pink silk blouse, with diamonds around my neck and heels that will most likely kill me faster than the drug lord sitting in the car next to me.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Vincent claps his hands together, pleased by my interest. “I want you to be my eyes and ears during my meeting with a new investor today. I’m broadening my horizons. Business is ever-changing, and I think it’s time to branch out.”
“And what should I do?”
“Just sit and enjoy yourself. Then, once it’s done, let me know what you thought of the man. I presume you are a good judge of character.”
An investor? Business meeting? This could be huge! I silently curse Logan, who has taken my recorder, phone, and now laptop hostage. I have a good memory but having something to record this meeting would make it a lot easier. Not to mention proof for when Craig demands I fact-check my sources. Logan’s warnings begin to buzz in my head, and I silence them. Whether he’s right or wrong, I can’t have him steering me away from this. I’ve gotten this far, I have to see it through.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“No! I mean, no. I want to help. I’m your girl. Take me to your leader.” I probably could have passed on using my alien voice.
We pull up to a warehouse, and the first thing I notice is a row of black cars—similar to the one we’re riding in—lined up along the alley. One car, in particular, stands out. Great…
“Come now. Let’s go have some fun.”
More like lead me into my execution. What is Logan doing here? He works for him, dummy. Does he know I’m in the car? My bravery starts to slip. I begin to conjure up excuses for when I’ll have to grovel and explain how I left his house and ended up in the car with his boss, Chicago’s most notorious drug kingpin. “Maybe I should just stay—okay!” Or not. Vincent climbs out, his hand reaching out for mine. The other men filter out of their vehicles, along with Logan.
“Oh boy, that’s a new level of angry,” I mumble to myself. I debate on standing closer to Vincent, not sure who the bigger enemy is here. Logan takes the lead, his large steps bringing him closer to me.
Don’t run.
Maybe run.
Okay, run!
Logan grabs my arm. “Give us a moment?” Vincent laughs but nods, and Logan drags me to the side, his mouth lingering against my ear. “What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is low and laced with fury. I want to tug out of his grip and yell back, but I don’t want to make a scene. His eyes lower, taking in my expensive outfit. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“Couture. I think. And I’m learning the business. What are you doing?” He squeezes tighter, and I swallow my wince. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good. Knock this shit off. Open your eyes. You call yourself a journalist? You should sense trouble. If you don’t, you should find another line of work.”
“The only thing I sense is a guy who rudely left me alone at his place to run off and pout because he told me to do something, then got all crabby when I did it. What exactly did I do wrong for you to treat me like that? Should I not have taken off your shirt? Let you touch me like you did? Was it my moaning that really set you off? Should I not have dragged my nails down your back when I ca—”
“That’s enough.”
“Is it? Does that mean we’re done pretending?” His mouth is close, his warm breath heating my skin. “I’m only playing by your rules, just like you told me to.” I pull away but
remain locked in his gaze. “So, tell me, are we done pretending?” There’s a long pause, our eyes trapped in a standoff. Something flashes behind his steely gaze, then he drops my arm.
“No. We ain’t done, babe.”
He turns on his heel and walks away from me. After exchanging a few words with Vincent, who dismisses whatever it is Logan is requesting, he turns back to me. Oh boy. If looks could kill…
“Let’s go.”
I’m quick on my feet to get next to Logan when Vincent steps in front of him. He sticks out his arm, silently requesting I accept it. I look to Logan, who hasn’t lost his scowl. “You’ll be going in with him. I’ll grab you when the meeting is done.”
I look back over at Vincent, his smile smug. “Shall we?”
I slap a smile on my face, hiding my sudden nerves. “Lead the way, Captain.”
I don’t have to see Logan to feel the burn of his fury at my back. Saying he’s not happy is an understatement. But who is he to tell me what to do? He’s not my protector or my boyfriend. Everything about us is fake. Even these weird feelings growing like weeds inside me. I make the mistake of turning around to look at him. There’s a pang in my gut. Guilt. As if I’m betraying him by doing this. But he’s nothing to me. I owe him nothing.
Vincent’s hand at my lower back snaps our connection, and I quickly turn forward. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it. Now, come. Let’s enjoy.” Vincent’s men already have the door to the warehouse open. We walk up the dock, and I scan the area as he escorts me inside. We’ve entered into the storage area. I take in the mostly open yet dimly lit space with stacked crates along the far wall. Most of the shelving units are empty, which tells me this is a staged location. No actual inventory comes in and out of here. And the inventory that does is most likely a front.
Three chairs sit in the center, one already occupied. When we get closer, I get a better look at the men waiting for us. One is a giant, a bodyguard, I assume, and the other, Vincent’s new business associate. When he stands, my eyes take in the expensively tailored suit. His jet-black hair is slicked back, and his eyes, the color of the deep sea, move from Vincent to land on me. A shift in the air causes me to stumble, and I latch on to Vincent. These darn heels. This man has an alluring away about him. There’s no doubt he’s gorgeous, but it’s more than that—something deeper. Adjusting his suit jacket, he takes a step toward us.
“Vincent.” His baritone voice is smooth and seductive. “I wasn’t aware you had a new associate.” He brings his focus back to me. I try to remain calm, but his eyes peel me apart, layer by layer, until I feel overly exposed. I blink and look away, breaking his strange trance. “Renaldo.” He sticks his hand out, insisting I do the same. It takes a moment for my brain to register, and I follow suit.
“Addy.” There’s a tremble in my voice. I reach out my hand to shake his, but instead, he turns it and places a kiss on the inside of my palm. My lips part, my throat suddenly dry. I can’t stop focusing on the spot where his lips are. They linger longer than necessary. I should pull my hand away, but I’m frozen in place, too transfixed by him.
“Pleasure, Addy.” He gently releases my hand, and my arm falls to my side.
“Addy is my guest today. Shall we get started?” Vincent signals us to sit, and Renaldo takes his seat, his bodyguard coming to stand behind him. He crosses his legs and leans back, his eyes traveling up and down my frame.
“So, where are we with the shipments? Your clientele? I assume we are still on the same page with cost and production?”
Renaldo removes his eyes from me, and I finally feel like I can breathe. “As promised, the eastern part of the region is primed and ready. I had my men cross scan the barcodes, and everyone is on track. You will be happy with the supply you’ll be receiving. We only send off the best.”
“And these will be the purple containers as requested, am I correct?” Vincent asks.
There’s a slight shift in Renaldo. “We had some issues with the ports in Florida. The purple containers were held up. We lost some product in the delay, which doesn’t mean anything for you. The red and orange containers made it just fine. You will be pleased.”
“And your issues with Florida? Will they be a problem for future business?”
Renaldo uncrosses his legs. “We’re looking for a new outlet to receive our shipments.”
“And?” Vincent casually asks.
“You have access to the Port of Chicago. Your waterways have access to the Gulf of Mexico. I want to make a deal with you. Allow me access to the Calumet Harbor, and I will pay handsomely for it.”
Vincent leans back in his chair, adjusting his tie. “I don’t need your money. As you already know, I’m doing quite well in heroin and cocaine.”
“Yes, and with our new business venture, you can be even richer. Allow me to use your water access, and I’ll give you first choice in shipping containers. I’ll even cut you in for twenty percent of my profits.” Vincent laughs, but I’m not sure what’s so funny. “That’s over two hundred thousand just for letting us obtain a small portion of water access.”
“And my water access is priceless when I’m the only one who owns it. Tell me, Renaldo, how much product will come through those shipments?”
Renaldo stares at Vincent, trying to break down his numbers. Most likely trying to formulate the right answer. Does he lie and withhold profits or decide not to sacrifice his new business contact? He blinks slowly. His eyes shift to me, and he licks his lips. “As we discussed over the phone, you will acquire five containers. Along with my personal investments, seven containers total.”
He’s totally lying.
“Two hundred? That’s equal to millions in profit. You insult me with your twenty percent.”
“I find it to be very generous.”
“And without my access, you have nothing. I suggest you find another option.” Vincent begins to stand when Renaldo stops him.
“Thirty-five.”
Vincent settles back into his seat. “Forty, plus first choice in containers, and you have access.”
Renaldo remains casual in his composure, unfazed by the hike in percentage. His real profit wouldn’t take a hit. He holds Vincent’s gaze, his expression lax, as he takes another few seconds to ponder the negotiation, then nods and stands. “You have a deal.” Vincent is up as well, and they shake hands. “We’ll be in touch on dates and shipments. I expect your discretion on our partnership. I would hate for anyone else to try to clutter up your waterways with their own dealings.”
Vincent nods. “Of course.”
Renaldo then turns his interest back to me. “I hope all our meetings have you in attendance. I must say, you are a sight.” Again, he reaches out, and I offer my hand. He places another kiss, this time on the inside of my wrist, and my cheeks flush. I admit, he may have just made me swoon, if that’s a real thing. I can’t decide if being seduced by him is charming or terrifying. He nods to Vincent, then he and his bodyguard are gone.
A few seconds pass before Vincent speaks. “What did you think?” His words break me out of the daze I was in.
“He’s an interesting man,” I reply.
Vincent throws his head back and laughs. “You seem a little flushed. He tends to have that affect on women. It’s why he’s so successful.”
“His good looks sell drugs?” I ask.
“That too. Drugs are his second most profitable business. His success comes from something much more profitable. Now, I didn’t invite you here to drool over him. Tell me. What did you learn?”
I shake off the fogginess. “I think he’s lying to you. He’s bringing in way more than he’s telling.”
Vincent looks pleased at my response. “Very good.”
“What are you going to do?”
He wraps his arm around my waist, and I try to control my breathing at the uneasiness I feel when he touches me. “Maybe I will steal his shipment and claim his competitors got wind and robbed him. Teach him that lying to m
e comes at a hefty price. Let’s go.”
We walk out of the warehouse, passing Logan as we exit. I refuse to look at him, because I’m too afraid of what I’ll see. When we get to Vincent’s town car, Logan’s voice sends a tremor down my spine.
“I’ll take her home.”
I turn to Logan, who’s back to his cool, collected self. There’s no sign of him wanting to strangle me, but I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
“I have other business to attend to. Addy, it’s been a pleasure. See you real soon.” His driver hands Logan my shopping bags while Vincent dismisses us both, gets into his car, and drives away.
Well…shoot.
This is awkward.
“So—”
“Get in my car, Addy.” Logan walks away.
“Yep. On it.” I hurry behind him, my tail tucked between my legs.
The ride back to my place is quiet, but the tension in the car is loud, screaming I’m in big trouble. I open and close my mouth to try to explain, but nothing comes out. Mainly because every time I steal a peek at Logan, I freeze up and retreat.
It’s when I realize we’re headed back to the suburbs and not my apartment that I finally use my voice. “Hey, where are we going? My apartment—”
“You’re staying with me.”
Yeah… no. “Thanks, but I’m not into sleepovers. I never even had them as a kid—”
“You wanna play with the big boys? Go right ahead. I’m done trying to stop you. You clearly don’t have any sense of what real danger is. So, while you scratch this itch to be a rebel, you can stay with me. At least I can try to protect you until you realize what you’re doing is childish, not to mention dangerous.”
Celebrity Dirt: A Fake Relationship Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 8
