by Elise Noble
“Yes, it’s all good.”
Of course, “good” was a relative term where Oliver was concerned. In reality, everything he touched was either amazing or awful. I hadn’t yet seen any evidence he could do in between. But Oliver could wait until next week.
Because it was Wednesday, and I had a date. I’d begun counting down the hours until I saw Landon from the moment I woke up, and with twelve to go, I got a shock when he walked into Java.
My face lit up with a smile, and I was pleased to see it reciprocated. Imogen noticed who it was and sidled up. “Take a break. I’ll manage for five minutes.”
“Are you sure?”
After all, the place was busy.
“Positive.”
Landon reached me as I stepped out from behind the counter.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I couldn’t wait until tonight to see you, and I needed coffee. This seemed like the perfect solution.”
“What can I get you?”
He looked me up and down, and I laughed.
“From the menu, I mean.”
“I know, but let a guy wish. I’ll take an Americano.”
“You want to wait in the break room?”
“Does that mean I get extras on the side?”
I stuck my tongue out. “Maybe. Okay, yes.”
I definitely needed to work on this hard-to-get thing.
Five minutes went really fast when four and a half of them were spent locking lips with a cute guy. Good thing I’d put Landon’s coffee in a to-go cup, because he didn’t get around to drinking any of it, and all too soon, it was time for me to get back to work. Landon said he needed to do the same. He was interning at an advertising firm, which apparently didn’t pay that well, but he hoped to move up the ladder soon.
He wrapped one arm around my waist and picked his drink up in the other hand, then we walked back out. Luckily, I’d only worn gloss rather than lipstick, although Landon’s lips were kind of shiny now. He was no Oliver when it came to kissing, but… Stefanie! Stop it.
“Seven o’clock?” he asked. “I’ll pick you up?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
He gave me one last, sweet kiss on the cheek, and I looked up to find Mr. Rhodes glowering at me from his place at the front of the line.
“Later,” Landon said as he hurried out the door.
“Can you get that next customer?” Imogen asked.
“No problem.”
I paused to take a deep breath, then turned to face Oliver. No problem, my ass. The man was a walking definition of the word.
“What can I get for you, sir?” I asked, hoping I conveyed enough sarcasm there.
“Grande Colombian, black. I take it that’s the reason you couldn’t make this afternoon’s meeting?”
“So what if he is?”
“I worry about you, Stefanie. You need to be careful.”
“What are you now, my dad?” I dropped my voice to a whisper and hissed, “I’ll make sure I use a condom, okay?”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“I don’t care. Butt out of my life.”
His mouth set in a thin line as he handed over ten bucks, and I dropped the change into his hand from a couple of inches above, careful to avoid any chance of touching him. Horny Oliver scared me. Angry Oliver terrified me. Imogen passed me his drink, and I pushed it across the counter towards him. “Have a nice day.”
He didn’t answer, and I pretended I didn’t care.
“So, have you done the deed yet?” Imogen asked first thing on Thursday morning.
And I meant first thing. I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes as I stumbled to the bathroom.
“I’ve known the guy, like, a week.”
“Exactly my point.”
“No, we haven’t.” A smile snuck onto my face. In a neat twist on dinner, Landon had packed a picnic and taken me to an old-fashioned drive-in theatre last night, although I couldn’t have told you which movie we saw. “But I’m not completely averse to the idea.”
I put my fingers in my ears as Imogen squealed and hugged me.
“Oh, I’m so happy you’ve finally found a guy you like! Are you going out again soon?”
“He’s invited me to a party on Friday night.”
“Jamie asked me to the same one, but I have to work. Are you going?”
I nodded. After all, the last one had been fun.
“You want me to stay at Jamie’s that night?”
“Would you mind?”
“You say that like it’s a hardship. Believe me, it’s not. And there’s condoms in my nightstand and lube in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Imogen!”
“Just saying.”
We’d nearly come to the end of the Friday shift when Imogen’s phone rang. Neither of us normally worked Fridays, but the regular Friday team had asked for a favour, and covering meant they owed us one. Imogen popped into the break room while I served a solitary customer, a stranger who needed me to explain the difference between every kind of coffee we sold.
She popped her head out a few minutes later. “Is it safe?”
“He’s gone now.”
“Did he buy anything?”
“A bottle of apple juice. I’m serious.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Some people.” She held up the phone. “That was Louis. He wants to know if you’d like another shift at Rhodium. Apparently, he got good feedback on your performance last time.”
From Oliver, no doubt. My gut clenched. That…that asshole! He probably had a stupid smirk on his face while he was talking to Louis.
“Tonight? Louis wants me to work tonight?”
“Yeah. I remember you said you were going out with Landon, but I thought I’d double-check. Fridays are second best for tips, and you never know, Scott Lowes might come back in.”
“I really want to go with Landon.” But Imogen was right about the tips. I’d got my share last week, and it doubled my wages for the night. “It’ll sound awful if I tell Louis I’d rather go to a party, won’t it?”
She shrugged. “So don’t. I’ll tell him you’re not feeling well. What do you want? Flu? Cramps?”
“Ugh, not cramps. That’s too much information. How about food poisoning?”
“Sure. There’s no way he’d want you near the restaurant then. Shall I tell him you’re still interested for the future?”
Was I? Oliver would hardly eat there every night, would he? And with tips, the money was quadruple what I earned at Java. “Sure, but do you think I could do the main floor?”
She let out a throaty laugh. “Too many pervy businessmen?”
“Something like that.”
“I had a group once that ran bets over who could pinch my ass the most times. Gaston spat in their dessert.”
Nice one, Gaston, but I could hardly ask him to put something nasty in Oliver’s. And I already knew he didn’t order dessert from the kitchen.
“I think maybe it’s best to avoid that room.”
“If Louis offers again, I’ll tell him.”
“Are we going to the same place as last time?” I asked Landon when he met me at my door.
He’d worn a button-down shirt this time, and I was glad I’d made the effort with a dress. I’d had it for a while, a gift from an ex-client, and it was a few inches shorter than I remembered. The back plunged so low I’d foregone wearing a bra and instead opted for some weird sticky cup things Octavia had given me. I might have to curtail my balcony time, if there was one, because my nipples kept threatening to poke over the top.
“No, this one’s bigger. We’re heading out to Rybridge.”
“Really? Rybridge?”
I’d only been there half a dozen times, and I said a silent prayer we weren’t going to one of my ex-client’s homes. Now, that would be an embarrassment. Rybridge was Richmond’s richest suburb, where houses regularly sold for seven figures and you needed an invite to get past the gates.
&nb
sp; “A college buddy of mine has a house there. Well, his parents do, but they’re away for the weekend.” He turned to grin at me. “Eight bedrooms.”
My belly did a little backflip. Was that a hint? “Have you been there before?”
“Plenty of times. And if you liked the balcony at the last place, you’ll love the back deck.” He held out his wallet. “Have you got room for that in your purse? It’s making my pocket lumpy.”
I gestured at my tiny clutch. “Sorry. I couldn’t fit more than a handkerchief in here.” And a condom. Okay, three. Imogen insisted.
Landon helped me into his car, and when he turned into a sweeping driveway half an hour later, I became confident I’d love more than the back deck. The house was spectacular, an architectural masterpiece of glass and steel. And it had a sound system befitting it—I heard the bass pumping before we left the car. Even better, I’d never seen the building before in my life, although I had visited a similar, but smaller, home a few streets over for the purpose of spanking a retired banker with a wooden spoon while he offered me stock tips. The man had bored me to tears, and I wasn’t surprised his wife had left him for her gym instructor.
I had high hopes of tonight being more exciting. And as Landon caressed the bare skin of my back, the first frisson of what was to come ran through me. Would tonight be the night? Imogen had made a point of shoving the condoms into my handbag before she went to work, although I wasn’t sure what Landon would say if I produced the strawberry-flavoured one.
He took my coat as soon as we got through the door, giving me a moment in the hallway to admire the wire sculpture that dominated the room—a man and woman intertwined, but the man seemed to have three hands. No, four. A stylistic representation of Mr. Rhodes.
Landon blew cool air across my shoulder blades, making me jump. “Ready to go through?”
“Of course.”
He leaned across and whispered, “I love the dress. Especially the back.”
“Me too.”
He settled one hand on my quivering spine and steered me through to a huge, open-plan lounge. Someone had set up a bar on a closed grand piano, and the champagne was in full flow.
Mara spotted us and raced over with a couple of drinks. “Great to see you!”
I took a sip from the offered glass. “And you. Thanks.”
“Alice is over here. Landon, you don’t mind if I borrow Stef for a moment, do you?”
He laughed and dipped his head to kiss me. “Be my guest.”
We chatted for half an hour before he claimed me back, and I liked that he wanted me to meet other people. I imagined if Oliver were in the same situation, he’d threaten anyone who came near. Not because he cared for me as a person—he’d made his lack of interest abundantly clear—but because he was selfish and didn’t want anyone else to have me. I still remembered his glare at Landon on Wednesday. If looks could kill, Landon would have been on the floor of Java with daggers sticking out of his back.
I clenched my teeth and growled silently at myself. Stop. Stop thinking about Oliver. It was Landon who had his arm around me, and him who I planned to take home with me this evening. I needed to exorcise Oliver’s ghost, and Landon was the perfect man for the job.
“You want some food?” he asked. “There’s plenty in the kitchen.”
“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat.”
If only to soak up the alcohol. Mara had picked up a bottle of bubbly and kept topping my glass up as we spoke, and I felt a bit wobbly on my heels. Good thing I had Landon for support.
We’d got halfway across the great room when the yelling started. Angry shouts, not just revellers having fun.
“What the…?” Landon started.
Men in black swarmed the room, and my guts seized. Were we being robbed? I’d seen a true-crime special about home invasions last month, and three people ended up dead. Don’t puke, Stef. That wouldn’t help us to escape.
The overhead lights went off, and flashlight beams cut through the darkness as screams echoed from every corner. Hands tore Landon away from me. I tried to keep hold of his arm, but I fell over something solid—a body? a table?—and the air squashed out of my lungs as I landed.
The next thing I knew, one of the unwelcome visitors clapped a pair of handcuffs on me and hauled me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I screamed. “Let me go!”
He didn’t answer, just dragged me through the chaos towards the front door.
Was this it? Was my life over? Or was the nightmare just beginning?
CHAPTER 18
THE HORROR OF the situation became clear when I got marched out of the house and shoved into the back of a police cruiser.
“What’s going on?”
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“Why are you saying that? Am I being arrested?” My voice rose to a shriek, clear even above the shouts and chaos coming from all around me.
“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I’ve just read to you?”
A sob escaped, quickly followed by tears. “Why are you doing this?”
“Do you understand the rights I’ve just read to you?”
“Yes, I damn well understand them. Why am I in handcuffs?”
“I’m arresting you on suspicion of drug dealing.”
“Drug dealing? Are you crazy? I’ve never even taken drugs.”
Apart from a couple of puffs on a joint back in Hartscross when I was sixteen. I’d choked so hard I ended up with a huge black bruise on my back where one of my old school friends thumped me, and that was my first and last foray into the world of illegal substances.
“You’d be surprised how many people say that, ma’am.”
“But it’s true!”
“Best to save it for the interview.”
He leaned in and locked my cuffs to a grille behind the front seats.
“Wait! You can’t just leave me here.”
All I got was a snarky grin. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I couldn’t even wipe them away. Not that I had any tissues—my purse had disappeared somewhere in the melee, complete with my phone and wallet. Through the window, I watched as Landon got the same treatment as me, the whole ugly scene lit up by security lights blazing from the side of the house. There must have been thirty cops there. It rivalled the scene after Chrissie’s murder for sheer theatrics.
Jamie got led out next, wearing a pair of boxers and a blanket around his shoulders. A girl followed in similar attire, screaming bloody murder. Had they been together when this happened? I’d have put my head in my hands if I could. Imogen was going to be devastated, and I couldn’t even let her know what was going on.
The door behind me opened, and I jumped, then twisted around in time to see Mara half falling into the seat beside me. She looked pissed rather than upset.
“I can’t believe this,” she hissed. “Daddy hates when I get arrested. The last time he bailed me out, he cut off my allowance for three months.”
“Your allowance?” I asked hollowly. “You’re worried about an allowance?”
“Why do you look so surprised about this?”
“Because the police just burst into a peaceful party and arrested everyone. Did the neighbours complain or something?”
She stared at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “You really didn’t know, did you? Fuck, you’re so naïve.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your boyfriend deals the best coke in Richmond; that’s what I’m talking about.”
It was as if the world stopped for a minute as I took in her words and tried to make sense of them. Landon, a drug dealer? No way. I’d never seen him look remotely… How did someone behave on coke? I had absolutely no idea. But he’d always seemed so normal. So sweet.
“You�
��re lying,” I whispered, and she laughed harder.
“Think about it, little country girl. He takes you to parties and leaves you while he makes his sales. Then he takes you home and fucks you, right?”
“He doesn’t…”
“If you don’t believe me, that’s up to you.”
I didn’t want to believe her, just like I didn’t want to admit that Oliver had been right when he warned me to be careful. Once again, I’d managed to demonstrate an appalling lack of judgement.
Eventually, the cop came back and slid behind the wheel, and we lapsed into silence as he started the engine and drove us to the police precinct. Mara seemed unconcerned by the whole process, but I’ll admit I was terrified. Even more so when we got hauled out at the other end and fingerprinted. Having my mugshot taken, mascara streaks and all, surpassed even Oliver’s worst efforts as the most humiliating experience of my life.
“N-n-now what?” I asked the policeman accompanying me.
“We’ll take you to the cells, and then you’ll have an interview in the morning. Do you want to make your phone call?”
Who the hell should I call? As he always did at the most inopportune moments, Oliver popped into my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to phone him. Not like this. No way would I beg him for help. That left Imogen or my parents. My parents were out too. Mom would freak, and Chester would blame me for her nervous breakdown. And Imogen? How could I call her from jail so late at night with this sort of news?
“Can I make it later?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
I soon found myself shoved into a holding cell with a dozen other women. Half were clearly off their heads on drink or drugs, and the others looked mean enough that I gave them a wide berth. I spotted Mara at the far end and went to sit next to her, even though I didn’t like her much either anymore.
“You told me Landon was a good guy. Why did you say that?” I asked her.
“I figured you were looking to score. He’s always been generous with freebies.”
I leaned my head against the wall, feeling sick. My beautiful dress had a tear across the middle, and either dirt or bloodstains streaked the grey silk. And I’d broken one heel of my shoe, so when I walked to the cells, it was with a bizarre skip-hop that made me look drunk. How had I gotten myself into such a mess?
