“Ok.” Yes prepare your side Addison, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stick to mine.
Chapter 19
Addison
Do you know who couldn’t sleep last night? This girl. Thanks to my spur of the moment decision to share my bed, I was awake at dawn again, trapped in a spoon I didn’t want to escape, pondering the complexities of life. Things like—
Am I meant to be a field agent?
What happened to the wall I built between us?
Why was the cheesecake so small?
Ugh. Last night, I went up to my room and tried to block out all the inappropriate thoughts about Vin. Instead, I ended up tossing and turning to all the ways I want Vin Mills to touch me.
I left the house bright and early, before he woke, to clear my head. June had the same idea, and joined me for a walk, just the two of us today.
As we make our way past Miffie’s house, June grabs my arm to hold me back. “I just wanted to thank you for last night.”
“Well, we should be grateful my husband is so badass.”
She smiles. “He looked very James Bond racing across the lawn in his suit.”
She has no idea how close she is about Vin. After our strenuous workout, June joins me at my house for coffee. “Are you going to Kelly’s garden party this weekend?” she asks, seated at the island.
“Do I really have a choice?” Of course, I’ll be there.
She laughs. “It’s really not that bad. We should go shopping. Shopping always makes me feel better.” She stands. “You in?”
“Let’s do it.”
She laughs and I grab my bag, shooting off a quick text to Vin to let him know where I’m going.
He answers back with a ‘have fun’ and a smiley face. I grin at my phone like a fool excited to go shopping.
A while later, June turns into a front row spot at the Highland’s shopping mall complex. It’s an enormous concrete building, complete with high-end stores for their high-end clientele. Even the boulders lining the parking lot are most likely plucked from the most expensive mountain. Pillars, surrounded by flowers in pinks, blues, and purples, stand like soldiers at the front of the main entrance. It’s the nicest mall I’ve ever been to.
I’m tempted to drop a few pennies in the majestic fountain and wish for money to shop here, but I’ll need those pennies to buy anything.
“Want to grab lunch after we hit a few stores?” June asks as we enter through the glass doors.
“Sure.” I force a smile, knowing I’ll have to hit some clearance racks with the FBI fronting the bill.
Do I really need a new dress? Yes, yes I do. Because June is my kind of people.
“Let’s go in Neiman Marcus,” she suggests. “They have great sales, and I’m thrifty.”
“I love thrifty,” I tell her as we navigate the marble floor. “Bargain is my middle name.”
“That table in my kitchen?” she sort of whispers, “IKEA.”
She ratchets to the top of the friend list with her confession. I don’t have to spare any expenses when June talks me into buying a diaphanous yellow number she promises will go good with my bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and is marked down to a shocking fifty dollars. “With your tan it’ll be really sexy.”
I buy it. Shopping with June is pain-free, and kind of fun, because she is the ultimate bargain hunter. And to my utter surprise, so is Helena. We run into her at the shoe sale aisle in Bloomingdale’s and for the next hour I’m schooled on where to find ‘the gems.’
With our arms loaded with bags, the elevator whisks us to the second-floor atrium where Helena suggests a busy, upscale restaurant for lunch. We’re seated at a table next to a wall of windows overlooking a grassy field with wildflowers.
“This is a beautiful view,” I say, admiring the colorful scenery.
“I’ve always loved wildflowers,” Helena admits. “Chester doesn’t give me flowers anymore.”
“Why not?” I ask.
She shakes her head back and forth with sad eyes. “Oh, honey, when you’re married for a long time, the magic dies.”
“I don’t think Dale has ever brought flowers home.” June laughs.
I sip my water. “I don’t think the magic has to die.” I may be naive on marriage, and not know a thing about it, but I still think you can keep the romance alive.
Helena laughs. “You’re still a newlywed, wait until you’ve been married a few years.”
I try to imagine myself married to Vin for years. The thought doesn’t horrify me.
The server stops by our table, and they order a grilled chicken salad, so, I follow suit. After he leaves, Helena removes her wallet from her Coach bag, which I now know was fifty dollars off, and hands me a small picture of her and Chester taken on a beach somewhere. “This is our wedding day. My bouquet was wildflowers.”
“Ah, a beach wedding.” I don’t express my views on sand, and try to take in as much as I can about the picture. “Where is this?”
“Cancun,” she says with fondness, as if she’s thinking back on a time when her and Chester fell in love. “I know, cliche, but it’s where we met.”
“How did you meet there?” I pry, wanting to hear the story to find if there’s anything that doesn’t match. Everything lines up perfect as she tells me what I already know—met during spring break, fell in love, and continued the relationship, until they graduated college and married.
As we’re finishing our meal, my phone buzzes.
“How’s the shopping?” the text from Vin reads.
“Good :) Steele will be happy when he gets the bill.”
“Don’t worry about Steele. Get what you want. Think of it as a reward for all the bullshit we’re enduring.”
Well he has a point. And I am saving money.
After lunch, we visit a few more stores, and by the time I make it back home, I have to say I’m a little high on shopping. It’s fun. I’ve never been able to buy whatever I want before. Most times I’ve gone to the mall with a budget, and usually I go in search of one item, and leave with that item.
“Honey, I’m home,” I say, barreling into the kitchen, the hub of the house.
Grubbs and Vin stand next to the island. I throw my bags on top.
“What did you buy?” Grubbs laughs. “The whole mall?”
“Just about.” I rummage through a bag, searching for the yellow dress. “Let me show you.” I pull it out and hold it up against my body. “What do you think?”
Grubbs twists his nose as if anything girly gives him hives. “Not my color.”
I scoot past him, putting the dress back in the bag. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t be wearing it.”
Vin teases me with a sexy smirk, bringing a beer bottle close to his lips. “Can’t wait to see it on.”
The air sizzles as his eyes roam over my body, and my nipples harden underneath my blouse.
I pretend I didn’t hear him and change the subject. “Why are you here, Grubbs? I know it’s not for day-drinking.”
“I was on my way out. Just dropping off a few more security equipment things. I need to get going.” He nods to Vin, and slips out through the garage.
Vin turns his attention on me. “So, show me what else you bought?”
“Really?”
He leans against the bar. “Yeah, lay it on me.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to pull out the shoes I purchased for the dress. “These go with the dress.”
For the next fifteen minutes, I’m nothing but smiles and joy as I show Vin all the things I’ve bought. “I even got you something.”
He crosses the kitchen to stand next to me. “You did?”
“I did.” I pull out the t-shirt. “I thought you might like it.”
He holds the t-shirt up, with ‘World’s Okayest Husband’ scrawled across it. “No one’s ever gotten me anything before.”
“Really?”
“No.”
He stares at me like I just cured cancer.
Is it bad I want him to kiss me again? Is it crazy that I think he just might?
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
He moves closer. “I love the shirt.”
“I thought maybe you’d think it was...whatever.” I can’t think with him in the same room. When I grabbed the shirt off the shelf, I picked it because it was funny. I doubt he’d ever just be ‘okay’ as a husband.
Vin takes his shirt and heads down into the basement, taking all the sexiness with him.
Yes, Vin would be way better than ‘okay’, and that thought scares me more than not getting this promotion.
Chapter 20
Vin
“Will there be croquet?” Addison asks on our way to Kelly’s house. “What exactly is a garden party anyway?”
“It’s just a party in the garden, that’s it.” There’s no real science to it.
“Oh, I thought there would be more to it.” She frowns over at me as we walk the short distance. “I’m a little disappointed.”
I chuckle. “There’ll be wine. That’s all that matters.”
“Get your eyes ready,” she whispers in front of Kelly’s house. “Today could be the day we find something.”
My eyes are definitely ready. It was hard leaving the house to head to this party today with the way Addison looks in her yellow dress and sandals. I wanted to rip the goddamn material off her body and take her right there in the living room when she came down the stairs this morning. If these people don’t give me something soon, I’m going to go fucking crazy.
As soon as we make it up the stone front porch steps, Addison rings the doorbell, and Kelly opens the door with a welcoming smile—wearing the same dress as Addison.
“Oh, we’re twinsies.” She laughs, and ushers us into her marble foyer. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
She leads us through a giant archway into another room, past a wood table with a giant—i.e. gaudy—display of flowers in a glass vase so tall, they’d reach the roof in a normal place, but not here with the vaulted ceilings.
My mother used to do the same thing in her house. She always said, ‘the bigger the centerpiece, the bigger the personality.’
I laugh to myself, because my mother would fit right in with this neighborhood.
After Kelly is done giving us a tour of her mausoleum home, she leads us to the backyard. “I’m going to run upstairs and change. Everyone’s out here.” She opens a set of French doors, and both Addison and I step out onto a cobblestone patio. “Be back soon.”
When she’s gone, Addison waves hello to a table where Miffie sits with Helena and June, then steps in close and stares up at me. “I’m going to snoop before she comes back down,” she says in a hushed tone. “People might think I’m Kelly at first glance and move along.”
Ah, smart.
Before she can step away, I tighten my grip around her waist. Her questioning eyes meet mine, and I lean in to graze my lips against her cheek, like a good husband who’s crazy about his wife. Not that I’m crazy about Addison, but pretending...remember?
“Be quick,” I advise.
She nods and disappears back into the house in a blur of yellow.
I stand at the edge of the patio for a moment staring at the ostentatious party taking place in the middle of the day. Mimosas are being butler-passed on silver trays by servers in suits, and the chatter from the rest of the neighborhood mingles with the music of a string quartet band playing under the shade of a gazebo. The expansive yard is dotted with round tables draped in pale pink linens, and I’ll be damned—croquet. It’s all very unnecessary. Whatever happened to a bbq with steaks and burgers?
I mosey over to a group of men, which includes Richard Patterson and Greg Sanders, both wearing ascots, like they’re about to have tea with the Queen.
I grab a server’s attention. “Can I get a beer?” I ask him, pointing to the ale Richard has in his glass. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“How are you today?” Richard asks. “I heard about you chasing down that man the other night.”
Greg nods. “I heard about it too. What would possess a man to chase down an intruder?”
“Protecting what’s his, I guess.”
“That’s why we pay the security guards,” Richard jokes. They both laugh. I don’t.
The server returns, handing me my beer in a pilsner, and I raise the cold glass to my lips and take a drink.
“Well, hopefully the asshole won’t be coming around here anymore,” Greg says. “Where’s the wife?”
“Around here somewhere.” As much as I would love to talk about Addison, I change the subject, “Richard, how’s the golf game?”
“It’s excellent. I’ll need to take you out to the club. We’ll have to get you to join.”
“That would be great,” I lie. “You know, the other night with Miffie at her snow leopard charity dinner...” I pause for effect, watching his face for signs, “she gave a great speech. Really tugged at the heartstrings.”
Richard chuckles. “Yeah, she’s good at those.”
“Where did you run off to that night?”
Greg fiddles with his ascot for a moment. “You had that work thing, right?”
Richard smiles. “Yes, a work thing came up.”
“You do mortgages, right?” I point at him, like I just remembered what he did for a living just now.
“Sure do,” he answers.
“Ah, makes sense.” Mortgages at night, right. I believe that about as much as I believe in aliens. That’s a bad example, because the possibility of aliens could be very real. I believe it as much as I believe in the Easter Bunny, that fucker isn’t real.
“Some people think of last minute details to get approved,” Richard explains.
I focus on him. “Next time I buy a house, I’ll make sure you’re the man I call. You must really care about your clients to work late at night.”
“I do what I can.”
“Speaking of,” Greg says, cutting in with something we were not speaking of, “poker night is at Rich’s house this week. You haven’t been to one yet, Vin.”
I arch a brow. “I never knew about it.”
“You need to come,” Greg encourages.
“Play for money?” I ask, tilting the beer to my lips.
“Always,” Greg fires back.
“Sure, I love taking other people’s money.”
Greg gives me the details of ‘guy’s night,’ as he calls it, and then I leave the men when I spot Kelly, now in a blue dress, all alone, by the back door of the house. She rifles through a black bag, and I cross the lawn, hoping I can gain some insight as to what Richard was up to the other night.
“Nice party,” I say as I step up beside her.
“I was just getting the balls ready,” she tells me, leaning up with a couple of said balls in her hands. “They’re big, aren’t they? Sorry I can’t help myself with sexy innuendos. I don’t mean anything by it.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Want to play with me?” There she goes again with the word play.
“Oh, croquet,” Addison remarks, reappearing with a tight-lipped grin. “I’ve always wanted to play.”
“Teams of two?” Kelly suggests with a shrug. “I’ll grab Greg.”
“Sounds fun,” Addison replies, yet no part of her voice sounds excited to play.
“Find anything?” I ask as soon as Kelly flits across the yard.
“Greg’s office,” she tells me, and then sighs. “But it was clean.”
Of course it’s clean. I’m more likely to shoot unicorns out of my ass than catch a break on this case.
I watch as Kelly saunters up to the group of men. She pulls Greg away and beckons us over to where the wickets and stakes are set up on the lawn. After a quick explanation of the rules, she pairs me with herself, and Addison with Greg.
The next twenty minutes are spent in a neck and neck game and me ready to shove Greg through the wicket for laughing like a hyena with Addiso
n. “You’ve got a great stroke,” Kelly compliments me, for the millionth time, when the game is nearly over.
Addison gives me a private little eye-roll before traipsing up to take her final shot. “That he does.” She swings her mallet back and hits the ball with enough force to send it flying.
I chuckle. Big mistake. She rests her hand on her hip and glares at me.
“Good job, baby,” I tell her.
Kelly steps forward and taps her ball through for the win.
Addison’s eyes widen and she congratulates her, but nothing for me. I decline the offer of a rematch, and whisk Addison away to get a drink. Once she has a sangria iced tea, we sit at an empty table near the band.
“You played amazing.”
She doesn’t reply, only forces a smile. June and Helena join us, and we hang out at the party until the sun sets over the Rockies.
On our way out, I ask Addison if she wants to grab dinner before we head home.
“No,” is her curt reply.
“Did you have fun today?”
“Yes.”
We step into the house. “Are you hungry? I can make dinner.”
“No.”
Something’s wrong. I can tell.
“What’s on your mind?” I lean against the kitchen counter, appreciating the view of Addison in her dress, with her long, tanned legs peeking out from under it. They go on for miles.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
She crosses her arms. “I want a divorce.”
Chapter 21
Addison
I’m jealous. I’ve never been jealous in my entire life. And I hate it. Marriage isn’t working out for me.
“You can’t divorce me,” he says, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “What about the case?”
“Well, it’s not like it’s going anywhere. The only thing I discovered today was how many ways Kelly could make an innuendo about big balls.”
And she can make a lot. More than me, I’m sure.
The point is, those balls are mine. But they’re really not. And once this is over, maybe things will shift back into place. Maybe watching him smile, all sexy and such, won’t sting like a million killer bees attacking the heart.
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