Passionate Mystery

by Elizabeth Lennox

  And who in the world was the tall, handsome guy arguing with Tallia? He looked familiar, but Becca couldn’t quite place him. Gorgeous devil though! Extremely tall and dangerous-looking with that furious, irritated look about him, as if he might strangle Tallia’s pretty neck. Or kiss it. Becca wasn’t sure what the other groomsman was considering, but the sparks were definitely flying around those two.

  Which left her…where? Alone. Feeling incredibly awkward.

  The wedding photographer rounded everyone up, getting pictures with the entire wedding party then each of the bridesmaids, paired up with the groomsman she would be walking back down the aisle with after the ceremony. That little charade wasn’t too bad, since the groomsman she took pictures with was a sweet man, happily married with three kids, and was a funny guy, ready to get the ordeal over with quickly. A few snaps and the photographer called on the next couple in the wedding party.

  Afterward, Becca moved off, looking for her friends, but Tallia had been the first to have her picture taken and she was once again arguing with the handsome guy. Jane was…still gone, as was Detective Shaw. Interesting, Becca thought, as she sipped her lukewarm coffee.

  “You look sad,” a guy commented.

  Becca turned to smile at the man, and cringed when she noticed he had a bit of spinach between his teeth. Trying not to look, and trying harder not to compare this short, slightly rotund man to the rock star she’d drunkenly bared her soul to earlier today in a fit of stupidity, she forced conversation with him. Until his wife came over and dragged him away amidst jealous glares and a lot of tugging.

  Standing by the buffet, Becca wondered how long she’d have to remain here before she could politely leave.

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” Lillian asked, joining Becca and leaning against the buffet table as well, draining her glass of champagne.

  Painfully! “No, this is nice!” Becca lied weakly.

  Lillian chuckled, obviously seeing right through her friend’s polite response. “You’re bored out of your mind. I’m hung over from earlier today. Jane is blushing at whatever Detective Shaw is whispering in her ear,” Lillian paused to allow Becca to locate the two. Sure enough, whatever the dapper detective was saying caused the ever-cautious Jane to look ready to commit murder. “And Tallia is ready to punch the lights out of Stephen Markum.”

  Becca’s head tilted at the mention of the man’s name. “Why do I know him? He looks familiar for some reason.”

  Lillian took another glass of champagne off of the tray as a waiter passed by. “He is that conservative republican commentator that hates everyone, criticizes the world and has just become syndicated nationally.”

  “Ah!” Becca replied, nodding her head as she surveyed the man in question. “Huh! I thought he’d be shorter.”

  Lillian laughed softly as she gestured with her champagne flute for a refill. “Most jerks are shorter, but Marc is one of those rare specimens that forces a woman to look up. Go figure.” She looked over at the man objectively and said, “Handsome devil, isn’t he?” and then turned to grab another glass of champagne off of a waiter’s tray.

  Becca looked at her friend, then glanced across the room at Philip. “What’s going on with your fiancé?” she asked, noticing a young brunette woman walk over and whisper something in the tall man’s ear. He was pretty handsome as well, Becca thought, different than that Markum guy, but still a hottie.

  Lillian watched as well, then drained the glass of champagne. “That’s his executive assistant. Her name is Marie and she’s incredibly efficient, very smart, and…well, she’s nice,” Lillian finished with a grimace. “Isn’t she cute?”

  Becca pulled her eyes away from the cozy couple and looked at Lillian. The woman didn’t even look upset that her fiancé was on the other side of the room with a pretty brunette whispering in his ear. Turning to face the bride-to-be fully, she looked right into Lillian’s powder blue eyes. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Lillian glance at Becca, then chuckled. Another glance at her fiancé, then she sighed. “Nothing. I’m getting married in a week.”

  Becca wasn’t convinced. This was Lillian. She always did what was right, what was expected of her. So, why was she allowing her fiancé to be with another woman at her engagement party? “And…?”

  Lillian shrugged. “And, nothing. My mother and Philip’s mother have worked very hard to make this week and next weekend’s wedding the event of the century.” Her empty champagne glass waved in the air sarcastically. “You wouldn’t believe how much those women are spending on flowers! It’s crazy!”

  Becca wasn’t sure she wanted to know, especially since her rent was due next week, and it was always a struggle. Living in New York City wasn’t cheap. But Lillian seemed to be talking and something was obviously wrong. “How much?”

  She named an amount and Becca gasped. “On flowers?”

  Lillian nodded and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Becca quickly took it out of her friend’s hand and signaled to one of the waiters by the buffet table. The man immediately hurried over, his eyes silently asking Becca what she needed. “I need two cups of coffee please.” She handed him her empty cup and saucer, hoping he’d bring back a larger cup. The waiter immediately nodded and walked away, disappearing to wherever it was that waiters went. Hopefully the kitchen, but in this huge, depressing mausoleum, anything was possible.

  Lillian rolled her eyes and tried to grab another glass of champagne but Becca stopped her, smiling to the waiter who immediately understood and quickly moved away to offer the glasses of champagne to the other guests. “I don’t want coffee,” Lillian grumbled.

  Becca pulled her friend away from the crowd. Once outside in the night air, she turned her friend so that they were facing each other and Becca could see Lillian’s eyes. “Lilly, what’s going on?”

  Lillian spotted another waiter with glasses of champagne and was just about to signal the man to come closer, but Becca grabbed her hand.

  After giving Becca an unladylike growl indicating her irritation, she crossed her arms over her stomach. “Nothing is going on!” Lillian asserted firmly. “I just…I’m thirsty.”

  Thankfully, the waiter arrived with two china cups of coffee. Unfortunately, they were those cute little demitasse cups which barely held a quarter of a cup. “Keep the coffee coming,” she told the waiter as she handed Lillian one and took the other for herself.

  “Drink!” she ordered and waited for Lillian to take a sip. “Good. Now why are you marrying a man you don’t love?” she demanded. Instantly, she saw the truth in Lillian’s eyes, which darted to the man still standing with the cute brunette on the other side of the room.

  Lillian was just about to say something when Janice, Lillian’s mother, interrupted. “Lillian, dear, you really shouldn’t be out here in the dark by yourself.”

  Becca started to say something along the lines of not being invisible, but she held her tongue when Lillian cringed. There was something going on here, something she didn’t understand. But Becca also knew that she’d need help from Tallia and Jane to get the truth out of Lillian.

  Before Lillian could defend her, Becca laid a gentle hand on her arm, stopping whatever comment was about to be spoken. A comment Becca suspected might not be very diplomatic. “I’ll go mingle with others,” Becca said, looking pointedly at Janice.

  The woman was either oblivious to the message Becca conveyed through her eyes, or simply didn’t care. Probably the latter because, if someone wasn’t a part of the elite, New Orleans society, then they didn’t exist in Janice’s eyes. Lillian had struggled with her family’s attitudes for too long and the problem wasn’t going to be solved tonight.

  So, giving Lillian some breathing room, she walked away and pretended to join another group of people. But even as she listened to the conversations milling around her, she felt alone. Alone and bereft of companions. Tallia was still arguing with that guy and Janice was literally pulling Lillian over t
o the center of the room where Phillip was standing. Thankfully, the pretty brunette wasn’t around, so Phillip had to focus on his fiancée.

  Even so, the two of them stood in front of the crowd as Lillian’s father and then Phillip’s parents offered a toast to everyone and the “happy couple”, the “happy couple” that wasn’t even holding hands, much less smiling excitedly at each other, as most about-to-be-married couples would be doing right about now.

  And unfortunately, Lillian had yet another glass of champagne in her hands, quickly downing the bubbly liquid. Phillip noticed the glossy eyes of his bride-to-be and Becca watched as his irritation showed on his handsome features. The groom-to-be was the ultimate diplomat though, and quickly wiped the irritation from his face. Finally, he took control and tugged, cajoled, and nudged Lillian into a separate room.

  Then the “happy couple” was gone. Becca looked around, feeling bereft of…everything.

  Walking over to Tallia, she touched her shoulder, but Tallia and the stranger were in an intense argument about…abortion? Who brought up politics during a social event? What craziness was this? And Tallia was vehement about her political views but…well, apparently, the other man was just as firm in his views, and the two were hot and heavy, now arguing about the road system? Umm…who had any issues with the roads?! And how had their debate shifted from abortion to traffic congestion?

  “I’m leaving,” she told Tallia’s back. Her friend glanced over her shoulder, temporarily halting her argument.

  “Oh! Um…” Tallia glanced back at the man in front of her. They’d worked their way into a more secluded area of the house, far away from the other guests but apparently neither had noticed. Interesting, Becca thought, but remained silent. This Stephen guy had gotten under Tallia’s skin. Sounds like a perfect match!

  Tallia blinked and started to move away. “I’ll come with you.”

  Becca immediately shook her head. “No, you stay and…” she glanced at the man holding a crystal glass filled with something different than the champagne that the rest of the crowd was drinking. Lucky man, she thought with increasing resentment. “Just stay and enjoy the rest of the night.”

  Before Tallia could argue further, Becca hurried away. It was obvious that Tallia and the tall guy were in a heated, tense debate that might actually morph into something…different.

  Unwilling to wait for the limousine driver to arrive, she started walking down the long driveway, calling a cab to pick her up. It was really only a few miles to the hotel and, in a crunch, she could walk it, but not in these shoes.

  Thankfully, there was a cab nearby that slid smoothly to the curb as soon as she reached the end of the gated driveway.

  Five minutes later, she stepped out of the cab, giving the driver a huge tip for taking her such a short distance, and walked into the hotel.

  Immediately, her tipsy admission from earlier in the afternoon returned to her and she stopped, frozen in place as she surveyed the lobby. She was looking for him!

  “Please don’t let him be here!” she whispered to herself.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, my dear,” Alex murmured behind her, trying very hard not to chuckle at her desire to become invisible. Not this woman, he thought. No way could any warm-blooded man miss seeing the beautiful Becca Hampton step into any room.

  “Oh,” the lovely woman jumped in surprise and he took her arm in his hand, leading her over towards the bar. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

  “You should wear a bell,” she mumbled.

  Alex laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sure that there would be some people who would appreciate your sentiment, but my stealth has served me well in the past.”

  She started to grumble something else, but he stopped and looked down at her, that almost-black eyebrow going up as he waited.

  “Never mind,” she replied, then pasted a smile on her face.

  “I think I’d very much like to mind,” he replied, but continued on towards the bar area. “Have two cups of coffee sent up to me,” he ordered the bartender. With that, he led her through a door and into what she suspected was the staff elevator.

  “How do you know that this elevator exists?”

  He turned around and looked down at her, noticing the wariness in her eyes. “There are many secrets about this hotel that I know about. How was the party?” he asked, changing the subject.

  She stared up at him and he could see the wheels turning in her brain. He remained silent, waiting for her to ask whatever heavy question was on her mind. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. “How much do you charge for a night of…” she stopped and Alex wanted to laugh. Or kiss her. Both impulses weren’t a good idea so he smothered his amusement and pulled back slightly.

  “I doubt you could afford my fees,” he said, playing along.

  She shifted slightly, looking at the floor numbers as they lit up over his shoulder while the elevator ascended. He could see the debate going through her mind, the challenge and the fear. But in the end, her curiosity, or maybe it was something more, won out. “Try me,” she finally replied.

  He chuckled, but he couldn’t resist playing her game. She was beautiful and determined to think of him only as a gigolo. “What if I’m not a gigolo?”

  She huffed a bit, and ducked under his arm. “If you’re not, then I need to go. I’m not looking for a relationship. Especially not with someone in New Orleans.”

  He turned around, following her retreat so that he could look down at her, leaning his shoulders back against the back wall of the elevator, his arms crossed over his chest. She wasn’t going anywhere. Even if the elevator doors opened up. “Why is that?”

  She shifted on her feet and he took a moment to enjoy the way her bottom looked in the black satin, one shoulder dress. The hem stopped just above her knees, but there was nothing demure about the style. It was sexy and edgy and looked incredibly enticing on her slender figure. “Because my life is in New York.”

  “And you like the hustle and bustle of the city life?”

  “No,” she replied quickly, then realized what she’d just said and turned. “I mean…yes. It’s fine. It’s just…” she shook her head and the glossy sheen of her hair shimmered in the overhead lights. “I just…don’t want any romance. And I don’t even want a male escort,” she explained but he could see the wariness in her eyes. “I just was wondering. You know,” she shrugged, staring back up at the numbers indicating which floor the elevator was passing, “just curious about your fees and…well, what you actually do with women.”

  The elevator dinged and he put a hand to the small of her back, guiding her through the door and into another quiet area. He nodded to one of the uniformed waiters who was just walking out of a doorway, pushing a coffee cart minus the coffee service.

  “This way, my dear.”

  Becca hesitated just outside the doorway, causing him to stop and turn around. “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed, feeling silly, but….

  “I watch way too many crime shows to willingly enter a strange man’s hotel room.”

  Alex once again stared at her for a long moment before laughing. “You really are delightful, Ms. Hampton.” She blinked and he took her hand. “Never fear, my dear. The waiter has seen you. He knows who you are and what time you entered my room. So if anything happens to you, he’ll immediately go to the police. Does that reassure your cautious mind?”

  Becca glanced back at the waiter, who bowed slightly. Was he laughing at her as well? Impossible! Surely he wasn’t…

  She stiffened her shoulders and turned away from the guy, stepping into the room. When she looked around, gone was the ostentatious décor that seemed ever-present in and around New Orleans. In this space, a much more relaxed atmosphere prevailed. Still elegant, but none of the ritzy, ornate details that seemed to be all over New Orleans in general and this hotel in particular. And the man hadn’t put up a Christmas tree, she noticed. Not even a red bow. Not a single Christma
s decoration anywhere in sight.

  For some reason, that made her sad. But perhaps he didn’t need any decorations when he lived so close to the hotel and walked by all of the ornate decorations hung up around the halls and lobby.

  “This is nice,” she remarked, relaxing as she took in the darker colors, brick walls and less frou frou pictures.

  “Thank you,” he replied, pouring two cups of coffee. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

  She glanced over at him and shook her head. “If I drink coffee now, I’ll never get to sleep.”

  “Exactly my plan,” he teased, but brought her a cup anyway. “It’s decaf. The wait staff know never to bring me regular coffee at this time of the night.”

  She took the cup and saucer, even more curious now. “You must charge a lot of money for your time to be able to afford living in this hotel.”

  “I get by,” he replied with a slight shrug of one shoulder.

  Spinning around, she confronted him. “Tell me the truth. How much do you make a night?”

  He tilted his head and she suspected that he wasn’t going to answer her, which didn’t make any sense since she was here in his suite.

  But in the end, he named an amount and she gasped, shocked by the number. “Really? That much?”

  He took her hand and led her over to the sofa, waving for both of them to sit down. “Sometimes more, sometimes less. Depends on what is happening in the hotel.”

  “Wow!” She took an absent sip of her coffee. “I think I should change careers.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “I doubt you’d survive in my business. It’s a bit cutthroat.”

  That was interesting news. Were there that many men for hire in New Orleans? And maybe the same number in New York? This was a whole new industry she’d never really contemplated. “I wouldn’t have thought there was a big need for your industry.”

  He nodded, that mysterious smile still in place. “There’s a huge need for what I offer,” he replied. “Especially during the tourist seasons.”