by Sloane, Roxy
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that from me,” I reassure her. “I just want to take a look around. This company might be part of a story I’m working on.”
“Sure,” Tasha shrugs. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“You let me do something with that hair.”
I pick up a lock of straggly, unwashed hair and grimace. “Deal.”
*
It takes me and Tasha a full hour to transform me from ‘miserable wallowing’ to ‘semi-hot chick’, but by the time the Towne Car arrives to pick us up and take us to the party, I can just about pass for a wannabe actress/model/hostess. I’m squeezed into one of my roommate’s glittery dresses, with fake eyelashes and my hair all mussed up in a messy bun.
Who would have guessed undercover reporting would require so much mascara?
“My school should have offered these kinds of classes as part of their journalism major,” I giggle, squeezing into the backseat next to Tasha. “How to get your story and walk in four-inch heels.”
“Shh,” Tasha says softly. She nods to the driver.
Shit.
I shut up quickly. I didn’t even think, but of course, this car was sent by the company too. All the drivers are on the payroll, and although it doesn’t look like he’s paying attention to us here in the back seat, I can’t take any chances.
“Thanks,” I whisper. Tasha winks.
“Here, your lip gloss is smudged,” she says loudly, wiping the corner. “What do you think of the UltraGloss range? I like the color, but it totally dries me out...”
As she chats away about makeup, I go over my plan for the night. I haven’t entirely wasted the past few days moping. I also followed my editor’s advice, and did some more research on Dax’s businesses and history. The city records showed me that this Nikolai guy was listed as an original investor in one of Dax’s first enterprises, a bar in Brooklyn. His name was on a property deed attached to the bar, but when it came time to re-register a year later, it was nowhere to be found.
From what I’ve discovered down by the waterfront, Dimas is in real estate, with plenty of money to burn, but it seems like this guy has a bad reputation. I guess it makes sense that Dax would get out of business with him as soon as possible, but that doesn’t explain what he’s doing back in his life again.
Maybe if I can figure it out, Dax will forgive me. It’s a long shot, I know, but I also know I’ve done wrong by lying to him. He’s keeping just as many secrets, but if I can even the scales and be useful for a change, then maybe it will help make up for my betrayal. And perhaps this Nikolai guy is the real story, not the club. I know I have nothing but questions right now, but my reporter’s instincts are telling me, something’s going on. ‘Always follow the money,’ an old professor always told us, and this Nikolai guy has plenty. He could be the key to everything.
By the time the car pulls up at a swank building in Tribeca, I’ve got my plan all figured out. I’ll nose around, see if I can get close to this Nikolai guy, or one of his business partners. If I keep my eyes and ears open, I know I can find something that might be useful to Dax.
Anything to get him to give me the time of day.
Or something more...
I push away the blazing memories of our elevator hook-up, and follow Tasha out of the car and through the gleaming doors. “Events like this, we just pretend to be regular guests,” she fills me in. We’re ushered across a marble lobby and into an elevator heading for the penthouse suite. The car is full of glamorous-looking women, and Tasha nods greetings to a few. “Smile, mingle, look like you’re having a good time,” she continues. “Basically, act like the guy you’re talking to is the most fascinating person in the room.”
“Newbie?” a statuesque blonde asks.
Tasha nods. “I’m just showing her the ropes. Oh, and if anyone asks, just say you’re interning someplace, like a PR firm. They love it when you’re an intern.”
“Because God forbid I say I’m a psychology PhD candidate with a Masters in sociology,” the blonde drawls. “His dick might just shrivel up on the spot.”
We all laugh.
“OK, for tonight, I’m interning at...a real estate company,” I decide. I figure I’ve watched enough episodes of House Hunters to be able to wing it. “What about you?”
“Oh, I tell the truth,” Tasha beams. “They love that I’m an actress.”
Figures.
The elevator stops, and we all get out -- right into the middle of a magazine photo-shoot. At least, that’s what it feels like. The penthouse is set right in the middle of the action, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the glittering New York City lights. The apartment is packed with people in designer clothes, mingling and sipping champagne, and as I look around, a waiter glides past with an amazing-looking platter of sushi.
“Wow,” I whisper to Tasha. “Thanks for loaning me this outfit. I would have been way underdressed.”
“I told you, they’re splashing money around like crazy. Hosting events every week.” Tasha plucks a couple of glasses of champagne from a nearby table and passes me one. “Don’t drink too much,” she warns me. “Just sip it.”
I check the bottle. Dom Perignon. There must be two dozen bottles lined up. Plus the catering, penthouse rental, staff...
Tasha’s right. There’s serious money here. Which means serious potential for a story.
“Ooh, there’s Miles,” Tasha says, waving to a nerdy-looking guy across the room. He lights up, and cuts towards us. “Tech billionaire,” she tells me quickly. “Sweet, but totally awkward.”
“Hi, Tasha!” Miles reaches us. He’s wearing a rumpled plaid polo shirt and khakis, and at any other party he probably would have been asked to leave by now. But I guess there are perks to being a billionaire. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know anyone.”
“Well now you do, this is my friend Zoe.”
“Hello, Zoe.” Miles sticks out his hand, and I shake it. “Are you an actress like Tasha?” he asks eagerly.
“No, I’m an intern,” I reply brightly. “If you guys will excuse me...”
But of course, Miles is gazing adoringly at Tasha like there’s nobody else in the room. I take my cue and slip away, doing a slow circuit of the party to get the lay of the land.
I feel a buzz of excitement, all my undercover instincts back again. It was fun, sneaking around at the club, and now I’m doing the same thing here, keeping an eagle eye out for anything suspicious or any details that can be useful to me.
It’s definitely weird. Everywhere I look, glamorous young women are smiling and laughing with older, rich-looking guys. But they’re all paid to be here, flirting. For what? To make the men feel comfortable? I know it’s not like they’re going home with them, but still, it’s just odd.
Or is this just how it works in this world? I have no idea, but either way, I’m glad it gives me some cover tonight. I can just stroll around alone, and nobody will think I’m out of place.
I pull out my phone and check the research on Nikolai. Information was pretty thin on the ground, but I did find a recent photo of him at a ceremony to break ground on some development. I check the picture, then search the room for his salt and pepper hair and foreboding stare.
Bingo.
He’s over in the corner on a couch, deep in conversation with a clean-cut man in his forties. The other guy looks kind of uncomfortable, but I can see Nikolai is laying on the charm, laughing and chatting. He beckons over a tough-looking security guy and whispers in his ear. A moment later, the security guy returns with two gorgeous women. They take a seat, and begin flirting with both men.
I edge closer. The clean-cut guy is relaxing now, as he gulps champagne. Now that I have a better view, I realize, he looks kind of familiar...
I surreptitiously lift my phone and snap a quick photo, then I duck around the corner to take a closer look. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, and I scan back through my mind. The newspaper, or
TV, or--
I stop. I know where I’ve seen him: City Hall. He’s on the city council, a politician. Andrew something...
I quickly google, and find the result.
Andrew Landsley. Rumored to be running for mayor soon.
Interesting.
I tuck my phone away and step back out into the party. All of Nikolai’s focus is on this one guy, so mine should be too. I casually stroll over, pretending to check out the view as I get within eavesdropping distance.
“...You’ve got to think of the jobs,” Nikolai is saying. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m an environmentalist too. Save the planet, you know. But at the end of the day, it’s the hard-working people of this city who need our help. Yours and mine.”
An environmentalist? I hide a snort. Sure, I bet he’s separating paper and plastic every night.
But Andrew is eating it up. “Preservation is important,” he nods. “That’s why I can’t in all good conscience support the rezoning. That land is a habitat to all kinds of endangered wildlife. I’ve seen studies--”
“Studies?” Nikolai interrupts. “Psh. Anyone can get a study done. I bet they’re telling you it polls well, too?”
Andrew nods. “Concern about the environment is a top priority for youth voters.”
“But what about the rest of us?” Nikolai replies. “Youth voters aren’t trying to put food on the table.”
“Touché,” Andrew tips his glass. “But they’re the ones getting me elected next year.”
Nikolai chortles with laughter, and the girls join in. “You’re a smart man, I’ll give you that. Always working the angles. But answer me this: are those granola-crunching kids going to pay for your campaign? Votes are one thing, but we both know, it takes a lot of money to get on their radars before Election Day.”
He looks up, and catches me watching them.
I turn back to the view and sip my champagne, hoping he’ll keep talking, but instead, Nikolai gets up.
“You know, that’s enough business for now,” he says, shooting Landsley a slimy grin. “Why don’t I introduce you to a few people? Rich people, with deep pockets, and an interest in local politics.”
Landsley chuckles. “Hey now, don’t go talking like that. This is all above board. I’m hearing you out, is all.”
“Of course.” Nikolai steers him away. “We’re all just having a little fun.”
I watch them go, an uneasy feeling taking root in the pit of my stomach. Andrew Landsley seems relaxed, but Nikolai’s looking at him like a shark circling its prey. Andrew may think he’s just chatting to an interested businessman, but I can tell, Nikolai’s got other plans.
Plans that somehow connect to Dax.
I quickly head back to Tasha, who’s surrounded by guys. “Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go,” I tell her.
“What’s the rush?” One of the guys leers at me. “Have another drink.”
“I can’t. My, umm, boss called me back in,” I say quickly. “Being an intern is the worst!”
I hurry away, already itching to hit up google and find out everything I can. This story is getting more complicated by the minute, but I’m determined to unravel the pieces. Money, power, real estate... It’s got all the makings of a front page story, I just need Dax to fill in the blanks.
Impulsively, I flag down a cab and direct him to Dax’s apartment. Things didn’t exactly go as planned the last time I showed up, but this is different. Now, I have something he can use.
Besides my body.
My stomach twists in knots as the cab drives across town. I don’t know why I need this guy to listen to me, but I do. Something about Dax has thrown me off-balance; ever since I met him, I’ve been making stupid mistakes, distracted even more from my goals. But the more I get to know him, the more I see his true character -- and feel this crazy connection between us.
It doesn’t make any sense, but something keeps drawing me back to him. Making me want to change his mind, and show I’m not just a lying, cheating girl who was using him to get ahead.
We pull up outside his apartment, and I pay the driver, climbing out. I take a deep breath, bracing myself to go ring the bell, but instead, the door flies open and Dax comes charging out.
He’s looking wildly around, clutching his phone. His expression is panicked.
“Dax? What’s wrong?” I ask, scared. I’ve never seen him look like this before.
He blinks, noticing me for the first time. And whatever it is that’s happened, it’s enough to make him forget he swore to never speak to me again.
“It’s Maria,” he says, face ashen. “There’s been an accident.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAX
I push through the hospital doors, looking wildly around. The late-night waiting room is packed, but I cut straight through the crowd to the front desk.
“I need to find a patient,” I demand, my pulse thundering in panic.
The nurse at the desk doesn’t even look at me. She holds up her finger for me to wait while she speaks on the phone.
My blood boils. “This is an emergency!” I growl.
She rolls her eyes. “It always is.”
The nurse turns her back on me, laughing into the phone. I open my mouth, about to rip her a new one, when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Zoe. I’d almost forgotten she was here.
“It’s OK,” she says, soothing. “We’ll figure it out. You said she was in the ER?”
I nod. “They didn’t say why. Nobody would tell me anything.” I clench my fists in frustration. I feel so powerless, not knowing what’s going on.
“So we’ll find her.” Zoe looks around. “Look, the ER is this way.”
She heads purposefully away. I follow her blindly down the maze of neon-lit hallways, thinking only of one thing. Maria. The guy on the phone didn’t say why she was here, but I know her. She wouldn’t call for me unless it was bad.
Fuck, what’s happened to her? She’s like a sister to me. I’ve spent years looking out for her and her son, they’re the closest thing I have to family. If she’s hurt, or worse...
My imagination runs riot, picturing all the terrible things that could have happened.
I pick up the pace, bursting into the ER after Zoe. I spot Maria’s dark hair across the busy room. She’s laying on a gurney, looking terrifyingly pale.
“What happened?” I go straight to her, my heart in my throat. “Maria, God, are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” she answers with a weak smile. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Where’s Luca?” I ask, struck with new fear. God, I didn’t even think... “Did something happen to him?”
“No, relax, he’s fine,” Maria reassures me. “He’s with my mom.”
That’s something, at least.
Someone clears his throat. There’s a kid in a white coat loitering nearby. “You need to stand back. I have to check her blood pressure.”
“You’re not touching her.” I glare. What kind of doctor is this? He’s barely out of his teens. “Call your boss, or supervisor, or whoever. I want a real doctor.”
“Dax...” Maria protests.
“No,” I cut her off, then turn to the kid. “Do you know what happened? Tell me everything.”
“I... umm...” The kid looks panicked. “I can’t...patient confidentiality.”
“I fell.” Maria speaks up, answering for him. “It was an accident, it’s OK. I just hit my head, that’s all. Everyone just needs to relax”
I check her expression. She tries to smile, but she glances away at the last minute. I’ve known her too long not to be able to see right through her.
There’s something she’s not telling me.
“You go get a real doctor,” I order the kid. “I want everything checked. Twice. And tell them to find a private room for her, she shouldn’t be out here.”
“Sure. Yes.” The kid scurries away.
Maria sighs. “You didn’t have to do that, he was fine.”
“Fine isn�
��t good enough.” I turn back to her, carefully fluffing her pillow and tucking her blanket tighter. Maria bats away my hands.
“I’m fine!”
“So you keep saying.” I pull up a chair by the gurney and take her hand. “What aren’t you telling me? What happened, Maria? You’re lying, I can tell.”
She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not lying. I did fall. I just...this guy came to see me,” she finally admits. “He said he had a message from Nikolai. For you.”
Fuck.
I go cold. “What did he say? If he laid a finger on you--” I start to get up, but Maria pulls me back.
“No, he didn’t. He scared me, that’s all,” Maria insists. “I ran and tripped, and when I fell I hit my head.”
“You fell and hit your head?” I repeat. “You expect me to believe that?” I’m fuming.
Maria laughs out loud, and though it’s a forced sound, something in my chest loosens for a moment. “I swear it’s the truth, Dax. I know how stupid it sounds, but that’s what happened.” I search her eyes for a lie, but although she’s clearly shaken up, she’s telling the truth.
Still, my stomach twists at the thought of one of Nikolai’s heavies showing up on her doorstep, scaring her bad enough that she took off running. What the hell is Nikolai doing, dragging her into this mess?
“He said to tell you, Nikolai’s getting impatient.” Maria looks nervous. “Those were his exact words. What’s going on, Dax? I thought you were long gone from business with him.”
“I am. Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “He’s just trying his luck. It won’t work.”
“Nikolai doesn’t believe in luck,” Maria says softly. I forget, she’s seen it all, I can’t just brush it off with her.
She knows exactly the kind of dirt Nikolai is mixed up in -- and how it can destroy lives.
She looks past me, looking interested. “And who’s the girl?”
I turn. Zoe is waiting across the room. I completely forgot she was standing there watching. Listening. Probably thinking how to work this into a story. “Nobody,” I reply shortly.
