by Harms, C. A.
Suddenly feeling like I am interfering in their moment, I stand and walk toward the bar for another drink. I ignore the interested stares from a few ladies as I move through the crowd.
Stepping up to the bar, I place my empty glass on the counter and motion for another to the bartender. After a quick nod of his head, I look back out over the crowd and scan the area. My parents are dancing near the edge of the floor. Cousins, uncles, and aunts fill the rest of the space. People are laughing and talking and having a good time in general as they enjoy the music playing softly.
Letting my gaze drop to the floor while waiting for my drink, I feel once again caught up in the moment.
“Casey, I need another dirty martini and two vodka and cranberries.” I don’t look up right away, but admire the long, slender, fit to perfection legs that appear at my side, legs that look like they go on forever, toned, tan, perfect heart-shaped calves. I have always had a thing for women’s legs, and this are a great set of them, no doubt.
“Get your fill yet?”
I lift my gaze and am met with the most unique shade of blue eyes I have ever seen. Even though the beauty is scowling at me, I am still floored though I recover fast.
“Does one ever truly get their fill when looking at you? Because I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure that is possible.”
“Cheesy.” She looks away from me and I can’t help but chuckle at her feistiness. “Something funny?” The gorgeous woman asks without even looking in my direction.
“Not at all.” I’m not sure she even hears me as she spins around with a tray of drinks in hand and walks toward a table. My eyes follow her the entire way.
“You gotta watch out for that one.” I look back over my shoulder to see the bartender smiling. “Tinley is a bit of a ball buster. I swear she has fangs.”
Tinley. Even her name is unique.
“She’s a ‘take no shit’ kind of girl,” the guy adds, “also unreasonable, mouthy, and independent. She doesn’t really trust men, though, never falls for their advances. I’ve known her for close to six months and I can honestly say I’ve never seen her even blush when a man hits on her at these parties. And just so we’re clear, they hit on her often.”
I can hear the guy rambling, but caught very little of his warning. Call it second nature, hell I don’t know, maybe it was the chase, but the idea of a challenge excites me.
“See something, or someone, you like?” Ashton stepped around me and looked in Tinley’s direction.
“Did you hire a company to cater this shindig?” I need to know how to go about ensuring I see this spitfire again.
“You’ll have to talk to Lexington about that.” I hang my head, knowing what that would entail. With Lex, nothing is ever easy. “He set everything up with my wife. But just so we’re clear right now, I will not be putting on any type of show for him in return for him getting you info.”
Lexington Russell is my brother’s secretary, best friend to Kinsley and Shanelle, and the biggest fan of the Montgomery men. The last part was no fucking joke. Lex loved us, as in loved to get us riled up, flustered, and half-naked. Again, no fucking joke. The guy was a menace.
Chapter Three
Tinley
I step inside my apartment and wrinkle my nose immediately. The same closed-up, musty smell hits me; it always lingers from the old, aged building I live in. I walk over to the small kitchenette and light the two candles I have sitting on my stove. Then I turn toward the bedroom, also considered the living room, and light the third one on my nightstand.
I live in a dump. Okay, that is stretching it. Even a dump is a compliment for this disaster. It is one room, all open, and cluttered. I am the only person I know who can sit on my bed and practically wash my dishes in the sink. That is really no joke. Oh, and if I lean the opposite direction, I can flush my toilet.
Like I said, disaster. It is no surprise why my rent is so very low: this apartment is the smallest in the building, and sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t at one time a storage closet now converted to a living space.
Working as often as I could for Devine Catering and at Griffin’s Cafe, attending school full-time, and still finding time to sleep somewhere in between was the life I lived. So for now this place is all I can afford.
Walking around the end of my tiny twin bed, I flip on the shower and pull the curtain shut. Stripping out of my clothes and letting them fall to the floor, I step in and let the warm water cascade over my face. My feet are killing me after hours of being in heels and having to run all over to serve people one drink after another. I hated weddings: no tips, horny drunk men, and even snobbier women all traipsing around in fancy dresses and expensive shoes while they looked at girls like me as if we were nothing more than trash. was a little different, though, and I must say I was heavily surprised. The guests were friendly, offering pleases and thank you’s. At the end of the night, as a group, we were met by a tall man by the name of Lexington who offered each of the servers a hundred-dollar tip. With my hourly pay and the tip, the event was well worth my achy feet. Apparently, the man who got married was some multimillionaire and was so happy with our services and his new wife’s happiness that we were all rewarded.
To think there was actually a man out there who feels his wife’s happiness means everything to him. In my eyes, all men are selfish and overpowering, but I’m tainted by my past, so to be reminded that not everyone is like Rob is a nice change.
With my eyes closed, I remember the various men who stared, smiled, and nodded in my direction as I served their drinks throughout the evening. There was one in particular who stayed at the forefront of my mind. I didn’t specifically wait on him, yet his face lingered in my thoughts…that strong jaw and the confidence that rolled off him in waves. Then there were his eyes: alluring, captivating, and the most gorgeous shade of Caribbean blue. He was gorgeous, but as usual I pushed when he tried to flirt and walked away without looking back. Believe me, I wanted to look back. It was next to impossible not to.
The water began to cool as it always did five minutes into my shower, so I hurry to finish, rinsing my hair and body just as a shiver racked through me from the temperature change. Flipping the handle down, I push open the curtain and reach for my towel quickly, securing it around my body. I dried off before wrapping the towel around my wet hair, and seek out my robe, fastening it in place.
The time is just after midnight, and though I know I should probably get some sleep before getting up at seven a.m. to go to Griffin’s for my morning shift, I also have a paper I need to write for my professor. Sitting on my bed, I gather my bag and dump the contents onto my comforter. Stretching out my arm, I tap the button on the coffee pot and open my old laptop, knowing it will take a good ten minutes before it loads up and is ready to use.
Staring out the small window to my left I get lost in the lights of the city. The occasional sounds of traffic, horns, or the main door to the building opening then slamming hard again surround me. They are all sounds I had grown accustomed to.
I know without a doubt that had I asked my parents for help in getting a better apartment, they wouldn’t have hesitated. They’d offered more times than I could count, but each time I’d tell them I was good. The fact is I want to do this on my own; I have to. They were already paying for my tuition, and had lost money during my transfer from one college to the next. It was a pride thing, I think, a need to take care of myself, a way to gain back what had once been stripped from me.
I had vowed to never again feel weak, to never feel dependent on another person. I refused to ever find myself in a compromising situation again, which is why I choose to avoid men altogether. It is better this way.
Tears cloud my vision as I tuck my legs tighter and wrapped my arms securely around them. I hate when my thoughts become clouded with my past. I was young, blinded by my first love, and in the process, I’d missed so many signs. When others tried to tell me Rob wasn’t who I thought he was, I ignored them too. In my eyes al
l I saw was the good, I saw who he was in those moments we were alone, and that was all I wanted to see.
Then I was in too deep, trapped in his crazy life, swarmed by his possessive nature. I quickly realized that the only way out was to seek legal help. But even that didn’t stop him from hurting me. It didn’t stop him from sweeping in and reminding me that he was the man everyone tried telling me he was. A coward, a monster, and the one who haunts my dreams.
Sometimes my life gets lonely. I have friends, those I’ve made since I arrived in New York, at school, or even at the various jobs I’ve worked. But there is no deep connection, no family, no one close enough that I feel I can confide in.
It was just me, on my own.
Chapter Four
Knoxville
“I know he’s been sleeping with her.” I try to focus on the computer screen footage before me instead of on the raging bitch sitting across from me at my desk. “He’s not been getting home until late every evening. He gets random messages on his phone at all hours of the night. All the damn beeping and vibrating like he thinks turning off the ringing will actually make me less aware.”
I press my finger to my lips, hard, trying to keep myself from saying things I may later regret.
Mrs. Hallows is in my office for the third time this week and it’s only Wednesday. She’s a privileged housewife, one who spends all her time in salons, drinking by the pool working on her tan, or in spas being pampered. Her husband, the poor bastard, works his ass off day and night to give her the best of everything, yet all she wants to do is complain on a daily basis that he isn’t spending enough time with her. What I really want to tell her is to stop spending all the man’s money and maybe he won’t have to work overtime to make up for his losses.
“He was seen with her at a café, and then again just outside their office building in what I’ve been told was a more than a friendly embrace.”
This is the part of being an independent private investigator that I hate the most. I never expected to be babysitting men and even women who were traipsing around the city having elicit affairs. But in Mr. Hallows’ defense, the man is doing nothing wrong. He loves his wife, obviously, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why. She is a snob, ungrateful and spoiled.
“I’ve gone over hours of footage, sat outside the building day in and day out, I’ve even gotten access to the security cameras in his building.” I look away from the computer and find her staring at me with a determined look on her face. “I can assure you the man is doing his job. There hasn’t been one ounce of evidence that he has at any point in time been unfaithful to you.” She started to interrupt but I hold up my hand and continue. “I’ve gone through his phone records, his text messages, emails in and out of his server, and they are all work related. There is no connection between him and Dorothy Sanders. She is simply a colleague who, I might add, is very happily married and twelve years your husband’s elder.”
“Then why is he gone all the time? What is he doing at the office every night until nine or ten?”
“Working.” The word sounds condescending, I know, but what the hell is wrong with this woman? “Your husband is a successful attorney, he’s doing nothing more than providing a service to his clients and offering only the best for you.”
I want to follow this up with the idea of her getting a job and maybe realizing that the world does not, in fact, revolve around her, but I change my mind. Shit like this keeps me going during times when nothing more pressing is sitting on my desk. I need to remember that.
“I recommend that you visit your husband at work, maybe ask him to lunch. Talk to him about the concerns you have.” She arched her brow. “I think if he knows that you’re feeling neglected,” I almost chuckle at the word as I look over her high-priced clothes, top dollar manicure, and perfectly placed hair that I’m sure she spends far too much on, “he’ll do whatever he can to ensure that those feelings are tended to. No man that truly loves his woman likes to know that they aren’t completely happy and secure.”
A line of bullshit, that’s what it is time for. Anything to get this woman out of my office and off my fucking back.
“Mr. Hallows is a lucky man.” My jaw twitched from the words. “Maybe he just needs to be reminded of that.”
She seems pleased, her gaze softening just a bit as she smiles back at me. “Thank you.” She winks, standing from the chair and leaning over to place her hand over my own. I ignore the way she allows her blouse to sag, giving me a clear view of her bright red lacy bra. “That means a lot.” As she turns to leave my office, I wonder if Mr. Hallows shouldn’t be the one who is concerned with his wife’s infidelity. That poor, poor bastard.
* * *
As I exit the glass elevator onto the top floor of Montgomery Enterprises, Lex comes into view. He’s instantly aware of my arrival as he peeks up over his tall desk with a sparkle in his eye.
Did I mention how over the top my brother’s secretary is?
Sandy blond hair, bright red tips, spiked, and in my opinion looking ridiculous. He never does anything mildly. I won’t get into his clothing…let’s just say he loves silver and wears it often. I’m talking sparkling silver that glimmers under the lighting of the office.
“I detect some Montgomery hotness.” His voice echoes through the open space, followed by what sounds like a cat’s meow. “I swear to it, the three of you carry this essence that any warm-blooded woman, or in my case fabulous man, can detect instantly.”
“Good afternoon, Lex.” I try to rein in the urge to roll my eyes at him. Beckett was easy to rile up, and Lex knows this. He feeds on it, but me, I let it roll off knowing that if I give in and give him what he wanted, it would only feed his urge to do it more often. “I brought you a coffee.” I place the latte, or whatever the fuck the barista called it, on the top ledge of his desk. “The woman at Starbucks said it was a popular choice.”
“What a nice surprise, you sweet adorable man.” Lexington grabs the cup, lifts it to his nose, and takes in a deep breath. “Mm, is that caramel?” The way he lets “caramel” roll off his tongue as he looks up at me only makes me chuckle.
“I do believe so,” I added, leaning over the counter and getting just a little closer. “So now that I’ve provided you with a treat, you can answer one question for me.”
“Yes, I would love to help you wash your back.” He winks, and I hang my head, shaking it at him. “Normally I am a little harder to get, but you know me, I can’t resist the Montgomery men. They are my weakness.”
“Thanks for the offer, Lex, and though it is extremely hard for me to decline, because let’s face it you are Fabulous,” he nods in full agreement, “I just need the name of the catering service you used for Ashton and Kinsley’s reception.”
“Are you throwing a party?” His face lights up with the possibility.
I want to tell him no, but I know doing so would only make it harder to obtain the information I was seeking. So an idea hit me. “I was thinking about booking them for an anniversary party for my parents.”
Again, Lexington grows excited as he wiggles around in his chair.
“I know it’s a month away, but I was thinking that us boys could plan a surprise party for them.”
“One condition.” There was always a condition with Lex. I wave my hand motioning for him to get on with it and his eyes widen with excitement. “You let me help plan this event.”
“Sure,” I say, knowing full well that I now have no other option but to follow through with this party. But it couldn’t be all that bad. I mean, if it brought back the blue-eyed beauty with the kick ass set of legs, then it was a win for sure.
Chapter Five
Tinley
“Will you stop being such a bore?” Nora places her hand to the center of my back and pushes me forward. “Just one drink, and then you can go home and hide away in your little shoebox.”
“I’ve been on my feet all day,” I complain, giving her reason after reason as
to why stopping for a drink in some stuffy bar is the last thing I want to do. “I just wanted to take a shower and climb into bed.”
“Exactly,” she singsongs. “Boring.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her. After she nudges me inside, I pause and look around. It isn’t the loud, hard music, bodies bumping and grinding together kind of place. This bar is more upscale, low lights and low music playing through surround sound with a huge bar that is L-shaped. The bartenders behind it are wearing ties and vests. It is mostly definitely not her normal choice of hangouts.
“What gives?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and turning to face her.
“I knew you wouldn’t want to go to any of the regular places.” I can sense she was leaving out the real reason behind this adventure. When she tries to step around me, I side-stepped to block her and her eyes meet mine in a nervous stare down. “Oh my god, are you always this difficult?”
Before I can answer her question, she laughs. Um, hello, yes, it is me and I am challenging to say the least.
“You are such a pain in my ass,” she huffs as she tucks her chin toward her chest and leans in to me a little closer. “See the guy behind the bar?” I start to turn around and she grabs my shoulders to stop me. “Wait, don’t look.” Why would anyone ask if I see something then tell not to look? She is acting like a nervous high school girl, so out of character. “His name is Drake and he’s in my business course.”
“Can I look now?”
“No,” she gives me a pointed stare, “you can’t make it obvious. We’ll casually get a table and order a drink. I don't want him thinking I am here just because its where he works.”
