Club Prive Book 4 (2 page)

“Carrie. Earth to Carrie!”

I jumped, startled. Krissy stood in front of me, an amused expression on her face.

“Where in the world did you go just now and can I join you?”

I flushed. I’d been having a difficult time concentrating all day. If I wasn’t being distracted by thoughts of what Gavin and I were going to be doing all weekend, it was the memory of my “conversation” with him the night before. Before I’d left for lunch, I’d had to borrow panties from my recently replenished back-up pack and change in the bathroom, because the underwear I’d put on this morning was thoroughly soaked.

“Never mind,” Krissy said with an eye roll. “You were thinking about Gavin. It was dumb of me to ask.”

I let the comment stand. No need to let her know the details. She’d never let me live it down if she found out I’d had phone sex in the living room while she’d been asleep in her bedroom.

“I have dresses for you to try on.” She held out an armful of dresses that ranged from simple to glamorous. The bathing suits she’d already selected were hanging up on the rack the boutique owner had given me when I’d arrived. And, yes, that was
suits
, plural. While I was still uncomfortable spending Gavin’s money, Krissy didn’t seem to have a problem with it. She’d insisted that I get three different suits so I’d have one for Saturday, one for Sunday, and a back-up, just in case. I wondered if Gavin had known what he’d gotten himself into by letting Krissy come with me.

I took the dresses into the back room and Krissy followed. This wasn’t a typical dressing room where there were half a dozen tiny rooms with doors. This boutique was the kind that had just two large rooms, both split in half so that one person could change, then come out into the other half of the room and model for whoever was out there. I’d never seen anything like it. Then again, I’d never been in a clothing store that had to buzz you in, and sold everything from lingerie and bathing suits to sundresses and evening gowns.

“So, how many women do you think Gavin sends here?” Krissy’s tone was conversational, but I could hear the negative undercurrent.

“How long have you wanted to ask that question?” I pulled on the first dress and immediately frowned. Definitely not. I took it off and hung it on the “discard” hanger.

“Since you told me he has an account here,” she admitted. “He probably sends his escorts from the club here before they meet their billionaire dates. Makes sure they have the slinkiest dresses and sexiest lingerie.”

“It’s not like that,” I said. I zipped up the side of the dress. Not bad. The color was good and it fit well without being too tight. I stepped out to let Krissy see how it looked.

“If you say so.” Krissy shrugged. She nodded as she gave me a once-over. “That’s a keeper.”

“I thought you liked Gavin,” I said as I went back into the room to try on the next one.

“I do,” Krissy said. “But I don’t like that he has an account at a boutique. Just seems a bit shady to me.”

“He said you can get something too.” I’d forgotten to tell her that.

“Oh, well, in that case...”

I could imagine her grinning and laughed softly. Maybe Gavin had known what he was doing with her. I went out in the next dress, a cute pale blue sundress.

“Maybe,” she said.

I went back to switch it out for a dark green mini-dress. “Hey, I almost forgot, you know how Mimi had me looking through those pictures of Howard with the different women?”

“Yeah?”

“I did a follow-up on one of them, Patricia Vinarisky.” I scowled as I tried to reach the zipper and failed. I stepped out and turned around. Krissy didn’t need me to ask, so I continued with my story as she zipped me up. “Turns out, she came to the city three years ago when she was just eighteen, and ended up getting signed to some modeling agency a few months later. The pictures with Howard show up about six months after that.”

“Okay, so Howard likes them barely legal.” Krissy eyed me critically as I turned in front of her. “Makes him a bit sleazy, but that doesn’t really shock me.”

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “Two years ago, only a couple months after those photos were taken, Patricia disappeared.”

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?”

“I mean she completely vanished. No one’s seen or heard from her since. No credit card activity. Her apartment was untouched until her prepaid rent ran out. No calls on her cell or the landline in the apartment. No bus, plane, or train tickets, and she didn’t have a car. She disappeared.”

Krissy gave me a suspicious look. “That’s an awful lot of information to have gotten with just an Internet search.”

I grinned. “I didn’t say that’s how I got it.”

She sighed. “That’s a maybe dress. Go try on the next one.”

As I walked back into the other room, she continued, “Now tell me where you got all that information.”

I was glad I wasn’t out there with her. She wasn’t going to be happy about this. “It was in the police file.”

“And how did you get access to that?”

I put on the next dress. “You remember Pete Connors? That detective you dated a couple years ago?”

“Yes.” The word was clipped.

“Well, I kind of told him you’d have a drink with him tomorrow.”

“You did what?” Krissy barely managed to keep her voice down.

I stepped out into the other room. “Come on, Krissy, he’s a sweet guy. And not bad-looking either.”

She glared at me.

“That golden blond hair.” I tried doing to her what she always did to me when I was mad at her for something like this. “Those pretty green eyes. And he’s really fit.”

“He goes to comic book conventions,” she countered as she crossed her arms.

“I seem to remember you telling me that he was... well-endowed.” For once, I didn’t blush. “And he certainly made you scream.”

“He lives with his mother, Carrie. He’s twenty-nine and lives with his mother.”

“He’s a good guy, Krissy.” I dropped the teasing tone and went with serious. “When we talked before, you asked why you couldn’t find a guy like Gavin. I said maybe the problem was that you were looking for the wrong type of guy. Well, Pete’s the right kind of guy.”

Krissy sighed. “Whatever. I’ll get a drink with him, since he obviously already gave you the information.”

“Thank you.” I held out my arms and twirled. “Keep?”

“Yeah.” Krissy didn’t sound quite so enthused.

“I want to look for this girl, Krissy.” I didn’t need to explain my reasoning to her. She knew how I felt about cases like this.

“You’re a paralegal, Carrie, not a cop.” Her words could’ve been harsh if her tone hadn’t been gentle.

“I know,” I said as I went back in for the last dress. “But if I can find something new, maybe it’ll help the cops find her.” I paused as I switched dresses, then I asked, “Do you think it’s possible Gavin or Howard could be involved?”

“Gavin?” Krissy sounded surprised by the question. “No. I’ve seen how he is with you. I don’t think he’d ever hurt a woman.”

“And Howard?” I stepped back out.

“Howard?” she repeated, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Maybe.”

My eyes widened. I’d expected her to tell me I was reaching or imagining things. I hadn’t expected any form of agreement.

“There’s just something about him,” she said.

I nodded. I knew what she meant. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t trust him. And it wasn’t like with Gavin, where my head told me to use common sense and my body wanted to give myself over to him completely. Every fiber of my being told me that I shouldn’t believe a word Howard said.

We continued clothing selection in a much more somber mood than we’d begun, but by the time we’d finished and Krissy had her own expensive new dress, some of the previous levity had returned. As we took the rack to the front of the store, I wondered out loud where I was going to keep all of the bags at work.

“Oh, Ms. Summers, didn’t Mr. Manning tell you?” The saleswoman appeared so suddenly that I jumped. She either didn’t notice or was too polite to say anything.

“Tell me what?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“He asked us to have your purchases taken directly to the plane so you wouldn’t have to worry.”

I saw Krissy grin and had to shake my head in near exasperation. “Of course he did.”

If I’d thought it was difficult working that morning, it was nothing compared to the agony that followed my two-hour lunch-slash-shopping spree. To make matters worse, it seemed like everyone knew about my trip. Obviously Mimi had known because Gavin had called her about letting Krissy and me take the extra hour, but when we headed for our desks, we were on the receiving end of some very interesting looks.

Leslie and Dena made no effort to hide their jealousy, but it was the same kind of jealousy we shared when one of us ended up with a great guy or an awesome pair of new shoes. We wished it was us, but we didn’t resent the other’s good fortune. They, of course, knew the details because I’d filled in all three of my friends about the entire trip. Some of our other coworkers, however, weren’t being quite so generous. And based on some of the mutterings I was hearing, the rumors were flying.

Mimi was pimping me out to clients.

I had some sort of blackmail on Mimi or a client.

Some rich old client was now my sugar daddy.

My personal favorite was one I overheard when I walked into the restroom and two other paralegals were talking between stalls. They’d heard that Krissy and I were running a brothel out of the law office and Mimi was covering for us for a cut of the profits. That rumor was my favorite, because I just stood outside the stalls and waited for the women to come out. I wasn’t sure whose reaction was funnier, Jerrica who squeaked and ran back into the stall, or Meghan who tried to walk defiantly past me and tripped over her own two feet, almost face-planting right there on the tile floor. When I told Krissy the story, she laughed until she cried.

As entertaining as I found the entire thing, it was wearing, and I was only too glad when the day was done. Still, I hung back for a couple of minutes, waiting for the majority of people to clear out. Gavin had said he was sending a limo for me. If the people I worked with saw me get into a limo after everything else, there’d be no end to the rumors. While they might suspect it was for me if they saw it outside, there was still room for reasonable doubt – a defense attorney’s bread and butter – and I could deflect any questions.

My friends waited for me, taking their time tidying up their desks and double-checking that they’d finished all of their work. When only a handful of people remained, the four of us headed for the elevators together. I almost laughed as they formed a little knot around me, keeping up a constant stream of chatter so that no one else had the chance to ask me any questions. Well, Krissy and Leslie did most of the talking, but Dena’s presence was just as important, keeping yet another body between me and my would-be interrogators. That was one of the downsides of working at a law firm, particularly one that specialized in divorce. Everyone loved a good scandal, and they were good at ferreting them out.

While we stepped outside, the limo was indeed waiting, as were half a dozen of the biggest office gossips. I sighed. I could keep walking, pretend that it wasn’t for me, and just take a taxi to the airport. I knew Gavin would hear about it, and it would be a slap in the face to treat such a kind gesture with what would look like disdain, but I really didn’t want to give my coworkers more fodder.

“Don’t you dare,” Krissy hissed.

I looked over at her, startled.

“I can read you like a book, Carrie,” she said. “And don’t you dare walk away from that limo because you’re worried about what some blabbermouths are going to say about you.”

“She’s right,” Leslie said. “You care about Gavin, and he obviously cares about you. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Who cares about them?” Dena spoke up. “You know yourself, and you know how you feel about Gavin. Don’t let anyone taint that.”

As usual, my quiet friend had hit the nail on the head. I’d been telling myself that I didn’t want people to think Gavin was buying me, but that wasn’t the real reason his gifts made me uncomfortable. Every woman has that little voice inside her that’s made up of every vicious attack she’s had in her whole life. Mine was constantly telling me that I was lying to myself, that I didn’t really care about Gavin, that I was only after him for the things he could give me. Of course, that meant I had to prove that voice wrong and refuse as much as I could. I couldn’t accept anything without wondering if my motives were pure, or if I was turning into Samantha.

Samantha had been my best friend in junior high, and she’d loved manipulating men into doing things for her. She’d tried to convince me that men deserved to be used and that any woman who said they didn’t want gifts from a man was lying. She said it so often that by the time we parted ways sophomore year, I was constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if I was just using the men in my life.

Krissy snapped her fingers in front of my face. Apparently I’d been overthinking things. Not exactly a surprise.

“Get in the limo,” she said firmly. “Get on that private jet, wear those fabulous clothes, soak up the Florida sun, and have wild, kinky sex with your man.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling only the slightest hint of a blush. Maybe I was getting more comfortable in my skin after all. I nodded. “All right. I’m going.”

As I approached the limo, the driver climbed out and came around the car to the back door. He opened it, giving me a little bow of his head. “Ms. Summers.”

I stopped before getting inside, a question occurring to me. “How did you know who I am? Or did you just assume whoever walked up would be me?”

One side of his mouth tipped up in a half-smile. “Mr. Manning sent a photograph to my employer so that I would know what you looked like.” He paused, then added, “And Mr. Manning warned me that you might have a bit of an... attitude.”

I grinned. “I suppose I do.” I climbed into the back seat. I hoped Gavin had sent my photograph from the company’s website, because the only other photograph I could think he’d have would be one he’d taken himself. I didn’t remember him taking any pictures.

I stared out the window, pondering pictures, as we drove toward the airport. It wasn’t until we started turning away from the main entrance to the airport that I noticed we’d arrived.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “Don’t we have to go through that way?”

“No, Ms. Summers,” the driver said. “That entrance is for commercial flights. Since Mr. Manning’s jet has its own runway we can drive straight to it. And because it’s not an international flight, you can bypass customs and all of that completely.”

I hadn’t thought of that. There really were advantages to having money. We pulled up next to a huge plane. Okay, it wasn’t as big as any of the commercial airliners I could see on the other runways, but it was definitely big enough to make me feel small. Back home in Alabama, there were men who bragged that they had planes, but those were little two-seaters, barely anything more than a hang glider. This, however, was a real jet.

The driver opened my door and held out a hand to assist me. I took it and let him help me from the car. I couldn’t take my eyes off the plane. The door to the jet was open and stairs had already been pushed up against it. A man in a pilot’s uniform was standing at the top of the stairs.

I thanked the driver and headed for the stairs. I was starting to feel like Cinderella must’ve felt when she was on her way to the ball. The new wardrobe. The unexpected transportation. And, of course, the handsome prince waiting for me.

“Ms. Summers,” the pilot nodded at me as I walked past him and into the plane.

I stopped just a few steps inside and stared around me in awe. This wasn’t like any other airplane I’d ever been on; it was like something out of a movie. There were no rows of seats, or other passengers for that matter. A pleasant-looking woman in a navy blue pantsuit stood nearby, and on the other side of the cabin was a handsome man wearing khakis and a blue dress shirt the same color as the woman’s outfit. The entire space was done in beige with that blue trim. The furnishings were more lavish than what I had in my apartment. Half a dozen plush chairs flanked by little side tables, a bigger table with four high-backed chairs around it, and a full bar. A couch sat across from a flat screen television, and a shelving unit beneath the TV held what looked like a hundred DVDs. At the front of the cabin was a door clearly labeled “Cockpit. Authorized Personnel Only,” while the door at the back clearly led somewhere else.

The pilot was speaking to me. “I’m Captain Anders and I’ll be flying you to Miami. My copilot is finishing up the preflight checks, so we should be ready to go shortly. Please make yourself comfortable.” He headed for the cockpit door.

I looked towards all of my seating options. I wasn’t usually so indecisive, but my already strange day was turning even more surreal with each passing moment.

“Would you like a drink?” The woman spoke up.

“Yes, please,” I said as a rush of relief went through me. I needed something to help me relax before we took off.

She moved towards the bar. “I’m Robin and he’s Malcolm.” She gestured towards the man, who gave me a nod but didn’t speak. “If there’s anything you need, please let one of us know.”

She poured me a drink and I drained it in one gulp. The liquid burned on the way down and I wasn’t sure if I liked the taste, but it did ease my nerves a bit. I wandered around the cabin, opening doors and cabinets, waiting to be told I needed to stop. The cease and desist never came, however, so I kept looking. I found that the door at the back led to a short corridor with three doors. One went to a bathroom, the next a closet where I found the bags of all of the clothes I’d purchased earlier. The dresses were even hanging up in their clear bags. The final door opened into what could only be described as a small bedroom. The bed was only a single and barely fit. The sheets, however, were high quality. That’d be one way to join the Mile-High Club, I thought as I closed the door.

The captain’s voice came over the intercom, telling me I needed to go back to my seat and strap in. I did as I was told, thinking that when we were almost to Miami I’d freshen up and put on one of my new dresses just in case Gavin and I would be eating out. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. This was really happening.

I had a feeling that whatever happened this week, whether good or bad, would be a turning point in my life. And I was ready for a change.