Hollywood Confessions (18 page)

“
You’ve been busy today.”

“
Yes. My
assets
have gotten a full workout.”

He raised an eyebrow at me but before he could come up with some bitingly British remark, I continued, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

“
Hot lead?” Felix asked.

I put my hands on my hips. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

He paused. Raised his eyes to meet mine. Lifted his eyebrows ever so slightly. “Who?”

“
Alec Davies. I’m meeting him for dinner.”

Felix stared at me for a beat, some indefinable emotion flitting behind his eyes. “Dinner?”

“
Yes.”

“
That sounds personal.”

I paused. “He’s got footage of Don and Deb for me to look at.”

“
He could drop that off here.”

“
He could,” I agreed.

“
So, why the dinner?”

I squared my shoulders. “Okay, so maybe this is a little personal. I am allowed to have a personal life, aren’t I?”

Felix gave me a long, hard stare. “No.”

I blinked. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”

“
No, you’re not allowed to have a personal life where Alec Davies is concerned.”

“
Oh, yes I am,” I said, my volume rising.

“
No, you’re not.”

“
Yes. I. Am.”

“
No. You’re. Not.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me, but you have no right whatsoever to tell me what to do.”

“
I’m your boss.”

“
You’re not the boss of my love life.”

He paused. “Love? Just how personal has this gotten already?”

I squared my shoulders, making the most of my meager height. “That is none of your business,” I replied. Even though, quite frankly, there wasn’t much to tell. But even if there was, no way was I telling Felix.

“
I want you off this,” Felix said, turning to his computer. “I’m giving Davies to Tina.”

“
Like hell you are!” I shouted. “You’re the one who told me I should use my assets. Well, that’s what I’m doing. You don’t like the outcome, that’s your fault.”

Felix took a step toward me. “You are not to go near Davies again, you hear me?”

“
Why? Because he’s cute? Successful? Into me?”

Felix took another step toward me, pinning me to the spot with a look so intent I had to stop myself from physically backing away. “No, Allie,” he responded, his voice hard and commanding, “because Davies is a convicted felon.”

Chapter Eleven

I’ll admit it, that nugget of information stunned the snide remarks right out of me. “What?” I breathed out once I’d found my voice again. “What do you mean, ‘felon?’”

“
I mean, he’s been convicted of a felony.”

“
You must be mistaken.”

Felix shook his head. “I assure you, I’m not.”

“
Where did you get this information?”

“
From Tina. And she’s never mistaken.”

I thought a really bad word directed at one purple-haired reporter.

“
Where did she get it?” I asked. Even though the second the words left my mouth, I remembered the criminal database I’d seen in her browser history earlier. Apparently she hadn’t been bluffing at the hotel when she’d alluded to an ace up her sleeve.

Felix crossed the room to his computer and jiggled the mouse to life. A few clicks later, a picture of a younger-looking Alec filled his screen. In a mug shot.

“
I don’t believe it,” I whispered, taking in the photo.

Only, of course, the proof was here staring me in the face. And I felt like a fool. I’d let his dimples and easy smile distract me from good investigating. I was better than that.

“
What was he convicted of?” I asked, hoping Felix said jaywalking.

“
Theft.”

Damn.

“
Apparently,” Felix went on, “grand theft auto, according to his rap sheet.”

“
He stole a car?”

“
Fifteen cars.”

Yikes. “So, why isn’t he in jail now?”

“
He was a juvenile at the time,” Felix said, reading off the screen where a detailed rap sheet accompanied the unflattering photo, “and was living in Canada then. He served a couple years in prison there, then was let out when he turned twenty-one.”

I stared at the picture again. He’d been just a kid. He hardly looked like a hardened criminal. Then again, he’d had time to harden up since. And what better place to do so than in prison.

“
I don’t know. I still have a hard time picturing him as Barker’s killer,” I hedged.

“
Does he have an alibi?” Felix asked.

“
Um…”

“
You did ask him for an alibi, didn’t you?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“
Sorta. I mean, I kinda got distracted.”

“
Hmm.” His eyes narrowed even further, reminding me of a cat ready to pounce. “But he was the last person to see Barker alive?”

“
I guess.”

“
And, as Barker’s partner, he does now have sole control over the company.”

“
I hadn’t thought of that.”

“
Had you thought to ask him if he and Barker were on good terms?”

“
Okay, fine!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “I dropped the ball on this one, okay? Happy?”

“
I’m not sure why my reporter dropping the ball should make me happy.”

“
Look, this is all the more reason why I should see Alec tonight. I need to get the straight story out of him.”

“
No.” Felix shook his head. “No way am I letting you put yourself in harm’s way like this.”

“
He’s not very well going to kill me in the middle of Mangia.”

Felix’s eyebrows shot up. “He got reservations at Mangia?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “Wow. They told me they had a six-week wait.”

“
It pays to be a producer.”

“
It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t let you go out with this guy. It’s not worth the risk.”

“
Might I point out it isn’t your place to ‘let’ or ‘not let’ me do anything?”

“
I said no. End of discussion.”

“
You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not a child.”

“
Then quit acting so damned childish!” he shouted.

“
Me?” I shouted back. Loudly enough that Max’s head popped up over the top of his partition to see what the commotion was about. “I’m not the one letting my petty jealousy get in the way of good reporting.”

“
Ha!” Felix barked, though there was zero humor in the sound. “Jealousy? You think I’m jealous of some two-bit felon turned wannabe producer?”

“
He’s pulling seven figures a year. He’s hardly a wannabe.”

“
Allie, love, if you think this is personal…” Felix trailed off and shook his head. Then he lowered his voice and sent me a look that smacked of pity. “Look, Allie, it was just one night.”

I clenched my jaw shut, my cheeks instantly filling with the heat of an embarrassing one-nighter, turned into an even more embarrassing encounter with a boss who thought I was harboring some childish crush I clearly was not. I squared my shoulders, mustering up as much dignity as I could. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I have a date.”

Then, for the second day in a row, I stormed out of his office (though, this time I’m happy to say I remembered to grab my purse first) and stomped across the floor as noisily as my heels could muster.

* * *

I drove home, took a hot shower and defiantly painted my toenails a hot passion pink. Only, I had to admit that even after I calmed down, the whole felon thing stuck with me. While I had a hard time picturing Alec’s adorable dimples killing anyone, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. So while I waited for my toenails to dry I dialed Gary’s number

I waited while the phone rang three times on the other end, then a sleepy voice picked up.

“
What?”

“
Hey, Gary, it’s Allie.”

“
Allie who?’

“
Quick.”

There was a pause.

“
The reporter?” I pressed.

“
Oh, right,” he said stifling a yawn.

“
Listen, I need you to help me out tonight.”

I could feel him slowly coming awake on the other end. “Uhn uh. No way, blondie. Last time I helped you, I nearly got run off the road. I’ve got a welt on the head so nasty I’ve been sleeping all afternoon.”

“
Sleeping. The favorite pastime of the
unemployed
,” I reminded him.

He paused. “You offering me a real job?”

“
If you help me out tonight, you’re hired as my assistant.”

“
Do I get benefits?”

“
You’re pushing it.”

“
Okay, fine. What do you want me to do?”

“
I’m interviewing a suspect tonight. I want you to follow us and just keep close in case I need backup.”

“
What kind of backup?”

I quickly filled him in on Alec’s record and my sudden wariness at being alone with him tonight.

“
So, I’m like your bodyguard,” Gary said when I was done.

“
Backup,” I corrected.

“
Right. I’m on it. The second I see trouble, I’ll be ready to kick some ass.”

“
No! No ass kicking. I just need you to keep an eye out. If there’s trouble, call nine-one-one.”

“
Fine. I’ll call nine-one-one,” he sighed. Then added, “You’re no fun.”

That was the least of my worries.

* * *

Once I had my backup settled, I blow-dried and styled my hair, doing the big, soft curls thing with just the slightest hint of styling wax that left my hair looking naturally soft and touchable, yet totally frizz-free. Then I went full force on the smoky eyes, lots of thick black liner, black lengthening mascara, and gray eyeshadow with just the slightest hint of purple along the edges to bring out my green eyes. After a thick swipe of pale pink lipstick, I was looking pretty hot, even if I did say so myself.

Careful not to smudge the mascara, I slid a short, silver tank dress over my head. It was a simple cut, ending just enough inches above my knee to turn heads, but not enough to say I was available by the hour. A V-neck gave the illusion of elongating my stature, and the low drop in the back said sexy in a very classy way. I finished off the outfit with a pair of black three-inch strappy stilettos, leaving myself just enough time to be only slightly fashionably late to the restaurant.

Which, as it turned out, was every bit as amazing as a six-week wait would have you imagine. As I parked across the street, for a moment I forgot I was a reporter peeking into the lives of the rich and famous; I actually felt as if I was one of the elite.

I saw two paparazzi outside, flashing their cameras in the faces of anyone semi-recognizable as they left. Just for kicks I ducked my head, pretending to be someone famous enough not to want to be photographed. I couldn’t help a little giggle as I saw a flash go off to my right.

“
Hey, sweetie,” the guy behind the camera called. “What’s your name?”

I flipped my hair over my right shoulder. “Allie Quick. Newest star reporter for the
L.A. Times
.” Hey, if I was fantasizing I might as well go all the way, right?

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guy pull out this cell, no doubt Tweeting this tidbit as I slipped through the door. Gotta love a desperate paparazzo.

The interior of the restaurant was just as swanky as the outside. Red velvet walls, crystal chandeliers and gilded frames glittering with a luxury that was just this side of opulence. As I took in the décor I heard my cell chirp to life in my pocketbook. I pulled it out. Felix’s number.

I resisted giving a very unladylike snort. Nice try, mister, but I was going Felix-free tonight. I put the phone on silent mode before shoving it back into my purse. Then I gave my name to the maitre d’, and he quickly whisked me to a table near the center of the room where Alec was waiting, a bottle of champagne chilling in a gold bucket to his right.

Maybe it was just me, but he was looking decidedly un-murderer-like. He was dressed in a dark blazer, casually layered over a blue button-down shirt opened at the neck. A pair of jeans beneath said he was too cool to worry about dressing up, but his Armani loafers showed he knew how to dress when the occasion called for it. He stood when I approached the table, his dimples appearing as he did a slow smile. Suddenly I felt foolish for ever worrying about my safety. No one this good-looking could be guilty, right?

“
That’s quite a dress,” he said, his eyes flickering to my hemline.

“
I’m quite a gal.”

He grinned. “I believe it,” he laughed as he pulled my chair out for me.

As I sat, I sent a casual glance toward the bar area. Gary had taken up residence on a stool next to a tall redhead in a blue miniskirt. He raised a martini glass my way and gave me an exaggerated wink before turning his attention back to the redhead.