Lucky Me (13 page)

“He's so amazing, Jack,” I sighed.

Jack followed my gaze. “Who?”

“The receptionist. Who do you think? Officer Fells of course!”

“He's technically not an officer. He's just a cadet, so it doesn't count.”

“Yes it does!” I looked at Jack self-consciously. “I can't believe he saw me in that gangster outfit. I could literally die right now! Am I really making a fool of myself?”

“Well it could be worse,” Jack told me with a shrug. “I mean, your British accent hasn't come out yet.”

Oh crapola. I had forgotten all about the accent! Great, it was bound to slip out now that it was in my conscious mind, which I'm about ninety-seven percent sure is an actual psychological theory. Something to do with some guy called Freed, or Fraud or something. Freud! That's it. I had seen something about it on a boring as hell documentary that ran over time while I was waiting for
True Blood
to start.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to push the accent back into the darkest corners of my mind, as Milo and the man in the suit had walked back toward us, looking all official and business-like.

“Gia, Jack, this is Detective George Reynolds,” Milo said. “I've just filled him in on your case, and he'll be taking the lead on this.”

“Nice to meet you two kids, even if it is under unfortunate circumstances. I'm a big fan of your father's work, Miss Winters,” Detective Reynolds said, shaking our hands. I watched his perfectly shaped moustache move as he spoke, giving him a small smile. “Milo here has gotten me up to speed and I definitely think there's a case here.”

I turned my head toward the receptionist who was clearly pretending like she wasn't listening. I raised an eyebrow and slipped her a sly smile as if to say
told you so
. Sure, there was a big chance they were only taking me seriously because of my last name and not based on the evidence, but you've got to choose your battles.

“Unfortunately,” Detective Reynolds continued with a frown. “The photograph that you swiped from the Dumpling Hospital gives us a good place to start, but we can't rely too heavily on it due to the method it was obtained.”

I gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the floor. Good one, Gia. I had finally managed to find enough evidence to start a case and it couldn't even be used because it was done through trespassing and stealing.

“Can you send someone undercover, or get a search warrant?” Jack asked, and I nodded in agreement with the ideas.

“We'll most likely send someone undercover. Do a little research,” Detective Reynolds told us.

“We should be able to get a warrant,” Milo added. “But this Dr. D person obviously knows you've been in his restaurant, so he's had enough time to hide anything incriminating.”

“Exactly,” Detective Reynolds said with a nod.

Needless to say, I was extremely impressed. I mean, he was the definition of perfection. Not only was he ridiculously hot, he was smart too. Logic was a necessary part of life. Therefore, Milo was a necessary part of my life. It was just basic reasoning.

Detective Reynolds looked down at this phone with a groan. “Damn it! Carl's been booked for indecent exposure again! I swear, if he weren't my brother-in-law . . .” Milo offered him a sympathetic smile. “I'll give it to Davis. He's been slacking lately.” Detective Reynolds nodded at Jack and I. “Let me know if you receive any more texts or calls.”

“We will, sir. Thank you,” Jack replied.

“We'll get our best guys on this, Miss Winters, I assure you,” Detective Reynolds said, making me feel pretty good about dropping my surname into the conversation before. “I'll personally be handling the case, and Cadet Fells will be assisting me. This will be a great training experience for him. I do hope that's not a problem.”

I looked at Milo, who was watching me with zero expression on his face.

“Right!” I exclaimed. “No problems here! Don't have any problems in my life. Except, of course, the stalker . . .” I trailed off as Jack coughed awkwardly beside me.

Detective Reynolds blinked at me for a few seconds. “Milo will give you our contact details,” he finally said, nodding at Milo before finally walking away, leaving Jack, Milo and I alone once more. Milo asked the receptionist for a pen and wrote down two phone numbers on a post-it note, handing it to me after he was done.

“The second number is mine,” he told me, and I smiled. “Just call us if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I barely managed to squeak out.

Officer Fells gave me a smile that was kind of making me think he was a tad out of my league, so I focused on breathing like a normal person. At least I was wearing a push up bra under my Dolce corset top. That's got to count for something, right? There was silence for a few seconds and I looked at my boots, trying desperately to avoid eye contact with Milo.

“Oh!” Jack said finally, looking at his phone in surprise. “I'm sorry, I have to take this call,” he told me, holding up the blank screen to show me.

I grabbed onto Jack's arm and dug my nails into him as hard as I could. Jack's phone hadn't even let out as little as a buzz; there was no way someone was calling him. I knew exactly what he was doing and I wasn't going to let him leave me there with Milo just so he could watch me act like an idiot.

“Jack,” I said through a gritted smile. “Your phone's not even ringing.”

“I know.” Jack smiled at me innocently and put the phone to his ear. “Hello? Yeah I'm here.”

I watched him walk off in despair. I was going to
murder
him when I was done ruining my chances with the amazing guy in front of me.

“So . . .” I said, awkwardly rocking back on my heels. “Top of the morning, eh?”

Oh lordy. It was going to be a long road downhill from that.

“Yeah, the weather's holding up,” Milo said, thankfully choosing to ignore the initial signs of my anxiety coping mechanism.

“Busy day so far, Officer? I mean cadet . . . sir?”

What the heck was I meant to call him? Future husband?

“I'm technically not an officer yet, but I'm getting there!” he replied with a friendly laugh. “I'm almost done with my training. I've got the uniform, just not the title.”

I pointed at his uniform and said, “Well you look really hot in it.” I slapped a hand over my mouth and cringed.

Milo smiled, widening his eyes. “Uh . . .” he began, clearly trying to figure out how to respond.

“No! I didn't mean it like that! I mean, do you ever get hot in that uniform? Okay, that sounds bad too. I just mean, it's pretty warm outside, shouldn't you be wearing a t-shirt? You don't have to wear a t-shirt, there's no law saying you have to. Of course you'd know; you're a police officer. Almost. I'm just saying you can just wear something hotter. I mean warmer!”

From the corner of my eye I saw Jack standing at a slight distance, his phone still pressed to his ear, laughing as silently as he possibly could. In fact, he looked absolutely hysterical, and I can't even blame him. If I hadn't been mentally bashing my head against a wall, I'd probably have been laughing at me too.

“It's not too bad,” he replied, watching me with a curious smile. Oh great, he was probably trying to figure out which mental disorder I had. “You should try wearing a bullet-proof vest. That thing suffocates you!”

“Yeah,” I said, with unnecessary amounts of enthusiasm. “Getting shot at has got to suck, right?”

“I've been lucky on that front so far,” Milo admitted, his dimples coming into full view. “But yeah, I've heard it sucks.”

Yeah well, it can't be any worse than having this conversation. Luckily, Jack seemed to have given up on his phone call charade and was walking back toward us.

“I'm sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But we should probably be heading off now.”

“Of course,” Milo said. “Just let us know if you get any other texts or calls. We'll see what we can do about the Dumpling Hospital.”

“Thanks Officer . . . um . . .” I said, grabbing onto Jack's arm and heading for the door. I could not
wait
to get out of there and stop embarrassing myself.

“Just Milo,” he replied, and I momentarily stopped making a mad dash for the exit. “Like the chocolate milk, remember?”

“Right,” I said, giving a nervous laugh. “Well, see you ‘round!”

I had Jack's wrist in a death grip as I led him out of the police station, and didn't let go until we were far enough from the building to start breathing normally again.

“Okay, are you going to explain what happened there or should I just go ahead and guess?”

“Oh my gosh!” I groaned, slapping a hand across my eyes in embarrassment. “I totally blew that!”

“Princess, it was like watching a lamb waiting to get slaughtered.” Evidently Jack had decided his new nickname was going to stick around.

“I cannot believe how crazy I sounded!” I exclaimed, replaying the conversation in my head.

“Well it doesn't matter,” Jack said. “You've got Brendan, remember? Your one and only true love?”

I lowered my hand and looked at Jack. Yep, just as I suspected. A smug and sarcastic look was planted firmly on his freaking perfect face.

“Of course,” I said, composing myself. “Brendan and I are great together! Whatever. I don't care about Milo.”

“Your denial becomes more amusing every day.”

Okay, obviously he was totally wrong. I wasn't in denial! Sure, Milo was so dreamy it made me want to cry a little, but I already had a gorgeous boyfriend. I mean, Brendan was a fine gentleman. Any lady would be lucky to have him as a potential suitor. Why am I talking like Jane Austen? Oh whatever, I give up in life.

“You think they'll find anything in the restaurant?” I asked Jack.

“I doubt it,” he replied, shaking his head. “That place is probably cleaner than a hospital right now.” He smiled proudly. “Did you get it?”

“Dear God.”

“See, that was a joke. Because the place is modeled after a hospital!”

With the amount of eye rolling I was doing, I was going to give myself a brain aneurysm.

Chapter Nine

It was bad enough that I had a crumbling love life and a psycho who was stalking me; the last thing I needed to deal with was school. With only months before graduation, it was clear I wasn't getting into
any
colleges with my grades, let alone the Ivy Leagues my father had his sights set on. I had applied just about everywhere, but I couldn't decide what I really wanted. Hollywood was all I knew, all I was comfortable with. But moving to the East Coast would give my dad and I a lot of freedom from each other. Mom had always encouraged me to try out a career in acting, but I was a terrible liar, and acting was pretty much the same thing. Besides, it's a nerve-wracking job, and with my volatile British accent, my luckiest bet was an acting career in England. And that climate just isn't for me.

If I wasn't already worried enough about my future, my friends were beginning to pick up on something being wrong. I couldn't even blame them. Jack had appeared into my life so suddenly, and hadn't left my side since. Plus he was still set on doing his freaky secret service-style surrounding checks no matter where we were, as if Dr. D was going to come bouncing out of my locker and attack me. There was no way I could be around the girls
and
have to deal with the whole bodyguard situation.

“Where were you yesterday?” was the first question I was asked by Veronica before I had even made it to my locker.

“Oh,” I had replied, “Um, Anya forgot to separate the whites in the wash again so poor Jack didn't have any clothes to wear. I had to go buy him some.”

Needless to say, my friends had both been skeptical about that excuse.

“Jack didn't have any other colors he could have worn?” Aria had asked, giving me a funny look.

“He's . . . crazy about his whites.”

Yet another reason for them not to believe me, considering Jack had worn a white t-shirt all but once since they'd met him.

“Oh,” Veronica had said. “I thought you were going to say it was because your mom was in town. I saw it online.”

Right. That would have been a pretty understandable excuse, but no. Jack wanted his whites.

Brendan, who had finally returned to school, was trying his best to keep his jealousy in check. Unfortunately for him, I was slowly starting to get used to Jack always being around, which wasn't great for our “we're just friends” campaign. I mean, we
were
just friends, but sometimes I felt like I could see us as more. It was a terrifying thought, considering I barely knew the guy. All I'd managed to pick up from short conversations was that he had a younger sister, Scarlett, his favorite color was grey, he was from New York and his favorite movie was
Fight Club
. He'd practically had a heart attack when I had told him I'd never seen it, but he'd never seen
Breakfast at Tiffany's
so we called it even. Jack or no Jack, I was pretty convinced that Brendan and I were on the road to breakup. But there was never a good time to pull him aside and say “we need to talk, because this clearly isn't working out, buddy.” So I kept up the charade, hoping that when the right time arrived, it would present itself.

It had been a few days since the police station misadventure, and I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. Mom had come in almost a half hour ago to tell me that her, Dad, and of course Kenny, were going out with Al and his wife Melissa, and that they'd be late. Personally, I thought it was nice how my parents could stay in the same house and keep mutual friends, even despite all their bad blood with the divorce. But I wasn't an idiot. I knew a lot of that was to do with making sure Mike and I weren't too mentally affected by their separation. Kids in Hollywood are crazy enough as it is. They didn't need us blaming their broken relationship as an excuse for our behavior.

Not that I really even had time to do something crazy. I was too caught up with thoughts about Dr. D and the Dumpling Hospital. I couldn't figure out why he was interested in me, and only me. It was my parents who were the famous ones, not me. I wasn't part of the Kardashian family, where even the pets were celebrities. It didn't really make any sense. My only claim to fame was my last name, and even that wasn't reason enough to harass me.

The real problem was, Dad was being super sketchy about everything. Every time I asked him what he thought about the whole thing, he would just get mad at me or act like he was busy and he didn't have time to talk. Who did he expect me to turn to in my time of need? Mr. Santa Claus guy from the bodyguard agency thing had made it pretty clear no one could know, which wasn't exactly helping my wild curiosity about what had made Dad hire the bodyguards in the first place. Plus, it's not like I could sit down with Jack and start telling him all of my concerns over margaritas and manicures.

When my half-assed attempts at getting up and doing something productive failed, I finally gave up and scooped up Famous, who was asleep next to me. Grabbing my phone, I made my way down to the TV room, walking in on Jack, Chris, and Mike sitting on the couch watching a Victoria's Secret Fashion Show from a few years ago.

“Really?” I asked, standing in front of the TV with a disapproving face.

“Yes, really!” Mike replied. “Now move.”

I put Famous down and moved away from the TV screen so that the boys could continue ogling the genetically flawless women.

“Move over,” I told Jack, putting my phone in the pocket of my shorts.

He pointed to the floor with a smile. “There's a spot over there, next to Famous.”

I put my hands on my hips with a scowl. “Excuse me?”

Almost immediately, Chris rose from his seat, moved past Mike, and slowly sank onto a beanbag, leaving a space for me in between Mike and Jack.

“See,” I said, taking a seat in between the boys. “Chris is nice! Thanks, Chris!”

I suddenly remembered what Jack had said about Chris thinking I was hot and went a little rigid. I mean, it was totally flattering, but it was Jack I had my eye on, not Chris. No offense. He seemed great and all, but he wasn't my type. Mostly because I wasn't a hundred percent sure his vocabulary consisted of more than ten words. Jack clearly had the same thought as I did, because he grinned, mouthing the word
aww.

“Don't say anything.”

“I'm not.”

“Good. Don't.”

“Is pizza okay for dinner, or should we ask one of the girls to make something?” I asked the boys.

“Pizza,” Jack and Mike said simultaneously.

I looked at Chris, sitting inches away. “Is pizza okay?” I said, almost encouragingly.

He gave me a nervous smile and shrugged. I took it as a yes.

“Mike,” I said. “Don't you think it's weird that Dad's been going out a little extra since the bodyguards moved in?”

Mike shrugged, never moving his eyes away from the screen. “No.”

Wow. His helpfulness was overwhelming.

“Heard from the cops?” Jack asked.

“Why would I hear from Milo? I didn't give him my number. Do you think he has access to that information?”

“Milo?” Jack pulled his eyes away from the TV and fixated them on me. “First name basis already?”

“He said his name was Milo! You were there for my humiliating milk comment.”

“Yeah, that was hilarious.”

“Well what should I call him then?”

“How about Cadet Fells?”

“How about,” Mike cut in. “You both take this conversation outside, and let me watch Adriana Lima in peace.”

There were a billion “how about” scenarios I had in mind for my brother, all ending in some form of violence. But instead of wasting my time and energy, Jack and I rose from the sofa and left the room without putting up a fight, leaving Chris, Mike and Famous to continue watching their favorite underwear models on a TV the size of a movie theater screen.

Jack and I headed to the kitchen, a place I happened to be spending way too much time in ever since the bodyguards had moved in. Being near the pantry seemed to be one of the only places that truly brought me peace. Jack went straight for the drinks fridge before I had even entered the room, opening a can of Sprite and handing me one. I placed my phone on the counter, opened my can and took a sip as Jack called for four large pizzas to be delivered. With a house full of boys, four probably wouldn't have been enough. Anya was standing by the sink, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Gia,” she said. “Why you call for pizza? I make for you!”

“Oh don't worry about that,” Jack replied for me, hanging up the phone. “You and the rest of the girls do enough around the house! You deserve a night off.”

Anya smiled so widely, I was pretty much certain she was mentally filling out adoption papers to officially make Jack her son. She thanked him, said something in Russian, smiled some more and hurried out of the kitchen. Great. Evidently it wasn't just me who was always on the verge of falling for Jack.

“How come you're never that nice to me?” I said.

“When you learn to make chocolate chip cookies like Anya, I'll be that nice to you.”

Fair enough, those chocolate chip cookies were the bomb. I took another sip of my drink, the cold can freezing my fingers. “Do you think the police have found anything on that Ao Jie Kai guy?” I asked Jack.

He shrugged and said, “Probably not. It's only been a few days.”

“Well, should we do something to help speed up the process?”

Jack gulped down a large sip of Sprite, eyes bugged in alarm. “No,” he said, shaking his head fiercely. “Your last expedition got us into this mess!”

“What happened to ‘the more we find, the better it is,' huh?” I placed my can on the countertop with more force than required.

“I take it back. I can't be held responsible for your bad life choices.”

“My life choices are great, thank you very much!”

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of my phone vibrating cut him off. I looked at the caller ID that told me it was Brendan calling.

“Dr. D?” Jack said, snapping into action and leaning in close.

“No, Brendan.”

“Even better!” he said with a smile.

Unfortunately for me, Jack has fantastic reflexes. Before I could move, he snatched my phone of the counter and swiped the screen to answer the call.

“No! Jack!”

“Gia's phone,” he chimed, taking a huge step away from me.

“Jack!” I hissed. I climbed off the barstool I had been sitting on, launching myself at him.

“She's a little occupied right now doing . . .” he smiled. “Things. Can I take a message?”

My jaw dropped, which was clearly the reaction he had been hoping for because it only widened his grin. I pushed Jack against the fridge and wrestled him for the phone. He was obviously stronger than I was, but he finally let me have it after he was done laughing.

“Hello!” I practically yelled into the phone.

Oh great, I sounded breathless from all my fighting with Jack. This wasn't rubbing salt on the wound; it was taking the wound and pouring a four-pound bag of salt over it, and then jumping on it as if it were a personalized, salty bouncy castle.

“Gia?”

“Yeah, hi. I'm here.”

“What's going on?” Brendan sounded reluctant, as if he really just wanted to hang up and never think about speaking again.

“Nothing much, we're ordering pizza. In the kitchen. Fully dressed and standing yards away from each other. In fact, I don't even know where Jack is? Huh, what's that? Is that you Jack? Nope, it isn't!”

I slapped a hand to my forehead and glowered at Jack, who wasn't even attempting to muffle his laughter, his head leaning against the fridge for support. Brendan must have been on some intense drugs at the hospital when he had given Jack all that information about the catering for the party. There was no way these two were ever going to get along if one of them wasn't heavily sedated.

“Right,” Brendan replied. I could practically hear his frown through the phone. “Listen, we need to talk.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, trying to sound as casual as I possibly could. “What's up?”

I knew what was up. I couldn't have been the only thing feeling like things weren't working out. Brendan wasn't Einstein, but he was smart enough to realize that something was off base. Only, I had always figured I'd be the one to doing the breaking up. Jack had finally calmed down his laughter, but was still smiling widely.

“Not right now.” Brendan's voice came through the receiver. “Tomorrow at school.”

“Okay.”

“Cool. See you then.”

I hung up without saying bye, releasing Jack from my death grip and taking a few steps back.

“What was that about?” Jack asked, adjusting his shirt.

“Why can't you be nice to him?” I demanded, ignoring his question.

“I am nice to him!” Jack replied.

“No you're not! You were implying that you and I were . . .” I trailed off uncomfortably.

“Doing what?”

“You know.”

“Do I?”

“Oh shut up.”

“Hey,” Jack said. “I said you were ‘doing things.' If he has a dirty mind then I can't help that.”

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand, and I looked down, expecting
it to be Brendan calling back and dropping in a casual “Oh hey, I forgot to tell you that I think Jack is an ass.” But the screen read
No Caller ID
.

“Jack!” I said, showing him the screen. “What if it's Milo?”

“Don't you have his number saved?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. But maybe it's on private.”

Jack shrugged and reached for his drink. “Then answer it.”

Easy for him to say, but much harder for me to do. If it really was Milo on the other end, then that meant he probably had answers for us, which was kind of scary. But more importantly, I needed to make myself sound sexy over the phone.