Ripped (16 page)

I walked into the bedroom, but I didn’t see him. I walked towards the bathroom. “And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?”

He was shutting the door. He held it open for a second. “You can stay here if you want. I’ll go, and then if he shows back up here, you can take your chances.”

“I’m not—” I licked my lips. “Look, obviously, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

“But why are you doing it? Just to get between my legs?”

“That already happened.” He slammed the door in my face.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Shell

When he came out of the bathroom, he was dressed, and he wouldn’t even look at me. It wasn’t that he was in a bad mood. On the contrary, he was probably more animated and easy-going than usual. It was as if he was going to wipe away any tension or fear out of our situation by sheer force of will.

I wondered if this was how he coped with what he did. Just forced himself to change the subject and be cheerful.

He immediately got on the phone. “Hi, Joanie,” he said in a light voice. “Oh, I’m doing great, and how are you?”

Why was he calling a girl named Joanie?

“Did she really? Boy or girl?” he asked the receiver. He paused. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Tell her congratulations…. Listen, I know this is short notice, but I’d like to come by this afternoon… No, no, I’m not looking for a suit.”

“Are you calling a store?” I said. “You call stores? You don’t just go?”

He held up a finger to me, listening to his phone. “No, Joanie, I don’t need anything like that. I’m not looking for me.” He paused and then laughed. “Yes, she does happen to be of the female persuasion. She’s got very classic looks. You’ll have a ball picking out things for her.” He laughed again. “I know you do, and I appreciate it.”

I glared at him. Who was he? What contract killer did this?

He looked at me. “What size are you?”

I made a face. “You know, that’s kind of rude to ask.”

He sized me up. “You want me to guess?”

I sighed. I told him.

He relayed the information to Joanie on the phone. “If possible, could we have at least ten when we get there to just look at? And then we might have you get some more depending on what direction we go.” He waited. “That would be fabulous. Definitely. And no, I don’t think it’s too early.” He hung up, still smiling.

I just shook my head at him. “Where are we going?”

“Nordstrom.”

“You shop there?”

He just smiled.

I gaped at him. It was like I didn’t know him at all. Actually, I guessed that really was accurate. Despite the amount of time I’d spent with him, he really was a stranger to me.

“Well, you ready to go? They’re waiting for us.”

I looked down at my clothes. “I feel like I should change.”

“You’re just going to take them off when you get there,” he said. “Come on.” He gestured with his head toward the door. “Besides, you look great.”

I looked around at my room. “When are we coming back?”

He sighed. “Well, that I don’t know.”

“I need to work tomorrow at the restaurant,” I said.

“No way,” he said. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to call in and tell them I can’t come.” I twisted my hands together. “Any idea how long we’ll be gone?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

I sighed. “And… damn it, I was supposed to have a strip up today.” I looked at my computer.

“A strip?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“A comic strip, you perv.” I sighed.

“Oh, right,” he said. “You do webcomics.”

“I need to do it,” I said. “It will only take me about an hour or two. I sketch with my Bamboo tablet.” I pointed.

“On your laptop?” he said.

I nodded.

“Bring it along,” he said. “You’ll have an hour or two after we get the dress. But I have to say that your priorities are a little skewed, love. You’re in fear for your life here. How important is a comic strip?”

“Tell that to my subscribers,” I said, grimacing.

* * *

Shell

I had never tried on so many dresses in my life. Even when I went shopping on my own, I usually got tired after six or seven tries. If I hadn’t found something by then, I went for whatever I liked the best, rather than wandering through the store looking for something else to wear.

I’d never been shopping with someone assisting me in this way, who would go and pull dresses for me based on what she thought would look good or on the suggestion of either Cade or me.

“I want to see her in something red,” Cade was saying as I preened in front of the mirror in my eighteenth or twentieth different fancy dress. “Maybe something off the shoulder.”

Joanie handed me a glass of some kind of expensive champagne—which was apparently what Cade had said that it wasn’t too early for.

I took a sip. The champagne was going to my head, and I felt floaty and happy and warm. This was probably the best shopping experience I’d ever had.

“Red?” I said.

He looked at Joanie. “She’d look good in red, right?”

Joanie nodded. “Oh, definitely. She’s got the coloring for it.”

That might have been true, but I still never wore red. “I don’t really like red,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “It’s so conspicuous.”

Cade was lounging on a couch next to the dressing rooms, watching me parade around. He was drinking champagne too. “Conspicuous is good. You’ll be my camouflage. Everyone will be looking at you, and no one will even see me.”

Joanie laughed. “Certainly that’s not true, Mr. Davies. You’re very noticeable.”

He seemed to realized he’d slipped up a bit with that statement and he hid behind his champagne glass. “I want red anyway.”

“Well, it’s your money.” I turned to the mirror, making a face.

He grinned over the glass. “Yes, it is.”

So, Joanie brought a red dress, a little strappy thing with a big slit up the thigh and no back. When I put it on, I felt like I was half-naked. And it was so tight that there was no way I’d be able to sit down. I’d have unsightly bulges if I did.

I came out of the dressing room shaking my head. “There’s no way. I can’t wear this, I’m sorry.”

But then I saw the expression on Cade’s face as he took me in. It only flitted across for a second, and then he was grinning again, drinking his champagne. But for one second I saw hungry, naked
need
.

It took my breath away.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, draining his champagne glass. “That’s the dress.” To Joanie. “Ring it up.” He took out his wallet and handed her a wad of cash. “Should cover it?”

She surreptitiously counted it. “Oh, yes, Mr. Davies. Excellent. I’ll bring your change.” She disappeared.

Cade turned to me, arching an eyebrow. “You need help getting out of that thing?”

I closed myself back in the dressing room without answering. The last thing I wanted to do was get it on in Nordstrom. That was way too trashy. Not happening. And if he helped me get undressed, well…

As I was getting my clothes back on, I heard Joanie return. She counted back Cade’s change, which was over fifty dollars. I guessed he’d handed her a wad of hundreds.

I gulped.

“What happened to the other girl?” said Joanie. “You brought her four or five times.”

I was clasping my bra, but I froze. The
other
girl?

Cade cleared his throat. “You’ll probably want to take the dress from Shell. She can hand it out, can’t you, love?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize—” Joanie was obviously embarrassed. “How are you doing in there, Shell?”

“Fine.” I opened the door and handed out the dress.

“I’ll wrap this up for you,” she said.

“Do that,” said Cade.

It was stupid to think that I’d be the only girl he’d ever bought clothes for, I told myself as I finished getting dressed. It wasn’t as if he’d been living under a rock before he met me. And there wasn’t anything between us, anyway. So, he was free to buy as many dresses for as many women as he wanted.

But suddenly, the whole thing seemed tainted, and I didn’t feel bubbly or warm anymore.

I was actually developing a wine headache.

I emerged from the dressing room.

He was tucking his change back into his wallet. “We don’t have to be there until nearly eight,” he said. “You’ll have time to work on your comic and then we can get some food.”

“Okay,” I said.

He looked up at me, but then he looked away.

And I didn’t know what to say.

* * *

Cade

I took her home. To my actual house. I took girls here sometimes, if I had to bring them home with me. I didn’t like that, because then it was hard to get rid of them, and I often wanted to get rid of them. So, generally speaking, if I met a girl at a bar or something, I tried to get her to invite me back to her place. Much easier that way.

The only woman who I’d ever brought back here with any regularity was Angie, and I didn’t like thinking about that. I probably only was thinking of her because that stupid woman at the store had the nerve to bring her up. I could have slugged her for doing that.

Anyway, my place was my sanctuary. I’d had it custom-built, and it was tucked away on about fifty acres, meaning that I had a good bit of privacy. Having that much land meant it wasn’t really close to the city, of course. I was about an hour’s drive away. The solitude was worth it to me. The house was very modern. It had a lot of sharp angles and black marble and glass walls. I liked it to feel open, to let in the light. This was the place that I didn’t have to hide.

When she saw the place, Shell seemed impressed, and that pleased me.

She tried to hide it, tried to act as if she thought the house was no big deal, but I could see that she was a little awed by it.

I wasn’t sure why I was glad of that. I guess I just liked her thinking well of me, thinking well of my accomplishments. It was stupid, maybe a dumb guy thing to care about, but I liked that I could impress her. I wanted to impress her.

Even though I knew that it was stupid to bring her back here, because now I would have memories of her here, and after she left, there would be rooms that I wouldn’t be able to stand being in for days afterward. I loved my house. I loved the solitude.

Sometimes, though, I had to admit that the solitude could be crushing.

I could have taken her somewhere else. I should have. We could have gone to headquarters. We could have gone to a hotel room. But I brought her here.

I was stupid, all right.

Once we were settled in, I left her to work on her comic strip, which I had to admit that I was curious about. I wanted to see it, but I didn’t dare ask. Since it was on the Internet, however, I went searching for it, and it wasn’t hard to find. She seemed to write a strip about a single girl in D.C. who drank a lot. It was funny. The main character was unlucky in love and looked a lot like Shell. I could only suppose that the thing was semi-autobiographical.

There was a donate button on the site, and I clicked it.

It asked for the amount I’d like to donate. I typed in five thousand dollars.

Too much. She’d wonder where it came from.

I typed in one thousand.

Still too much?

Maybe I could donate five hundred twice, from two different Paypal accounts. I had two, one legitimate, one not so much. But I really shouldn’t use the unlegitimate one for something like this.

I sighed.

I typed in five thousand again. Let her wonder.

* * *

Cade

I clutched Shell’s elbow, steering her through the ballroom. It was all low lighting and understated decor. There were waiters with black bow ties going to and fro with glasses of champagne, and the guests were gathered in small groups, wearing their designer clothing and making pleasant faces.

“Smile and keep your chin up, love, like you’re too good to be here. It’ll help you blend in,” I whispered in her ear.

She looked amazing in the dress, and I had been right that she would stand out, that everyone would look at her, and no one would look at me. My client had gotten me onto the guest list at this charity function, held in the ballroom of a ritzy hotel downtown. I had planned to come alone, but having Shell with me was the perfect disguise. No one would look twice at me. She was handy to have around, actually. I wondered if maybe, after this was all over, she’d want to—

But that was ridiculous. Even though there was some crazy sexual tension between us, a girl like Shell would never willingly extend her interaction with a guy like me. I knew that.

It was best to enjoy the moment, not to dwell on the future.