Still, I made a weak attempt to convince her that I couldn’t possibly eat all the cupcakes. She simply gazed at me in silence and eventually I just sighed. Who was I kidding? Of course I could eat them. And Derek would help.
Alex was long gone and I was getting ready for bed when Derek finally finished up his conference call.
We talked as he hung up his suit jacket and undressed. He mentioned a new client his company was working with. I told him all about Alex, her cupcakes, her job.
I held back any mention of the naked man. Instead I said, “I forgot to tell you that I invited her to the party.”
“That was neighborly of you.” He glanced over at me. “Alex is short for what? Alexis? Alexandra?”
“Alexandra,” I said. “Alexandra Monroe.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Monroe. That name sounds familiar.”
“James Monroe was one of our Founding Fathers and an American president.”
“Thank you for that history lesson,” he said dryly.
“Marilyn Monroe was an iconic American actress of the nineteen fifties and sixties.”
He shook his head.
“Monroe. It’s both a doctrine and a shock absorber. And our new neighbor.”
“You’re a sassy wench.”
I laughed as the words rolled off his tongue. Amazing how that British accent could make a cheeky insult sound like a heartfelt compliment.
“We have a lot in common,” I said, trying to return to the subject of the moment.
“You and James Monroe?”
“No, you nutball,” I said, still laughing. “Me and Alex. Our neighbor. I think you’ll like her. She loves books and reading and wine and good food. Wait till you try her cupcakes.”
“I plan to have one for breakfast.”
“Great idea.”
“I have a million great ideas. Here’s another one.” He climbed into bed, turned off the light, and pulled me close. It was late and I was sleepy and content, but something he’d said a minute ago was gnawing at a tiny corner of my brain. Finally, it hit me.
“You’re going to investigate her,” I said, affronted.
“Hmm?”
“That’s why you asked about her last name. You’re going to vet her, whether I agree to it or not. I think I should be insulted.”
Ever since someone I liked very much and invited into my home had turned out to be a vicious killer, Derek had been overly cautious about the people I allowed myself to befriend. I appreciated his concern but I believed I’d become a lot more discerning since then.
“Go to sleep, love.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck and I didn’t want to think too much after that. But I was so going to give him grief in the morning.
Chapter Ten
Over coffee, eggs, and, yes, cupcakes the next morning, Derek and I discussed the last-minute plans for Saturday’s party. It promised to be a beautiful day in the Bay Area. The food order had been placed with Piccolo, our favorite local Italian deli, and the guest list was finalized. And speaking of guests, I broached the sore subject of him insisting on investigating Alex. “You should trust my judgment and leave her alone. I have a good feeling about her.”
But Derek wasn’t about to bend to my wishes. I could tell by the cute way he furrowed his brow. He probably considered it more of a stern look than a cute one, but what did he know?
“I do trust your judgment, darling, but this isn’t about that at all.” He reached out and caressed my cheek. “Indulge me. I’m merely concerned about keeping both you and our home safe from harm.”
I didn’t know how to counter that. Naturally, I appreciated his concern. I had suffered too many perilous moments over the past year, and we’d had several actual break-ins by bad people who’d damaged my stuff and scared me to death.
And in case my short-term memory was slipping, I had been threatened twice just in the past few days. And the other person who’d been threatened along with me was dead!
Still, I was annoyed on general principle. I liked Alex a lot and I was sort of afraid that if Derek did investigate her, he might find something to prove me wrong about her. But it looked like I was going to have to live with the annoyance.
“All right, fine. But I hope she doesn’t find out about it.”
“She won’t find out,” he assured me. “It’s a normal background check, the sort that’s done when someone applies for a job or rents an apartment.”
“If you say so,” I muttered, knowing Derek’s background check was probably going to be a lot more thorough than he would admit. By tonight, thanks to his friends in high places like Interpol, MI6, the FBI, and the NSA, he would know what size shoe Alex wore, who her third-grade teacher was, and whether or not she had cheated on any spelling tests. Derek took our security very seriously. And who could blame him? Not me.
“When you meet Alex,” I said staunchly, “you’ll realize that all of this intrigue is unnecessary. She’s a good person.”
His eyes warmed. “I’m already feeling kindly toward her after tasting this cupcake.”
“Aren’t they amazing?”