“We’re ready to order,” I said to a passing waiter.
Roland waggled his bushy brows while I untangled my arm from his. “This one seems to want to get out of here as soon as possible,” he said with an obnoxious grin.
Oh, if you only knew.
We had just ordered our dinner—another raw-meat extravaganza for Nina, a petite filet for me (watching my weight, remember?)—when I dragged Nina to the bathroom.
“Are you having fun?” Nina asked, obviously oblivious to the three shades of purple I turned after a half hour of gritting my teeth.
“So much. Like Pap smear fun.”
Nina rolled her eyes and glanced in the mirror—her eyes steady on her lack of reflection while she glossed up her pout. “Give him a chance.”
“I have given him a chance.”
“Harley says that Roland just gets nervous, but once he’s over that, he’s really a great guy.”
“I’ve given him a chance and now I’m climbing out the bathroom window.”
I spun on my heel and Nina grabbed my wrist, her cold fingers nearly cuting off my circulation. Her eyes were wide and pleading, and her newly glossed frown was real.
“Please, Sophie. I really, really like Harley, and I think things could go somewhere for us. I’ve never met a man who I’ve got so much in common with.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“I mean, we’re both Tauruses. We both like to dance. We’re both writers.”
“And one of you is alive, and the other one is—”
I clamped my mouth shut as the bathroom door swung open and a centerfold blonde walked in, teetering on enormous heels and balancing an enormous chest. She glanced down at Nina’s hand on my wrist, then quickly up at the mirror. I saw the confusion register in her eyes, and Nina and I both stiffened until the blonde teetered past us and locked herself in a stall.
“Just be nice until dinner is over, and then I’ll never ask you to do anything for me again. I swear.”
Nina looked earnest, but the last “something” I did for her was still lurking on our living-room couch.
“Come on. For me? For true love? I’ll even eat anyone you want.”
“Fine.”
Dinner passed uneventfully; and although I prayed for everyone to pass up dessert, Roland ordered a conglomeration of everything on the menu, plus a cup of tea for the “little lady.”
It’s times like these that I wished I had taken up with Steve, the blue cheese–smelling troll.
“That was torturous,” I said to Nina as I trudged through the apartment vestibule after our date finally ended.
Nina didn’t answer; she just continued her love-swept twirl and her tonally challenged rendition of “Up Where We Belong.”
Chapter Eighteen
My blaring cell phone woke me from a deep sleep, but I managed to catch it on the second ring, mashing it to my ear and upsetting ChaCha.
“Sophie Lawson,” I answered.
“Lawson, I need you.” Alex’s voice was tense on the other end of the line.
Sophie Lawson: Hot Commodity Once Again.
A delicious chill zapped down my spine and I sat up straight, glancing at the red glowing numbers on my alarm clock. It was three o’clock and Alex needed me. My whole body went on high alert; everything jumping to attention. Maybe this night was looking up, after all.
“Are you here? Where are you?”
“Do you have a pen?”
I fumbled in my desk drawer—my pen poised over the back of a plea to save the whales, or to avoid circuses or something.
“Take down this address.”
The little chill in my spine dropped below my belly button and worked itself into a full-on heat.
An address? Alex didn’t have a home address, so was this ...
“It’s a crime scene.”
Everything dropped inside me. “Of course it is.”
“Romero called me. He said you and he had a little meeting on the dock a few days ago.”
“How come you haven’t answered any of my calls? Things are exploding—”
“Look, Lawson, I don’t have much time, and I can’t be on the phone. Romero called this in and I need you to look into it.”
I felt a lump forming in my throat, felt my eyes start to mist. “I need you.”
“I know you can handle it. I won’t be away forever. I need you to get down to the Paradise Hotel, 101 Folsom Street.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t have a car.”
I could almost see Alex’s eyebrow cocking. “What happened to your car now?”
I thought of my beat-up car, and the scrawling across the front windshield. “Nothing. I’ll just grab a cab.”
There was a quick knock on my door. When I opened it, Will was standing there, a big goofy grin on his face. His car keys were pinched between forefinger and thumb.
“Ready?”
“I can’t talk now, Will. I’ve got to get to—”
“One-oh-one Folsom.”
I blinked. “Were you listening in on my phone call?”
Will snorted. “Like I don’t have better things to do. Your angel boy told me I’d better help you out with this one.”
I gaped at Will. “I can handle a lot of things, Will, but you and Alex working together?”
Will just shrugged and ushered me toward the stairs.