Roberts polishes off his glass of whiskey, and I follow in suit. "Dinner was great," I tell him, closing the conversation.
"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me," he responds cordially. "I'm looking forward to hearing what you find out this week."
"Absolutely," I tell him.
We both stand from the table and take a couple of steps toward the exit when Roberts grabs me by my jacket sleeve. "Pierce," he says under his breath. "I can trust you with this case, can't I? I mean, you know what's at stake here." Two fingers from his free hand jab into the center of my spine, sending along his message loud and clear. I either walk away without a criminal record, or I am dead.
"Yes, sir, you can trust that I will handle this situation." Meaning, Isabelle will end up dead.
He slaps my back with laughter. "I'm just messing with you kid. I know you'll do right by me." It's no joke. He's made it clear several times.
"Thank you, again," I offer before taking the lead out of the restaurant.
I walk in the opposite direction of the hotel, afraid to run into Everett and Isabelle. My walk around the city has caused a buildup of the anxiety that has been brewing, and for the life of me I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about this.
21
Harley
Everett called a Town Car when Axel disappeared inside of the restaurant, and the car arrived in less than five minutes.
Everett beats the driver to the chase and opens the back door for us, allowing me to slide in first. I'm careful as I awkwardly shimmy across the slick leather in my tight-as-hell dress. Everett slides right up against me, placing his mouth near my ear. "I have to say, you make that dress look like every other dress in the world should burn with embarrassment.”
Taking his compliment silently, I comb my fingers through my loose curls, not knowing what I should say in return. Everett hasn't been shy with his flirtatious manner, but I’m wondering if it is just his personality, or if there is more going through his head. I believe my answers are slowly rolling in, however.
A groan rumbles from Everett's chest as he breaks the stare I have felt burning against the side of my face.
Spending the first few years of my twenties ignored by most men due to the nature of the business I’ve been associated with, I’ve become accustomed to the dark tunnel of loneliness. This attention is new, and while hard for me to accept, it isn't the most unfortunate situation in the world. Both Axel and Everett are incredibly good-looking men, and almost any woman in my situation would feel like the luckiest lady in the world. However, it's more than a little important to remember why I'm here, and it isn't to be the bachelorette of choice.
We pull up to a tall building with blue and black windows that stretch up to what seems like a mile above us. The building is sleek looking and surrounded by clean, white cement. A doorman in a red suit is standing outside of the revolving front door that flashes with a sparkle bouncing off the interior marbled floors.
The doorman spots us as the car settles into park, and tends to my door first. I feel out of my element as he reaches his gloved hand inside to help me out, but I try to remind myself I'm in a pricey dress that doesn't leave much room for error, and a hand is a lovely gesture at the moment. It’s an odd feeling, living like royalty after I've been responsible for a number of deaths this week and was hungry and homeless just a few days ago. I’m not sure how this has become my life.
I'm escorted around the car and brought up to the revolving doors where Everett is waiting as if he were my husband, or something other than a co-worker, and it’s an odd feeling—one I can see Everett doesn’t mind one bit. The doorman tips his head toward us, and Everett whispers in his direction as he shakes his hand.
This feels wrong. I saw the discontent in Axel's eyes when he was forced to attend dinner alone, and I'm now wondering if this was Everett’s idea all along. In any case, I can assume he doesn’t know that Axel and I screwed earlier, or he wouldn't be layering the charm on so thickly right now.
While escorted into the small, quiet restaurant that’s lined with a row of crystal chandeliers and dark hardwood floors, we’re greeted by the bone-chilling sound of silverware gently tapping against china, and the mouth-watering scents of lemon and ginger. We’re seated almost immediately and brought over to a kitty-cornered booth with a small table in the shape of a half-circle.
"You think Axel is doing okay?" I ask Everett through a whisper. I’m truly curious but also bringing back the reminder that we are not on a date. It feels necessary to make that clear, judging by the ambiance and the other couples surrounding us who all seem to be gazing at one another in trance-like states.
"Of course he’s okay. He's Axel. Axel is always ‘okay,'" he says, curling his fingers into air quotes.
"What does that mean?" I press.
"You never quite know what's going through his head. It's probably one of the reasons he was in the psych ward for so long." I almost forgot Axel mentioned this little tidbit of information before I was sent in to silently convince Shawnda she'd be better off dead.
"Why was he in a psychiatric hospital?" Axel has told me he’s innocent, but I feel like there is more information, though I’m sure Everett won't divulge it.
"It was part of his plea bargain during his trial for homicide." Regardless of having no right to blink at the word homicide, I do so anyway.
"What happened?" I ask.
"Honestly, I'm still not sure." This will be the second time I've pressured Everett for information about Axel, but he's either telling the truth or awfully loyal to him.
"Hmm," is all I can manage to respond with.
"We don't need to talk about Axel tonight," he suggests as his arm wraps around me and picks at my woven bracelet. "You never take this thing off, huh? Must be from someone special.”
Between his words, assumptions, and proximity of his breath tickling the side of my neck, I immediately shrug him away. "Everett," I say, lowering my shoulder out of his hold. "This isn't a good idea."
He clears his throat and straightens his jacket, definitely uncomfortable as he scoots over a few inches to put some space between us. "I'm so, so sorry. I—”
"It's fine, really, no need to be sorry,” I tell him. I need air, and a lot of it.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asks. There's something so innocent about the male brain when it comes to women. It's like they have every ounce of confidence a person could have up until the moment they experience rejection, and then the sound of glass smashing against a hard floor echoes deafeningly in the center of their heads. As the heartbreaker in this situation, I can't help feeling a load of guilt for turning him down.
"No, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just not someone you should want to get involved with." That's honest, but if it were entirely honest, I would also have said the same to Axel.
"I know the truth," he says. "I know who you are and that you're hiding. I get it. We've all been in the wrong place at the wrong time."
I find myself staring through Everett as a waitress places a couple glasses of water down in front of us.
"I’ll give you two another few minutes to look over the menu,” she offers with a small smile.
"Thank you,” Everett responds to her.
Once the waitress is out of hearing distance, I respond to Everett’s comment.
"Hiding is temporary," I tell him.
"It doesn't have to be," he argues.
"Yes, it does. For me, it has to be."
Everett remains quiet for longer than he has since the moment I met him. Whether it’s rejection or something else causing the silence, I'm not sure, but it's disconcerting to make him or anyone upset while I'm in the situation I'm currently in. I can’t even fathom what would happen if he were to find out about what went on between Axel and me.
"So, do you two travel a lot?" I ask, remembering I already asked them this question earlier.