Dial A for Addison

by Piper Davenport

  “It’s not a ton of money,” Addison said, eyeing the sheets. “A couple grand here, a few grand there. Would someone really kill for this?”

  “Uh, that is a lot of money,” I said, doing the math in my head. “It’s close to a million when you add these all up. This is just the quarterly budget for my first quarter there. Who knows how long this has been going on?”

  Asher nodded. “And it probably still wouldn’t get them noticed in a company as big as yours. The question is… where’s the money going?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe Kirk found out about it and someone off’d him,” I said.

  “More likely Kirk the Jerk was in on it and the killer got sick of paying him off,” Addison said.

  We speculated a little more before I copied the spreadsheet onto another flash drive and handed it to Asher for safekeeping.

  “Had you not broken the law to get this, I could use it to request a review of the financials,” Asher said, stuffing it in his pocket.

  “Well, there was a version in my backup files, but it was corrupted,” I said.

  He scratched his chin. “Maybe we should let the dust settle on tonight’s felony before we bring it up.”

  “Probably a good plan. Wait, felony? I thought B&E was just a misdemeanor?”

  “You took something, Dylan. Breaking and entering with the intent to burglarize is a felony.”

  “That damn intent. Gets me every time. But honestly, my intent was to find something that could keep me out of jail.”

  He rubbed his temples then stretched and looked at his watch. “I need to get going.” He wrapped Addison in a hug. “About this benefit dinner you’ve been planning, Sis. Dad wants you to bring a date. Preferably one with a nice-sized bank account.”

  “Well that’s too bad for him, because I’m bringing Dylan,” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to her side.

  Asher frowned. His sexy, hungry eyes drifted back over my body before he locked gazes with me. “I was kind of hoping Dylan would come with me.” His voice was all low and husky again, making my knees weak and raising my temperature.

  “Oh. Oh!” Addison said, practically shoving me into him. “I’ll have to hunt down a sexy detective to bring.”

  Asher laughed, pulling me in for a hug and nuzzling my neck. “Poor Jake.”

  “Hey!” Addison said. “No need to feel sorry for Jake. I’m gonna rock that man’s world. You just take care of Dylan and leave Jake to me.”

  “I can do that,” Asher said. He ran his hands down my arms and grabbed my hands. He tugged on them until I looked up at him again. “Hey. Want to save me from death by boredom at one of my father’s functions next Friday night?” he asked.

  “Oh gee, when you put it like that…” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at my lips. I’m pretty sure I would have gone anywhere Asher asked me to.

  “And what about this Sunday? Feel like grabbing a bite or something?”

  I frowned. “Actually, I’m busy Sunday.”

  “You are?” Addison asked, butting into the conversation. “With what?”

  “You know, stuff.” I had planned to slip out without telling her—without telling either of them—because I knew how she’d react.

  “What kind of stuff?” Addison asked.

  Asher released my hand and took a step back, turning me over to his sister, who was circling me. She finally stopped, planting her feet so she could put a hand on her hip. “If you’re planning to go spy on suspects or follow up on leads without me, you—”

  “Neither of you should be doing that!” Asher interjected. “You guys are going to end up in jail. Or worse. You got lucky tonight.”

  “Everyone just chill the heck out and take a deep breath,” I said, trying to sound calming. “Quit jumping to conclusions. I’m not doing anything crazy, reckless, or illegal.”

  “Then what are you doing?” Addison asked. She clearly wasn’t going to let up until I told her.

  So I relented. “I got a job.”

  “Congratulations,” Asher said, smiling.

  “What? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?” Addison asked.

  “You were there when I unofficially accepted it.”

  Her face scrunched up. “Where? What are you talking about?”

  “Cleaning house,” I said, gritting my teeth. I didn’t want Asher to know I’d stooped low enough to take a job cleaning a pigsty. I had a college degree!

  Addison gave me another blank look, still not catching on.

  “For Quinton.”

  Her eyes widened in recognition. Then in disgust. “No. Oh, hell no. No.”

  “Addie, it’s a job, and I could use the money.” And this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in front of Asher.

  “Who’s Quinton?” Asher asked, leaning against the wall.

  “Just a friend,” I said.

  Despite my glare, Addison jumped in, “One of Dylan’s friends who’s a caregiver for his disabled mom. He’s really nice, like gave up his life to take care of his mom nice, but the cleaning of his house needs to be left to the professionals, Dylan.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I lied.

  “You’d have to buy a hazmat suit and those industrial grade cleaning supplies. You’d spend more money buying supplies than he’d pay you to do the work. I know his mom is hesitant to let people they don’t know into their home, but she’s gotta let that go, because Quinton needs help. I could give him some referrals.”

  “But I need the money.” I groaned. “My auto insurance is due soon.” Not to mention my other bills.

  “And you know what I need?” she asked.

  I shut my mouth so I wouldn’t spout out all the rude things racing through my mind.

  “I need a cook. I’m getting sick of eating out all the time, but I hate cooking. You’re a great cook, and you like to do it.”

  “Addison, you’re letting me stay in your place rent free. You don’t have to pay me to cook for you.”

  “No, but if you feel like you need to pull your weight, that would be a great way to do it.” She headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “We even have stuff in here to chop and sauté and whatever the hell you do with it. You cook for me, I’ll pay your car insurance and anything else you need.”

  It made sense but still, I waffled, knowing I should be doing more. “I’ll clean, too.”

  “Deal.” Addison grinned. “Now get in the kitchen and make me a sammich.”

  I did as I was told, but not before inviting Asher over for dinner Sunday night. Grateful my friend was bailing me out yet again, I was bound and determined to pay her back by making the best damn meal either of them had ever had.

  Addison

  FRIDAY MORNING (IT was 11:59, so still technically morning), I grabbed Jake’s card and dialed his number. Goodness, I was nervous. I didn’t know why I was, but I was.

  “Addison, you okay?”

  Yes, that’s how he answered the phone. It kind of startled me for a second and I apparently didn’t recover fast enough, because he added, “Addison? Say something, or I’m tracking your phone.”

  “Um, sorry,” I managed, my stomach flipping out with his endearment. “Ah, I’m fine.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure. Um, yes. Yes. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear. What can I do for you?”

  “Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go to lunch with me today. I’d like to pay you back for your act of kindness the other day.”

  “My act of kindness? You mean the peace offering?”

  I smiled, reliving the memory of him in my house. “Yes. So, lunch?”

  “You realize it’s noon, right?”

  “What time do you typically take lunch?”

  “I don’t. I grab a bite when I can, but I usually don’t have time to go to lunch.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Oh, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. Well, perhaps another time.”

  �
��I’m not sayin’ no, Addison.”

  “You’re not?” I asked, all breathy and excited and shit. Gah! I needed to get a grip.

  He chuckled. “How about I pick you up?”

  “Ah, well, okay.”

  “That doesn’t work for you?”

  “I just thought since I’m asking you out, perhaps I should make the effort to pick you up.” Maybe he didn’t want his precinct to see me strolling in to take him to lunch. I wondered what the rules were for fraternizing with the best friend of the enemy, so to speak.

  “Well, I’m of the opinion that when a beautiful woman asks me to lunch, I pick her up anyway.”

  I shivered as my face broke out into a grin of its own accord. He thought I was beautiful. “Ah, sure. What time would you like to pick me up?”

  “Twenty minutes?”

  I had already showered and blown out my hair... now I just needed to find something to wear. “Is thirty minutes okay?”

  “Sure thing. See you then.”

  He hung up and I made a mad dash to my room, yelling for Dylan on the way, “Help! I need something to wear.”

  When she didn’t snap to my command, I bellowed from my closet, “Dylan Linn James, get your ass in here and save my life, right now!”

  “What’s going on?” she asked from the doorway.

  “Jake’s picking me up in thirty minutes and I’m taking him to lunch. I need something that says, ‘Hey, I’ll let you enjoy the wonderland that is my body if you talk real soft-like.’”

  Dylan nearly choked on a laugh. “Ohmigod, you’re insane.”

  “Well, let’s not reveal that little nugget until after I’ve bedded him.”

  “Because your magical vagina will make him ignore the fact that you’re batshit crazy?”

  I jabbed a hanger toward her. “I’ll have you know, my magic vagina brings all the boys to the yard.”

  Dylan’s eyes grew round as saucers. She made a choking noise and keeled over, landing face down on my bed.

  I gave her a whole two seconds of death before I kicked the leg hanging off my bed. “You know that’s where the magic’s gonna happen, right?”

  She bolted off the bed and covered her ears, muttering gibberish about being scarred for life.

  I didn’t have time for her to have a traumatic episode. “But seriously, what should I wear?”

  “Wear the shirt you bought last month when you dragged me shopping and the jeans that’ll go with it.”

  I flicked hangers as I perused my closet. Most of my clothes had been purchased while Dylan was under duress. “That doesn’t narrow it down for me.”

  “You know. The blue sweater that dips low enough to show off the girls without being trashy, and the jeans with the rips in them.”

  “Shoes?” I asked, examining my collection.

  “The Jimmy Choos.”

  I gestured at the row of Jimmy Choos (all my shoes were in rows by designer, alphabetically). “I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.”

  “The ones you correct me on when I call them shoes.”

  I giggled. “The booties.”

  “Toddlers wear booties, grownups wear shoes. And those are like wannabe boots.”

  “You mean they’re perfect!” I exclaimed and raided my closet, dressing while Dylan flopped back onto my bed.

  “Are you going to ask him to the dinner?”

  “Hells yeah, I am.” I couldn’t stop a sigh. “Can you imagine that gorgeous ass in a tux? Good lord, I can.”

  “Do you think he’ll be okay with wearing a tux?” she asked.

  I sat on the ottoman at the foot of my bed and yanked on a bootie. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Do you think he can afford a tux?”

  I gasped, turning to face her. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “Well, you can always ask him and if he says no, then you’ll have to let it go.”

  “Ah, no, I’m not letting it go if it’s about money, Dylan,” I argued. “I’ll simply offer to pay for it.”

  Dylan groaned and dragged her hands down her face. “Addison! You sweet, naive, silly, silly girl.”

  “What now?” I asked, pulling on my other bootie.

  “Outside of the fact that Jake’s a grown-ass man, he’s also a little older than you, and if he can’t afford a tux, and you offer to pay for it, you run the risk of emasculating him.”

  I shrugged. “If me offering to pay for a tux rental emasculates him, then he’s not the man for me.”

  “How do you do that?” she asked in a whiny voice.

  “What?”

  “Just make a statement like that and have it be okay?” she asked.

  I smiled. “Jake’s gorgeous, Dylan, but if my money’s going to intimidate him, then it’s best we figure that out now. Because once he finds out how much I’m actually worth, all bets are off. I won’t know if he likes me for me anymore.”

  “He did do a background check on you. He probably already knows how much you’re worth.”

  “There is a great deal of it that won’t show up on a background check,” I reminded her. “The actual amount in my trust fund, for example.”

  She sat up. “Oh, yeah. I often forget about your one-percenter white girl problems. Must suck so bad to be you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry so much, honey. If he’s an ass, you can help me take revenge on him. If he’s not, then I’m gonna work really hard to peel every layer of his rented tuxedo off him next week.”

  “Well, I wish you and your magical vagina all the luck in the world.”

  “I don’t need luck, Dylan. That’s the whole point of having a magical vagina.”

  We both dissolved into giggles, but managed to compose ourselves just before Jake arrived.

  My doorbell pealed, and I adjusted my bra for optimum cleavage then headed to answer it. Peeking through the peephole, I bit my lip at the deliciousness that was Jake Parker and then pulled open the door. He wore dark jeans, black boots, and a tight-black T-shirt covered by a leather jacket. I swallowed, hoping to keep myself from drooling.

  “Hi,” I said. “Come in.”

  “Hey, Addison. You look beautiful.” He followed me inside and closed the door.

  “Thanks.” I grabbed my purse and smiled. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “’Bye Dylan!” I called, noticing she’d made herself scarce.

  I heard the muffled sound of her voice, but couldn’t make out what she said. I figured she probably wanted to hide, so I followed Jake to his car without seeking her out.

  “Where are we goin’?” Jake asked as he held the door for me.

  “How does the Serratto sound?”

  “Sounds good,” he said, and closed my door then jogged around to the driver’s side.

  It was a relatively quick drive to the restaurant, and before I knew it we were being led to our table. I took my seat and Jake gallantly waited until I was settled before taking his. We ordered our meal and I watched him study me. “What?” I asked.

  “Why’d you really ask me to lunch?”

  “I can’t simply take you to lunch to thank you?”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll be glad to go to lunch with you for any reason, but I’m thinkin’ this isn’t just about a thank-you.”

  I smoothed my hand over the napkin on my lap and smiled. “I was wondering if you would be interested in accompanying me to the fundraiser I’m organizing. It’s a week from Friday.”

  He sat back and raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me out on a date?”

  My stomach dropped a little and I suddenly wondered if a man like Jake might be turned off by a confident and outspoken woman. “Um. Yes, I suppose I am asking you out on a date.”

  “Just to be clear. I’m now oh for two.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’ve invited me on two dates, while I have yet to ask you out on one.”

  “Well, I don’t mess around.”

  “I can see that.” He gri
nned. “Will I be required to wear a tuxedo to this shindig?”

  “Yes, but I’m happy to provide you with one if you need it.”

  “I can handle gettin’ a tux, Addison.”

  “Right. Of course you can. I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “I’d love to go with you,” he said, letting me off my hook of humiliation.

  “You would?” I asked (a little too brightly).

  “Yeah, Addison, I would. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

  “Well, Daddy’s sending a limo, so, six?”

  “Six is perfect.”

  “We’ll be riding with Asher and Dylan. Will that cause an issue for you?”

  “Because she’s a suspect?”

  I nodded. “I don’t want anything to jeopardize her being exonerated, or make you look guilty by association.”

  “You let me worry about my reputation, yeah?” He leaned forward. “And since she’s innocent until proven guilty, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Perception can be an ugly thing.”

  “Yeah, it can, but I’m not worried.”

  I bit my lip. “That makes one of us.”

  Jake chuckled. “It’s all gonna be okay, Addison, you’ll see.”

  Bolstered by his confidence, the rest of lunch was filled with topics of a non-arrest nature, and when he walked me to my door, I was even treated to a gentle kiss on the cheek. I figured we’d move on to making out in the hallway in the next phase of my making babies with Jake Parker plan.

  Dylan

  JAKE DROPPED ADDISON off after lunch, and she floated in the door and crashed on the sofa, high-heeled wannabe boots hanging over the arm. A perma-grin stretched across her face, making her look wasted.

  “Have you been drinking?” I asked, eyeballing her. Her pupils did look a little dilated.

  She giggled. “Not alcohol.”