“You asked me to come over and do your hair for tonight, remember?”
“Oh. I forgot. Sorry,” I grumbled.
Danny was an absolute miracle worker when it came to my hair. In no time at all he had my curls behaving and had put it in a half-up-do with long curls falling down my back. If only I could control my life half as well as he could control my hair.
Chapter Five
After Danny left I was bored. I couldn’t do anything that required getting dirty, which pretty much ruled out doing anything around here, so I decided to go and see how Riley was getting on. I’d heard him return from the hardware store but he’d been pretty quiet for the last half hour. I wandered up to the attic to check out what was happening, and found Riley sitting on the floor with a couple of floorboards lying loose around him.
“What ya doing?” I asked.
He jumped.
Ha! Good to see I can sneak up on him as well.
“I was fixing this loose board and found this,” he said, handing me a small black velvet box.
Sitting on the floor beside him, I opened the box and was surprised to find the most exquisite white gold, diamond engagement ring I’d ever seen. The diamond must have been at least a carat, but what made it unique was the band—lots of scrollwork and encrusted with diamonds.
“Wow,” I said, breathlessly. “Is that all that’s under there?” I asked, hoping it would be accompanied by a note explaining how it got there. Riley pulled up another board and looked through the years of dust and dirt. Pulling out a pile of letters tied together with a ribbon, he handed it all to me whilst he took another look.
“Oh, good.” I sighed. I hated mysteries. I’m one of those people who liked everything to be written in black and white, in clear uncomplicated instructions. For example, I was hoping the first of these letters would tell me who they belonged to and why they were hidden. Of course, that’s not how this story was, though. Nothing in life was ever that easy.
“That’s it. That’s all there was,” said Riley, sitting back and looking at me. I already had the ribbon untied and was carefully extracting the first letter from its envelope. It was addressed to someone named Avis.
“I think Avis was the name of the lady who previously owned this house,” I explained. As Riley leaned over my shoulder to look at the letter, I felt my pulse kick up a notch.
“Maybe they’re from her lover.” He smiled. I looked at him and once again felt my brain cells frying. Riley had the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen. It’s like the sun—outshining anything in its orbit. I would have to work on my immunity to it or I could see I would be brain dead before the two weeks was up.
Shaking myself back to the reality in front of me, I thought back to the sale of this house. I had bought it at auction and from memory the contract was with a solicitor somewhere in the city.
“Maybe. I’m pretty sure a trustee sold the house. I was under the impression the previous owner had no family to leave it to,” I said, ignoring the palpitations I was getting as Riley reached over and took the rest of the letters from me.
Looking down at the paper in my hands, I noticed how the pages had yellowed with age and saw the lovely scrolled handwriting on the envelope.
“This one contains a photo,” he said, handing me an old black and white image of two people standing outside the front door. The door hadn’t changed in all these years; it just had less dry rot and a better paint job then.
Both people in the photo were on the small side. The lady, who I assumed to be the previous owner Avis, was wearing a knee-length dark colored skirt and pale, long-sleeved jacket pulled in around a small waist. The man was in a dark suit, a tie and a trilby hat. They looked like the perfect couple.
“They look so happy.” I smiled, taking the photo as Riley opened the pages wrapped around it. I forgot all about the paper in my hands as I watched him silently read the contents of a letter. His eyes moved from side to side as he read, amusement dancing in his eyes at the words. When he finished, he looked up at me and caught me staring at him. Oops.
Quickly looking at the photo in an attempt to hide my glowing cheeks, I thought about the couple smiling back at me. Something about them made me want to know their story and, as much as I hated mysteries, I did love a good story. Excitedly, I opened the pages and started to read.
My Darling Avis,
Why? Why do they not accept us? Why do they hate us so? These are the questions that keep me awake at night. I live them, I breathe them, I even dream of them. The only time I’m not thinking of them is when I’m thinking of you. I pray that the answers will come to me, because if I can answer these questions, then maybe we can be together. That’s the only time that I am truly happy.
Have strength my love, I won’t give up.
Will.
“Wow. I wonder why they weren’t accepted.” I said, looking at the photo again.
“I wonder how long these have been hidden under here,” said Riley, wiping the dust off the rest of the envelopes. I watched as he counted them. Twelve. There were twelve letters in total. One by one, we carefully opened them, pulled the yellowed paper from its hiding place and read the contents. By the time we’d finished, I sat back, rested my back against the wall and let out a deep breath. We were still none the wiser as to how or why this had all been hidden.
“We probably should try to find out who the ring belonged to and return it to them,” I said, looking at the ring as it stared back at me from its black velvet bed. This ring had a story to tell. One I’m sure didn’t end happily.
“Maybe we could talk to your neighbors. They probably knew Avis and might be able to give us some pointers on where to start looking.”
Sitting here with Riley was quite fun, and I was starting to get used to the room feeling much smaller whenever he was in it. We’d sat there for about an hour, and even though I had absolutely no make-up on, I didn’t feel self-conscious at all. Let me tell you, that’s quite unusual for me. Most of the time I’m around good-looking men, I act like a mute idiot.
However, the screeching of the doorbell rudely interrupted my afternoon of history and fantasy. Wondering who the heck it was, I looked at my watch and realized it was already five o’clock. Damn.
Running down the stairs, I opened the door to a confused Scott. In his defense, he’d been expecting to find me completely made up and wearing a red dress. Instead, here I stood in my old flannel shirt and jeans, hair perfectly styled in a half-up-do and completely devoid of make-up.
“You’re not ready?” he asked incredulously.
“Um…not quite,” I answered, moving aside as he stepped in. “But it won’t take me long.” I gave him my biggest smile hoping that would put him in a better mood. I should have known better.
“But I told them I’d meet them at the restaurant at six. It’s already quarter past five and we have at least a half an hour drive ahead of us!” he exclaimed, sounding quite panicky.
Judging by the storm brewing in his eyes I may be in trouble. Crap. This was not the start to the evening I had hoped for.
Leaving Scott in the lounge room, I headed back up to the bathroom and applied the required amount of make-up in record time.
I had the dress he’d given me hanging in my temporary wardrobe—aka a packing box—and pulling it out, the first thing I noticed was the price tag. Scott had given me this dress a few weeks ago, but with everything going on, I hadn’t even looked at it. I knew it was red and strapless, and that was about it.
I will admit to being shocked by the price. I guess it proved how important the meeting was to Scott that he would spend almost a month’s wages on a dress for me. He wasn’t usually big on gifts.
Now red isn’t a color I would normally wear, and strapless was a risk when you have a bust the size of mine. But, I guess I’d just trust his judgment and enjoy the gift for what it was.
Slipping out of my clothes, I pulled the dress on feeling a little breathless. It was absolutely stunnin
g…until I tried to do the zipper up.
Did I mention my breasts are a D cup? This dress was made for a skinny ass, B cup.
What was Scott thinking? The last time I was a B cup was when I was twelve and wearing a training bra.
Not one to give up too easily though, I managed to breathe in and flatten my boobs as much as humanly possible, and with the help of a very amused Riley, I even got the zipper up.
I can’t say the reflection I saw in the mirror was a good one though. I had flesh popping out under my arms and over the top of the tight bodice, and the split up the thigh was a little bit higher than I would have liked. Actually, it was a lot higher than I would have liked.
Riley didn’t seem to mind it though. “I guarantee if you go to a business meeting in that dress, Scott will get anything he wants,” he said, laughing.
He really was enjoying this. “Oh my God. What am I going to do?” I asked, completely bewildered by the predicament I found myself in.
“You’d better go and show him,” Riley said, his grin still firmly in place.
I thought about this for a second. Looking down at my breasts, I weighed up my options. They were limited.
Oh well…time to face the music.
I felt slightly light-headed as I walked down the stairs—probably from the lack of oxygen. Breathing was not something I had room to do. Scott stood in the hallway watching me walk down towards him. I could see his face get paler the closer I got.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked, holding my arms out and forcing a smile on my face. I really didn’t need to ask the question. What he thought was written all over his face.
“You look like a high priced call girl!” he growled through gritted teeth. “You do know how important tonight is for me, don’t you?” I could see the color returning to his cheeks, which were now starting to match the dress. I thought he might be a tad angry.
“Of course I do. But I didn’t buy the dress, Scott. I mean since when have I ever been small breasted?” I asked haughtily.
“If you’d tried it on when I gave it to you, you might have bothered to lose some weight!” he snapped.
“It wouldn’t matter how much weight I lost, I would never fit this dress!” I yelled, feeling a need to defend myself. His comment actually hurt. Even though I’m not fat in any way, I’ve always been curvy. That didn’t prevent Scott from constantly trying to change me, though. I turned and walked back to the bedroom.
I mean, I know on the right woman this dress would be stunning. I just wasn’t that woman. But the right woman was the one Scott deserved, wasn’t it? All he’d asked me to do today was wear a beautiful dress and look my best. Any normal woman could do that, couldn’t she?
I could feel the tears prick the back of my eyes and my heartbeat became heavy. Once again I’d failed him. Bugger.
Determined not to mess tonight up completely, I opened my boxes and quickly ran through my options. I knew somewhere I had a jacket that could maybe cover up some of this cleavage. As it was, I would probably give the poor businessmen a heart attack before dinner was over.
After ripping into box after box, I decided I needed to clear out some of my clothes. Eventually I came up with the jacket I was looking for. Molly had passed it to me in one of her closet clean-outs. Along with quite a few other items, this one was too good to throw away but too last year for Molly. The label read ‘Zac Posen’ and it was black with feathers stuck to the bottom edge of it. It probably wasn’t the best accessory to wear with this dress but it would have to be good enough.
Slipping it on, I realized I still couldn’t quite do up all the buttons and had a moment of thinking Scott was right. I should go on a diet. I’ll start that tomorrow.
Grabbing my purse, I held my head high and walked downstairs to meet Scott, quickly checking the clock as I did so. Hmm…five forty-five...well if Scott drove fast we would only be about fifteen minutes late.
Riley was leaving as I walked into the kitchen but he turned and looked as I entered the room. I thought I saw a look of approval in his eyes, but then again I didn’t know him well, so who knew. Scott on the other hand looked like he had gas. He had a pinched look around his mouth and a deep frown between his eyes.
“I’m sorry, it’s the best I could do,” I said apologetically.
“Fine.”
This was the only conversation we had all the way to the restaurant.
* * * *
Scott had chosen a beautiful restaurant in the heart of the city. It was high-end and served only the best food and wine money could buy. The only problem was they wanted to keep their patrons comfortable and as this evening was cool, they had turned the heating up a bit too high for someone wearing a wool blend jacket. By the time dessert was served, I was sweating quite profusely.
“Are you okay, Elizabeth?” asked Donald Shepherd, the lovely elderly gentleman of our group. His manners were impeccable and several times this evening he had inquired as to how comfortable I was. His grandson Rodney was not so gentlemanly though. If I’d caught him looking at my cleavage once, I’d caught him a dozen times. Like I said, the jacket didn’t quite close, which gave everyone a small view of my generous assets.
“Yes thank you, Mister Shepherd. I’m fine.” I smiled, discreetly fanning myself.
“You’d be more comfortable if you removed your jacket,” said Rodney. “Let me help you,” he suggested, pushing his chair backwards, ready to stand up and help remove my clothing.
“No,” I snapped.
Scott glared at me as Rodney looked a bit taken aback by my abruptness. “Elizabeth feels the cold very easily,” Scott said, in way of explanation.
All eyes turned to me. I felt the sweat run down my neck and between my breasts. Rodney’s eyes followed it.
“Yes. That’s right. I feel the cold very easily.” I picked up my glass of water and downed it, hoping it would extinguish the internal inferno I was experiencing. “Maybe you will all excuse me for a moment,” I said, standing to make a fast escape to the ladies room.
Inside, I stripped off the jacket and used the paper towel to mop my armpits and cleavage. It was quite a bit cooler in here and I wondered how long I could stay before Scott noticed I was missing. Sitting down on the chair provided, I slipped off my shoes and rubbed my heels. What I really wanted to do was rip this dress off and never have to wear it again. Grabbing the bodice around the bust line, I wiggled and tugged until it was up where it should be, exposing only slightly less flesh than before. I thought about going into the toilet cubicle and undoing the zipper for five minutes to allow myself to breathe, but I was afraid if I undid it, I would never get it back up. I sat back and rested my head against the chair. Taking a few breaths, I enjoyed a few moments of relaxation, knowing only too soon I would have to put the jacket on and walk out to leering Rodney, where I would have to smile and pretend I was enjoying it. I let out a small sigh. My moments of peace and quiet were over all too soon though. Just as I was contemplating slipping on my shoes, the door opened and in walked three ladies, obviously all friends.
“Did you see the way he was looking at you?” one of them said to the group.
“Yes. What a creep,” replied the woman who’d been looked at. I wondered if they were talking about Rodney.
“He was trying to see in here when we walked in. Should we report him to management?” asked the third friend.
“Yeah, well he was standing outside the door to the ladies toilets. Maybe he was waiting for someone.” They all turned to me. I watched as they looked me up and down, taking in my ample chest and the amount of thigh I was showing from the long split up the dress. Judging by the looks I was getting, they probably thought Scott was right. I looked like a hooker. I let out another sigh and leaned forward to put my shoes on. Grabbing my jacket, I flung it on as I stomped towards the door, listening to the whispers that followed.
I took as deep a breath as possible before opening the door and prepared the speech I was going to give R
odney about how I have a lovely boyfriend and wasn’t interested in him.
However, once outside the door, the only person I could see was a tall, bald-headed man who looked to be in his forties. He turned away from me when our eyes met; obviously embarrassed he was caught hanging around outside the ladies. Maybe the women should report him to management.
Chapter Six
By the time dinner was over and we were saying our goodbyes, I’d consumed quite a lot of wine. It had felt like the best way to get through the rest of the evening. I should probably let you know I’m not much of a drinker, so it didn’t take much for me to be intoxicated. Add to that my lack of oxygen and I was holding onto Scott’s arm in an attempt to stay focused and upright. Lucky for me the evening was a success and Scott was in a good mood. He even seemed supportive when Rodney slid his hand across my bottom whilst leaning in for a friendly goodbye kiss on the cheek.
I chose to ignore the irritability I felt at this and focused on staying happy. I was hoping later this evening I might even get lucky—if you know what I mean. I have to admit that with all the pheromones Riley put out, I was feeling amorous. So, as you can see, I needed Scott to remain in his good mood.
Allowing the valet to open the door to Scott’s beautiful black Mercedes C63 AMG, I slid onto the leather seat, enjoying the cool sensation seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. I loved everything about this car but I especially loved driving it. Not that I got the opportunity very often. It was fast, and Scott complained I drove like a madman when I had my one and only drive.
His mood had improved dramatically from earlier in the evening. Obviously all the stress of trying to win a new client had him pretty wound up. And much to my relief, he hadn’t mentioned the dress.
The Westport Mysteries Boxed Set Page 4