Fatal Evidence

by Kari Lemor

  “They?” Why did he even ask? He should be walking away from this piece of trash.

  “The rich girls. They might dabble in the lower class for a bit of fun, but they won’t ever stay there. Look at Charlotte, flirting with the waiter. She might fuck him a few times, mostly to piss off her mother, but when she gets married, it’ll be to one of us.”

  “One of us?”

  Clif rolled his eyes, tipping his head. “Well, one of my kind. Someone with a name and money. Old money.”

  Old money. He was doing well with his business and if this mill ever got renovated he’d be doing better, but he certainly could never compete with that kind of money.

  “Great chatting with you, Heather’s business partner. Sorry, not good with names. A little parting tip, she has this freckle on her inner thigh, if you nip a tiny bit up from that, she’ll go nuts.”

  Heat permeated Scott as he watched Clif amble away and slide his arm around some other scantily clad debutante. Getting tips on how to sexually please the woman he was with wasn’t why he’d come here. Or be reminded others had seen her naked and enjoyed her body.

  Like the man who currently had his arms around her back in a fake hug, slipping his fingers into the side of her dress, hoping to cop a feel for those gorgeous tits Clif had talked about. Heather laughed and took a step away but continued the conversation. What happened to his warrior princess who would have slugged anyone else for doing that? Was this guy such an important contact that manhandling was allowed?

  Grabbing another drink from a passing waiter, he turned to see if he could locate Drew. As much as he wanted to be with Heather, he wasn’t enjoying this side of her. The rich girl side. He downed the drink and snagged another.

  Nicoletta Silva appeared next to him and he almost turned to run in the other direction. Her smug grin let him know she wasn’t coming over for a nice chat. Although she’d probably make it sound like one. She had that knack.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Scott?” Yes, pleasant and polite, as expected.

  “I’m fine, thank you. The food and drink are wonderful. Congratulations. It looks like a big success.”

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes drifting around the room. “Of course, we’ll see how much of a success when all the donations are tallied. If my estimation is correct, we should be able to count on two million for charity.”

  Two million dollars. Holy shit. There couldn’t be more than two hundred people here. He did the math and forced a smile. Hope she wasn’t counting him in that donation.

  “I’m so glad Heather was able to find something appropriate to wear for the party tonight at such short notice. Do you like her dress?”

  “Absolutely.” He wouldn’t let her know what he wanted to do to Heather in that dress. Although Clif’s words kept dulling his enthusiasm. The alcohol was dulling some things too.

  “Typically she might get a dress custom made for her for an event like this. Luckily one of the stores had this in her size, and it works well, even if it was a less expensive dress. The tailor-made ones run far more than two thousand and also take a longer time to create.”

  “Two thousand? Dollars? For her dress?” Were his eyes bugging out of his head. Why the hell would anyone pay that much money for some stitched fabric? He took another swig.

  “Yes.” Nicoletta patted his arm. “Get used to that if you plan on sticking around. Heather is acquainted with this kind of life and she expects it. She may seem more down to earth when she’s with her friend, Callie, but here is where she belongs. Look at her, she’s in her element with these people. This environment.”

  “Certainly looks that way,” he mumbled, still wondering how he’d ever afford to buy her clothes like that. The answer was, he wouldn’t.

  “Of course, if she had someone more in her league, she wouldn’t have to lower her standards of clothing and accessories. She does love her Jimmy Choo’s.”

  “Jimmy…?”

  Brushing an invisible strand of hair off her cheek, she laughed. “Her shoes. She does love her shoes.”

  He loved them too, and the way they made her legs look when she had on a shorter skirt.

  “Those were only five hundred because we carry them in the store and she gets a discount. Often she’ll order Manolo Blahniks or Louboutins straight from Europe and they’ll be a bit more.”

  Damn, you could barely see the shoes under the long train of the dress. Were they encrusted with diamonds?

  “It was lovely chatting with you, Scott. Hopefully we’ll see you around if you aren’t busy on the construction site.”

  As she walked away he wanted to brush himself off and make sure he wasn’t covered in sawdust and dirt. It was how she’d made him feel. Even though he owned a large construction company that was successful, he would always be a construction worker in the eyes of everyone here. For now, he needed some air. He finished off his drink, slapped the empty glass on a table, and stalked off.

  The men’s room was quiet and nicer than anything he’d ever seen. He splashed some water on his face then took a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing here? He was a blue-collar worker, an ex-military man, who worked with his hands and liked a cold beer when he watched sports on TV. This wasn’t his idea of a good time.

  When he went back into the large hall with the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Waterbury, Heather stood gazing out, only a few other people milling around. The view of her gorgeous back was better than the one out the window. She’d come to mean a lot to him in the last few months. Heck, if he was being honest, the last few years as they’d been pretending to be together. But now he had to think about this.

  Would she be happy with him? They seemed okay now, but what about if he wanted to get serious? Like marriage serious? He and Patrice had been going along well enough until he’d mentioned marriage. Then she’d ripped his heart out and left him bleeding all over the floor.

  Would Heather do the same thing? Did he want to give her the opportunity? Watching her tonight, he’d realized she truly did belong in this world. She understood it, knew how to manipulate it. Thrived on the give and take, the back scratching and deal making. It wasn’t his world. It never would be. This type of environment would make him crazy in no time and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach it, even for her. Was it time to bow out gracefully? Before either one of them got hurt. Further.

  As she turned around he almost lost his nerve. The smile she gave him lifted his heart, warming him all over. Until he thought of her insisting he wear suits and ties that she’d bought for him. Expensive ties that cost hundreds of dollars. Having her style his hair to her liking so he didn’t embarrass her. Demanding he accompany her to these shindigs and kowtow to the high and mighty old money folks. Until she dismissed him from her life because he didn’t fit in. That image stabbed through his lungs so much he couldn’t breathe. But if he waited it out and stayed with her, loving her more, it would be far worse.

  “I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were all right.” Her long manicured nails stroked up his arm. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a step back. Not a big one, but enough to put a little distance between them. Her smile faded.

  “This place makes my skin crawl.”

  Looking around, she said, “Why? What happened?”

  “Nothing specific. I came out here so I wouldn’t embarrass you anymore.”

  The hurt expression that crossed her face dug into his soul and he faltered. He was doing this for her too, though.

  “Embarrass me? What are you talking about? I’m not embarrassed by you.”

  “Maybe you should be. I’m hardly of the same quality as most of these other people.”

  “Listen, Scott, I don’t give a shit what these people think. Of you or me. I brought you here because I wanted you here.”

  Lifting his hand, he caressed her soft cheek. H
e shouldn’t since he didn’t want to let go. “That’s a great thought, princess, but let’s face it, I don’t fit in with these people. They’re all a bunch of rich snobs, and I’m only a carpenter.”

  “Where is all this coming from?” The crack in her voice let him know she was getting upset.

  “These people here, Heather, I’m nothing like them. They wheel and deal and backstab and manipulate. All in the name of business. As long as it’s for a good cause, it’s okay to do whatever it takes to get your way.”

  “They aren’t all that bad.”

  “I’ve been listening to quite a few conversations tonight.”

  Glancing away, her shoulders rose and fell. Yeah, try and deny what he’d heard.

  “And you introduced me as your partner.”

  Her head whipped around, her eyes glowing fiercely. “What did you want me to say? ‘This is Scott Holland. He and I are having hot monkey sex in his kitchen.’ Would that have been less embarrassing?”

  “So, you are embarrassed that we’re sleeping together?”

  “Of course not, but it’s hardly the place to announce it to the world.” Her gaze flew around the hall, relief apparent when no one seemed to be focused on them.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Guess this is more proof I don’t belong here with all of these beautiful people.”

  Tipping her head, she frowned. “I’m not like most of them.” She stared at him as if looking for an answer. He didn’t have one. “But you still think I am. Don’t you?” Her voice squeaked at the last two words.

  Eyeing her expensive dress, he let his mind wander to everything he’d seen and heard tonight. “Well, aren’t you?”

  “You can ask me that? Seriously?” The pain in her tone ripped him apart but this wasn’t something that would go away. She’d always be the rich little girl of a megamillionaire and he’d always be the son of a carpenter.

  “Letting that guy touch your ass as you got his business card, or the other one who tried to slip his fingers into your dress, that’s all part of a normal world?”

  Her lower lip trembled and she clamped her mouth together. Turning slightly away, she took a deep breath in. When it came out it shook. She took a few more breaths and he could see her trying to get her expression under control. Her profile was strong and her jaw tight then she faced him again. “I’ll stay with my sister tonight,” she whispered, “and send someone for my things in the morning.”

  Damn, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her sadness away, but it would only hurt worse for both of them if their feelings grew any stronger before they realized their relationship wouldn’t work. Because it couldn’t.

  “Yeah, you…send someone. Can’t break a nail doing it yourself.” Leave her with him being a bastard. It might get some of that fight back into her. He loved that part of her. Damn, loved! It shouldn’t be that far already.

  As she turned to walk away, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Here, I’ll grab a cab.”

  Confusion lit her face. “I don’t have anywhere to put them and I don’t have my license. Take the car and someone will pick it up later.”

  “I don’t want it.” He’d had too much to drink and he didn’t want anyone coming over to remind him what a stupid thing he was doing by letting her go. He took her hand and shoved the keys into her palm, walking away as fast as he could. Not before he’d seen the sheen of moisture in her eyes.

  The elevator would be too slow so he took the stairs. He might even skip the cab and walk back home. It was only about ten miles. He’d done that in full gear and a sixty-five pound pack on his back through the desert. This would be cake. It would give him time to cool down and get his emotions under control.

  The image of her as he left wouldn’t be dismissed. Her face had been like stone but her expressive eyes couldn’t hide the fact she was close to tears. Come on, warrior princess, buck up. You’re stronger than that. Stronger than me. You’ll survive this. He wasn’t sure he would.

  As he started down the busy street he thought about their interaction. He’d been a jerk, but better to get rid of any thoughts of being together now than later when his feelings were already in too deep. Or maybe it was already too late.

  * * * *

  Heather clenched her jaw and pushed back her shoulders as Scott walked away. He was walking away. From her. Damn him. Didn’t he realize how she felt about him? Of course not, because she’d never told him. Hadn’t made it apparent to anyone here tonight that they were a couple. Had been a couple. Would it have mattered? Would he still have seen her as one of the spoiled, pampered guests who manipulated others to cater to their whim?

  Something wet dropped onto the hand she held at her throat. Tears, shit, she never cried. Okay, maybe when her house had blown up but certainly never over a guy. Voices at her back had her rushing into the ladies’ room and slipping into a stall. Leaning against the side, she let the pain come and the tears fall. Silently, though, because after all she was still Heather Silva and she had a reputation to uphold.

  Damn Scott, he was right. She was a spoiled little princess who usually got what she wanted. And right now, she wanted him back here, telling her everything was fine and they’d make it all work. But all her Daddy’s money couldn’t buy someone’s love. She’d learned that the hard way at twelve when she’d found out her Hollywood crush was already married and couldn’t be bought to be her boyfriend.

  A toilet flushed a few stalls over and she flinched. Had they heard her sniffling? Would they even now be bending over to see the bottom of her gown to surmise who was in here so they could go back out to spread some juicy gossip? Water in the sink ran then a few moments later the door sounded and a quiet greeting floated through the air. Damn, someone else had come in.

  Her eyes and nose ran so she grabbed some toilet paper and tossed the keys, the damn keys to the rental car that Scott wouldn’t take, onto the back of the toilet so she could blow her nose.

  “Sweetness.” Her sister’s voice drifted through the door. “Is that you?”

  “Char?” She couldn’t stop the wobble in her voice. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was there this big empty hole in her chest? “Is anyone else out there?”

  Charlotte moved closer to the door. “No, it’s only us. Are you all right? I saw you run in here a few minutes ago.”

  Slowly easing the door open, she glanced out at her sister. Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. “You’re crying. What happened? My big sister never cries. Tell me who did this and I’ll punch their lights out.”

  Heather laughed in a snorty, pathetic kind of way. It was the threat she’d always used whenever Charlotte cried. Now she took her hand and pulled.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up then you can tell me what’s wrong. Where’s your purse?”

  “I left it on one of the tables when I was helping Mom with something.”

  “Good thing I have mine. Stand right there.” Charlotte wet a wad of toilet paper, grabbing the keys she’d left in there, and gently dabbed at the skin under her eyes. Damn, her mascara trailed right down to her chin. After some concealer and a dash of powder, her sister dragged her into the other section of the powder room where there were upholstered chairs and benches. Heather sat near the corner so her back was to the door. She didn’t need anyone coming in, seeing her looking such a mess. The tears weren’t quite done yet.

  “What happened?” Charlotte sat in a chair across from her, rubbing her thumbs over Heather’s hands. “I thought I saw Scott leaving when I came out. Did something happen to Jack or Callie?”

  “No.” Oh God, that would be even more awkward now than after they’d slept together in Vermont.

  Her sister didn’t say anything more, simply stared at her. It was a trick their mother always used, but Heather would never tell Charlotte that she was copying their mom. She’d hate it.

&nbs
p; After another minute of silence, she sighed. “I guess you could say Scott and I had a fight.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. But it’ll be fine, you’ll see. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you tonight. He’ll spend a little time by himself then realize he can’t live without you. Back in no time.”

  Too bad she couldn’t believe that. Shaking her head, more tears rushed to her eyes. Too bad he’d spent so much time watching her. Scott had seen Walt Sorensen grope her backside. The poor guy was half-blind and was looking for his cane. Which his wife had but didn’t want him using because it didn’t look proper. Stupid woman. He’d immediately apologized to her and his face had turned beet red. Lawrence Dalton was another matter. He’d been rather blunt in what he was aiming to find when he slid his hand around her back and into the side of her dress. But the man was a distributor for their clothing line and she couldn’t afford to piss him off. And his wife was a lovely person who didn’t need reminders what a scum she’d married.

  She couldn’t even imagine the other things Scott had overheard or seen. It was what happened at these events. Women mingled and men made deals. Often women made deals too. But favors were exchanged for future favors. He wasn’t wrong. Simply wrong for her.

  But why did he feel so right when they were together? Why did his lips on her skin make her feel like she was free-falling? The sound of her name on his lips send chills running through her core? His presence beside her while watching TV or eating dinner give her the most content feeling she’d ever had?

  “He won’t be back.” God, it hurt to admit that. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

  “Of course you can, sweetness. I’ll even let you have my bed. Or we can snuggle together like we did when we were little and eat popcorn and watch ridiculous movies.”