An I.O.U. from a Billionaire

by Olivia B. Dannon

  “Mr. Wainwright,” Agatha spoke his name urgency in her voice.

  Liam halted mid-stride. “Yes?”

  “Detective Jones is here to see you.”

  And there goes my good mood.

  Extending his hand, Liam said, “I’m Liam Wainwright. What can I help you with, Detective Jones?”

  “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “Yes, my office is right this way.” Liam took the lead. “Any messages?” he asked Agatha as he passed.

  “Oh yes. One from Joan. I’ll have it for you when you’re finished.”

  Liam paused. “Read it to me, please.”

  Agatha picked up her notepad. “Ms. Taylor in the study with the guilty noose.”

  “What?”

  “She said you’d understand. It was from the game of Clue you played at the dinner party last night.”

  Liam nodded. “Right.”

  What the hell is Joan talking about? Guilty noose?

  Sitting behind his desk, he nearly forgot about the detective. “What brings you by, detective?”

  “Are you aware that Alise Crenshaw has been missing for more than twenty-four hours?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve been trying to track her down myself.”

  Detective Jones was watching his body language. “Her father, Mr. Crenshaw told me that you have spoken with Alise. Is this true?”

  “No. It’s not. I was dating Alise and took her to a hospital benefit in Arizona. When I defended another woman, I fear Alise became jealous and left. I can’t be sure because she didn’t say anything to me before she left but I was told she took a taxi to Scottsdale.”

  The detective opened his notebook and started scribbling in a hurry. “How did you say you came by this information?”

  “The security at the benefit captured Alise getting into the cab. My private assistant took the cab information down and phoned the cab company. While they were unable to provide us with an exact drop-off location, they did tell us it was in Scottsdale.”

  “Why are you trying so hard to find her if you’ve moved on with another woman. A very beautiful, younger woman as I understand. Isn’t it more convenient to just let her go?”

  “The Crenshaws are family friends. Besides that, I never intended to break Alise’s heart. If that is the case, I owe her a sincere apology.”

  Detective Jones shrugged tucking away the notebook in his inner jacket. “Sounds awful nice for a cutthroat businessman.” He stood up from the chair. “Maybe you followed her to Scottsdale and made sure she wasn’t going to come crying home to Daddy.”

  “I have a team of surveillance that follow me wherever I go. My whereabouts are documented not only in writing but by film as well.”

  “Why so careful? Need an alibi for yourself often?”

  Liam remained seated to show the detective he was in no hurry to be rid of him. “Four years back there was a stalking incident. The filming of my movements and surroundings allow my security to watch for any suspicious behavior since my inventions contribute to matters of national security. Do you have any other questions?”

  “Just a few. Ms. Taylor, that’s Joan Taylor your new fiancée correct?”

  Liam nodded.

  “She’s been with you quite a bit as of late. Especially since no one has seen Alise. Matter of fact, I tried to reach her and found out she’s not at work. She’s staying at your house and from the sound of it, she’s holed up in your study with,” he grinned, “what was it again? A guilty noose?”

  You’re killing me, Joan. Literally killing me.

  “Is your question whether or not Joan has solved the last game of Clue?”

  The detective laughed as he opened the door. “I’ll be looking into your alibi, Mr. Wainwright. As we see it, you’re the last one to see Alise alive. If we don’t find her soon, I may be back with a pair of bracelets not made of solid gold.” He left purposefully leaving his threat hanging in the air.

  Liam picked up the phone on his desk. “Get me Joan,” he said when Agatha answered.

  Evelyn entered and then started to back up but he held his pointer finger up silently asking her to wait. The phone rang several times before she picked up. “Hello?”

  “What the hell is this Clue nonsense message you left me?”

  “I can’t really talk right now. Isn’t it obvious what the message means?”

  Guilty noose? She feels guilty about sleeping with me?

  “Last night was a one-time consensual act. No reason to feel guilty.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Liam?” Fran came on the line. “We’re in the middle of a fitting. Talk to Joan tonight.” The call was broken.

  Liam looked at the phone in his hand and then dropped it into the cradle. “Where are we on finding Alise, Evelyn?”

  “People don’t exactly want to turn over their surveillance to us. We’re not cops, Liam.”

  “I’ll call Westley. They’ll know him and be more trusting.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Good idea. Was that the cops I saw leaving?”

  “Yeah. We really need to find Alise.”

  “And the conversation you just had?”

  Liam scowled at her. “Yes?”

  “If you wanted to continue something with Joan, why would you tell her that it was just a one-time thing in that tone? It was like she means nothing to you.”

  “Why do women do that? My tone was appropriate. Reassuring.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “No it really wasn’t. Do you like her or not, Liam?”

  “Shut the door.” Liam stood up and waited until the door was closed. “I don’t know what it is you expect me to do. Joan is a nurse, licensed in the state of Arizona. She’s not going to give that up to be with me. She feels guilty for having sex last night with me, regrets being with me already. I should what? Add to her regrets? Ask her to give up her career for me?”

  “You can build a home in Arizona. You’re only here now because of the wedding. You telecommute from all over the world, Liam.”

  “She told me people were coming after her in the ER. If she’s with me, then it isn’t safe for her there.”

  Evelyn maintained eye contact. “You’ll never know what she wants, or what she’ll say to being with you unless you ask.”

  “Tell you what. Since you’re so wrapped around the idea of me and Joan, I’ll let you go check in on her while I fly to Arizona to meet with Westley and look for Alise.”

  “No. You can’t go to Arizona with the police watching you. What if something really did happen to her?”

  Liam picked up his stack of paperwork from the meeting. “Then I’ll know I did everything I could to try to find her.”

  ***

  Joan watched as Fran returned to the couch with Joan’s phone.

  Hansen knows. She thought wishing she could have told Liam. He’d scared the pancake orange juice goop back up into her throat when he’d appeared in the study. Apparently, he was making certain the room was ready for entertaining.

  He’d been standing there through everything she’d said. When Hansen guessed the gist of what was going on, Joan told him she was going to tell Fran and be honest but then Hansen told her not to.

  “Lie,” he’d said. “Keep playing along. Finish what you started. It’s the best for all parties concerned.”

  Now she was having her measurements taken on a platform in front of Fran and the surprise guest Fran flew in – Joan’s mom.

  “Remember the time when you could actually have a conversation without these things butting in?” Joan’s mom asked Fran gesturing to Joan’s mobile phone.

  Fran nodded her agreement. “Absolutely. My son Cole is the worst. I’ve had to ban his phone and tablets from the dinner table. Otherwise I might forget what he looks like with the tablet blocking his face constantly.”

  They laughed together as Chandra’s assistant continued to take measurements and chatter nonstop about celebrities who swear by Chandra’s brand.


  “Who’d like to see the bride try on some dresses?” The assistant squealed when she failed to inspire any excitement in Joan.

  Fran and her mom both squealed with the assistant, her mother clapping at the same time. “I can’t wait, Jo.”

  Joan forced a smile doing her best to make it appear natural. She followed the assistant into the dressing room in the white shirt she’d put on earlier.

  “I’ll be gone just a tick while I gather up some dresses.”

  “Take your time,” Joan told the assistant. As soon as she was gone Joan approached the rack of dresses in the hall and found the price tag.

  $18,000 dollars! I could buy a car for that price.

  The assistant returned with a rack filled with dresses. “Ready to get started?”

  “No not really.”

  “Sure you are.” She picked a dress from the rack. “Do you like this style?”

  Joan checked the price tag. “Nope. I want something more simple.”

  “Okay, how about this one?”

  $10,000.

  “Better but we’re not quite there.” Joan went to the rack and began combing through the price tags. The lowest price was still $8,000. “I’m on a budget.”

  The assistant looked at her like she was speaking a different language. “You want me to call you Bridget?”

  “What? No. I want to see dresses that are less costly.” Joan spoke slowly to ensure the assistant understood.

  “Why? You’re here with Fran Wainwright. She insisted on buying your dress.”

  “I’m buying my dress.”

  The assistant shook her head. “Don’t be silly. She’ll pay triple the price if you love the dress. You can pick any dress you want in this entire place. It’s every bride’s dream to pick the perfect dress.”

  “My price range is five hundred to twelve hundred max.”

  “We have many dresses for well under twelve hundred thousand, ma’am.”

  “One thousand two hundred dollars max, and that should include the veil.”

  The woman cringed. “That won’t due for a Wainwright wedding. I’m not sure we carry anything less than five thousand.”

  “Are you going to help me or am I going back out there and telling Fran that you refuse to get me what I asked for?”

  “No, I’m going to find you something. Just… just wait, right here.” She rushed away leaving the rack of dresses. Joan exhaled as she began to calculate how long she was going to be packing her lunch so she could pay off the credit card she would have to use for the dress.

  After a few minutes with no sign from the assistant, Joan decided to take a better look at the dresses on the rack. The first was thirty-five thousand dollars and Joan wanted to see if she could find the reason why it would be so much.

  The princess skirt stood full, with sparkly gems at the waist. “I bet these are diamonds.”

  “Joan,” her mother whispered loudly. “What’s taking so long? Do you need help?”

  “No,” Joan said spotting her mom at the stage curtain. “Thank for coming, Mom, I know this is all pretty sudden.”

  “It is sudden but I’m glad to see you taking a leap. You’ve always been so careful. I think it’s good to leap when you know what you want. So don’t listen to your father. He just isn’t ready to let go of you yet.” Her mom dabbed at her eyes as she finished.

  Joan forgot the dress and went to her mother. “Is that why he didn’t come with you? You’re not losing me. Should I call him at home?”

  “He came with me,” her mother said in a lowered voice that Joan almost didn’t hear.

  She waited for her mom to expound upon what she’d said but her mom was getting starry eyed looking at the dresses. “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure but I know we’ll see him around dinner.”

  Joan wrung her fingers. “Is he that upset?”

  “I wouldn’t say upset so much as I’d say determined.”

  “To do what?”

  Her mom pointed over at the rack of dresses Joan was looking at earlier. “Are you going to try one of those on?”

  “Mom. Where is Dad?”

  “Every father has the right to meet their son-in-law before the big day.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. Your dad knows what he’s doing. See you out there, honey. This is such a special day.” She kissed Joan on the cheek and stepped back to the other side of the curtain.

  And the guilty noose tightens.

  The assistant returned at last with two dresses. “I assume since you don’t accept help from anyone, you’ll be dressing yourself as well?”

  “If I need help with a zipper, I’ll let you know.” Joan took the two dresses into the dressing room. The assistant was furiously muttering to herself outside the door.

  Joan checked the price tag of the first. Five thousand was crossed out in red and written in was twelve hundred dollars with the added note of special exception.

  She shimmied into the dress, pulling it on over her head. Annoyed with the assistant, Joan managed to get the dress zipped up. When she turned around the filigree framed mirror reflected back the ball gown skirt and heart shaped corset bodice, Joan sighed.

  This is so depressing. The first time I try on wedding dresses and it’s not for my wedding. Not a real wedding.

  “Smile,” the assistant told her as soon as Joan emerged from the dressing room. “You look beautiful, that’s something to smile about. Right?”

  Joan could see she was just going to keep talking if Joan didn’t smile so she did.

  “That will have to do I guess.” The assistant hissed as she threw aside the curtain.

  Fran and her mom were drinking champagne and chatting until Joan walked out. Then they were oohing and awing. Fran was snapping pics with her cellphone.

  The process repeated another three times as the assistant worked like a scavenger finding dresses she could mark down so that Joan would try them on.

  Joan stopped looking in the mirror after the first dress. It was too depressing to keep torturing herself. She dressed back into the confidence outfit she’d arrived in and left the dressing room.

  “You found one you like then?” the assistant asked.

  “Probably, I… my mom will tell me which looked best.”

  The look of disgust on the assistant’s face made Joan feel like an ingrate, so she exited through the curtain and sat down next to her mom.

  “Well? Which one did you fall in love with?” Fran asked flipping through the pics she’d taken.

  “Was there one that you both thought looked best?” Joan asked.

  Fran leaned forward with her phone and scrolled to the third dress. “I like the cut of this one,” she flipped back to the second dress, “the skirt of this one,” she scrolled to the last picture, “and the train on this one.”

  “Okay. Is there one that overall is the most complimentary on me?”

  Fran set down the champagne glass. “You aren’t attached to any of them?”

  “You should be the one to pick, Jo. You look like a dream in all of them.”

  Joan smiled, loving that her mom wasn’t pushing any specific style. Fran handed her the phone and Joan scanned the pictures of herself not seeing the dresses but the look of panic on her face in every picture.

  Some dream, Mom.

  “The second one is the one,” Joan said handing back the phone. Honestly, she didn’t know which one was the second one. It didn’t matter. It was a wedding dress and that was the only requirement to be met in Joan’s book, at least as far as fake weddings go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Can you say awkward?

  The Wainwrights and the Taylors seated in the formal dining room, putting on an engagement dinner for Liam and Joan, except Liam wasn’t back yet. This left Joan the center of attention, the exact seat she took great pains to avoid.

  “Was it love at first sight, Joan?” her mom asked over the sound of her father’s growl at her side. “Or love at first kiss?”
/>   “I can’t speak for Liam, of course.” Joan began trying to buy some time. “But for me,” she smiled and cleared her throat, “it was at our first poker game.”

  Her mom and the Wainwrights laughed. Her father just kept giving her that worried look he’d worn all through Kenna’s chemo treatments.

  I am going to murder Liam for making me go through this alone. Joan downed the expensive wine from the Wainwrights own vineyard.

  Hansen arrived as she set down her glass and began to refill the cup. “I’d slow down, Ms. Taylor. Don’t want to trip yourself up.” He cautioned quietly.

  “Where is Liam?”

  “Out of pocket, my dear. Best to carry on as well as you can.”

  Joan caught his arm when he started to leave. “Sit with us, Hansen. You were at that poker game.”

  “Yes, tell us about it, Hansen.” Fran smiled. “Don’t leave out the sparks either.”

  Joan stood up. “I’m just going to call Liam and see what’s keeping him.” Stepping back from the table, she dialed Liam. She was on her way out of the dining room but then she saw her father scooting his chair out to follow after her.

  Not another lecture, Dad.

  She stayed in the dining room to avoid the private conversation her father wanted to have with her. The phone rang four times before it was answered. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” she asked, keeping a smile on her face for their families who were talking but watching her too.

  “Tracking down Alise.”

  “Can you get your ass back here? It’s our engagement dinner.” Smiling through that sentence proved easier than the last.

  Liam answered without taking even a breath. “No. I have video surveillance to watch. It could lead us to Alise.”

  “It seems like someone else could watch a bunch of videos. You are seriously going to leave me to do this all by myself? If you don’t get over here in the next—”

  Tatum took the phone from Joan. “I got this,” he said winking at Joan with his hand over the mouthpiece as he walked out into the hallway. “Liam?” he said into the phone. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, you don’t have to rush I’ll help Joan through this dinner.”