Once we were on the sidewalk, I had to skip to keep up with his stride. It wasn’t easy to do in the black pumps I’d borrowed from Lillian that were at least a size too big.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” I yelled over the traffic.
“Lola.” Noah sighed and stopped dead in his tracks so I could catch up. “It’s a receptionist position. You think they’ll hire a receptionist who says she can barely email?”
“It’s not like I grew up with that stuff like everyone else.”
“Neither did I! But I’ve at least tried to pretend I’m part of the twenty-first century.” He pushed his dark blond hair off his forehead. He looked handsome, even when he was frustrated.
“Well, you knew all that before you recommended me for the job,” I reminded him.
“I assumed you’d embellish the truth a little.” He couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice. “Everyone does that in job interviews.”
“Well, you could have told me that.”
He shook his head in frustration.
“Well, I’m sorry.” I sighed.
His tone softened. “Don’t be. I just wanted this for you, that’s all.”
“I know.” I tightened my hair elastic. My high ponytail was already falling apart. “I’ve never been rejected outright at an interview, so that’s a new one. Normally they say they’ll decide and call me back.”
“And how often do they call back?” he asked.
“Rarely.”
We were silent for a few minutes as we dodged passersby.
Noah broke the silence. “You wanna get a bite to eat?”
“No, I’m trying to make the change in my purse last me until Friday.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Anyway,” I continued. “I have to return this wallet I found yesterday. The owner is in the Upper East Side.”
He looked surprised. “Really? Can’t you just send it.”
“I want to make sure he gets it. Personally.”
“There’s cash inside?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
I wasn’t going to tell him about the letter I’d found. It almost felt disrespectful to divulge it to someone else. Like I’d been privileged with a cherished secret. It made little sense. Julian Lewin was a stranger to me. But I’d pried into his life, and the least I could do was keep my mouth shut.
“There’s valuable stuff in there.” I followed Noah down some stairs to the subway. “I would want someone to do the same for me.”
He shrugged. “I guess. But you shouldn’t be turning up to some stranger’s place alone. They could be a serial killer for all you know.” He glanced at me sideways. “I’ll come with you.”
When we arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I latched onto his bicep and gave him a cheesy grin. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
* * *
It was dark by the time we got to the address, and it was clear from the sound of music emanating out of the brownstone that there was a party happening inside. We watched from several feet away as a couple dressed in smart cocktail attire spoke to someone at the front door. He was a hulk of a man, dressed in a black suit. The couple talked to the man, and he marked something off on the clipboard he was holding.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Noah asked.
I nodded. There was no doubt about it. “But it looks like there’s a guest list.”
“So, just leave the wallet with the security guy, and we can go.”
I eyed the security man intently. “No, I think we can get in.” I reached behind me to open the zipper on the back of my dress several inches. “I’ll distract him while you try to get a look at the list.”
“Whoa—” Noah exclaimed, as he attempted to grab my wrist.
But it was too late. I was already marching up the stairs. By the time I stood face-to-face with the bouncer, Noah was only a few steps behind.
“Name,” the security man snapped. He seemed disinterested like he was staring right through us, instead of at us.
Noah served me a sideways glance, waiting for me to act.
I cleared my throat and pushed out my chest. Then, when I was ready, I spoke in my sweetest, most seductive tone.
“Excuse me, sir.” I brushed his arm with my fingers, almost as if it was by accident.
The security guard straightened up and ran his eyes down the silhouette of my body. Before he could say anything, I turned around.
“Would you mind helping me with my zipper,” I purred. “It’s stuck, and my friend here couldn’t get it up.”
I gestured to my open zipper, pushing out my behind to highlight my curves.
The man swallowed, his eyes trailing down the small of my back and then up again.
In my peripheral vision, I could see Noah’s eyes trained on the guest list. Still, the security guard’s attention was firmly fixed on me.
“Of-of course.” The bouncer’s voice wavered.
He reached for my zipper, and as predicted, it went up without a hitch.
I spun around and offered him a glowing smile. “Thank you so much. You’re a sweetheart.”
His cheeks went a slight pink as he tried to keep a straight face.
He cleared his throat, a scowl forming on his face as he directed his attention to Noah. “Name please.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hiscock,” Noah offered without hesitation.
I raised an eyebrow at him. His lips turned up as if he was trying to suppress a laugh.
The security guard ticked Mr. and Mrs. Hiscock off his list and then nodded toward the door. Noah opened the door for me, and we scrambled inside.
The sound of chatter and jazz music echoed off the marble floors in the main foyer.
“Hiscock? Really?” I walked further down the main hallway toward the music. “Was that really on the list?”
“Yep. I couldn’t resist.” He flashed me a mischievous smile.
I rolled my eyes.
We arrived in a large room where the guests congregated. The house itself was more like a mansion. I had seen nothing like it in New York. To be honest, I didn’t know places like that existed.
The style was dated, but not in a negative way. The furnishings were lush, expensive antiques. The walls were lined with rich wood paneling, and the floor was covered in marble tiles, arranged in a herringbone pattern. It was opulent. Not at all the place I expected a 30-year-old guy to live in.
“I’m gonna grab some food.” Noah glanced around for a waiter serving appetizers.
“Okay, I’ll go find someone who lives here. Meet you back here in ten.”
Noah nodded and disappeared into the crowd. I navigated through the swathes of well-dressed guests who were clinking champagne glasses and chatting away. At one point, a waiter offered me a drink myself, and I gladly took it.
I downed large gulps as I scanned the room. There were a bunch of guys there with dark hair and beautiful faces, but none of them were Julian. I only had that one photo of him in mind, but his face was striking enough that I wouldn’t miss it.
“Oh, sorry!”
I felt a splash of liquid on my chest. A girl in a slinky black cocktail dress had bumped right into me, spilling my drink. Her large brown eyes were wide as she apologized profusely.
She tried to pat down my breasts with a napkin to wipe away the champagne.
“It’s fine! Really.” I laughed.
She stood back and pursed her lips. “I’m so clumsy.”
“Me too. Trust me.”
She held out her palm. “I’m Minty.”
“Lola.” I shook her hand. “You wouldn’t happen to know if Julian Lewin is around here somewhere, would you?”
Minty narrowed her gaze. I couldn’t help but notice that she was looking me up and down.
She twisted a long wavy-brown lock of hair around her finger as she replied. “He is. Are you one of the new girls?”
“Sorry?” I furrowed my brow. “New girls?”
She eyed
me suspiciously for a moment before once again relaxing her posture. Her eyes softened. “Don’t worry. I thought you might have been from the agency, that’s all.”
“What agency?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card.
She handed it to me. “Una Dea. I work for them. They have great terms. A girl like you could make a lot of money. Gia, my boss, loves blonds. You have an amazing body—a tiny waist, round booty—that’s what’s in right now.”
“Oh.” I inspected the business card. It was an escort agency. It might have been the strangest conversation I’d ever had.
The girl before me didn’t look like an escort. Although I’d never met any.
Her dress was designer, so were her stilettos. Even the diamond studs in her ears looked real. With her dark brown hair cascading down her back, she looked a million bucks. She looked like she belonged at a party full of rich folks.
“I didn’t realize. I mean… you don’t seem like…” I struggled to find the right words.
“A hooker?” She responded with a knowing look, as if she’d been told that a million times before.
“No, I don’t mean—”
She chuckled. “It’s okay. Most people are surprised that I’m a companion when they meet me.”
“A companion?” I sucked down the remaining champagne from my glass.
“Yeah, that’s what they prefer to call as at the agency. Others would say we’re high-end escorts. Really, the work varies.”
“You mean it’s not all banging old dudes?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Minty laughed. “No, not at all. Some guys just need dates for parties like this or work events. And others want the full service.”
“I had no idea.”
She nodded. “Really. You should consider it if you’re looking for work.” She took another glance at my cheap shift dress. I guess I was the one who stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t hard to tell that I didn’t shop at the same stores she did.
She probably thought she was helping. I mean, I was desperate for a job. But not that desperate.
“I don’t think I could…” I answered, trying to think of a diplomatic way to say that I couldn’t sleep with men for money.
“You’d be surprised. It’s actually not so bad. Some guys are even cute. When you sign up for the agency, you give them your preferences. Some girls only do ‘dates’ and not sleepovers.”
“They don’t do sexual stuff?”
“Exactly. They don’t get paid as much as girls who will do everything, but it’s still way more money than you’d get from a normal job.”
“Right.” I didn’t really know how to respond. I slipped the business card into my purse. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
It was a lie. But her heart was in the right place, and I didn’t want to be rude.
She eyed me awkwardly, perhaps sensing my unease. “So you’re looking for Julian? I think I saw him head toward the kitchen.”
“Right. The kitchen.” I glanced around, wondering which direction it was in.
Minty smiled. “The basement kitchen.” She pointed to the hallway. “Go back toward the front entrance, and when you get to the stairs, head down two flights.”
“Of course.” I let out a long breath. “Thank you… and it was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
I smiled politely. “Sure.”
I made my way back across the room, which was even more crowded than before. When I got clear of a large group of ladies chatting in a circle, I picked up my speed.
As I careened around the corner and into the hallway where we’d come in, I smacked into someone coming from the opposite direction.
“Oh my!” A stern elderly woman stared back at me, dressed in a neat navy blue skirt and white blouse. “Watch where you’re going, lass, you’ll knock someone out,” she said with her Scottish accent as she clutched her chest.
“I’m so sorry!” I looked down at my purse, which was on the ground, its contents on display. “Shit!”
“Excuse your language.” The lady said, narrowing her eyes at me.
I rubbed my eyebrow. “Sorry!”
I could hear the woman sigh as I bent down to pick up my things. A moment later, she was bent down beside me, helping to pick them up.
“Oh—thank you. You don’t have to…” I shoved my make-up and scrunched-up resume back in my purse.
When I reached for Julian’s wallet, her hand was already on it. I glanced up. The old lady looked at the wallet in confusion and then back at me. She flipped it open, and as soon as she saw the license picture, a look of recognition sparked in her eyes. A look which soon turned to daggers as she glared at me.
“I-I-” I stuttered, as we both stood. This wasn’t good.
“What are you doing with Mr. Lewin’s wallet?” The skin around her eyes wrinkled even more.
“Well, actually, I found it—”
“I’m sure you did! Right in his pocket, no-less!” She grabbed my wrist with her bony, but deceptively strong hand, and pulled me into the hallway, away from the party guests. “I’m Mr. Lewin’s housekeeper, and I’ll not have thieves rifling through my house!”
I tried to shake free, but she only tightened her grip. Was this old lady on steroids or something?
“No, you—” I couldn’t get another word out. The security man from the front door raced toward us.
“This girl is a thief, Ruben!” The woman exclaimed to the security guard. She pointed at me with a long finger. Her other hand was still cutting off the circulation in my wrist.
“No. Seriously. It’s not what it looks like.” My voice was desperate now.
Ruben eyed me fiercely. “She’s not even on the list. She told me she’s Mrs. Hiscock.”
The housekeeper scrunched up her nose. “She’s certainly not Mrs. Hiscock!”
“I know that now. The real Mr. and Mrs. Hiscock just got here.” Ruben pointed to an elderly couple who hobbled past us with their walking canes as they entered the party.
I swallowed. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Right then, my smart-ass plan wasn’t looking so smart.
“Call the police,” the housekeeper said to Ruben. “She stole Mr. Lewin’s wallet.” She held it up.
He turned to me, looking pissed off. “Come with me, miss.”
“Honestly, you have to hear me out!” I looked between both of them this time, my voice raised. I tried to squirm out of the old lady’s grip once again. “This is ridiculous! You people are—”
“My people are what?” A low, penetrating voice boomed down the corridor from behind us.
Chapter Four
Lola
We all turned around in unison.
My stomach dropped.
A dark-haired man stood just a few feet away. His silhouette was striking. He was tall and broad across the chest. Even in his jet black suit, you could tell he was athletic.
But that wasn’t what shocked me most. It was his familiar face—his amber eyes and defined jawline. There was no mistaking it. He was Julian Lewin.
He wasn’t clean-shaven like in his license photo. Instead, he had a thick five o’clock shadow that made him look a little more rough around the edges than I’d expected.
“Well?” He ambled toward us, his eyes fixed on me.
“What I meant was…” The words would barely come out of my mouth. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
He offered a bemused smile. “OK. Let’s hear it.”
I looked down at my wrist that was still being strangled by the housekeeper’s vice grip. It was throbbing.
Julian nodded toward the housekeeper. “Let her go, Moira.” He examined me from head to toe. “She’s one hundred pounds soaking wet. She’s not about to go anywhere with the three of us here.”
Moira pinched her lips together as she glared at Julian. He shot back with his own fierce expression, and she finally relented. She released
my wrist and stood aside.
I rubbed my arm and glared at her, before turning back to Julian. “Your staff seem to think I stole your wallet, but I assure you—”
“It was in her purse!” Moira butted in.
Julian looked exasperated. “Let her talk.”
Moira crossed her arms. “Fine.”
Julian stood with both hands in his pockets, waiting for me to talk.
“I found your wallet in a dumpster yesterday in The Bronx. Well, it wasn’t exactly in the dumpster, I found it after I got out of the dumpster actually…” I trailed off as I took in the look of disbelief from both Moira and Ruben. Julian didn’t seem surprised at all. He was… amused?
No. I must have been reading him wrong. Was on earth was so damn funny?
He tilted his head to the side. “And why were you in a dumpster in The Bronx?”
“There was a chair in there that I wanted...”
Moira let out a small gasp from beside me, but I didn’t look. I could already imagine the look of disapproval that was surely etched across her sour face.
“Well, that sounds completely normal.” Julian’s tone was sarcastic.
Heat radiated up my neck. I could feel my ears burning up and was sure they were turning red like they always did when I was mad.
“You know what’s not normal?” I glared at him. “Detaining someone who is simply trying to return you’re lost wallet!”
He let a small chuckle escape his lips. “You’re completely right.”
“Sir, she impersonated Mrs. Hiscock to get in here. She’s a trespasser,” Ruben interrupted.
Julian widened his eyes in surprise. “Really? Mrs. His-cock?”
“That was regrettable,” I muttered, as I shifted on my feet.
I stared at the wall behind him, trying to save face. In light of recent events, my actions did seem juvenile.
But once again, Julian surprised me with his reaction.
“It’s fine, Ruben,” he said as if he was sick of the whole situation and wanted it to be over.
“But sir, I think we should call the police,” Ruben replied.
“No. She was doing the right thing.” He turned to Moira and took the wallet from her hands. “I lost it yesterday when I was downtown for an appointment. Someone probably found it and dumped it.”
Obsession: Seven Vices Series Page 2