by Lynn, Janice
“The agency that helped me track down Claire Davis, of course.”
Of course. Jude grinned, knowing that he had something real to go on. Finally.
Mandy rifled through the purse sitting on her dresser and handed him a business card. “Here’s Claire’s information. I’m sure she’s booked for months, but perhaps you could sweet talk her into designing my wedding gown?” She kissed him, cramming her tongue into his mouth. In effort to distract from her slip up?
Jude endured her kiss and managed not to vomit. Hopefully, he’d soon be able to tell Mandy to kiss his pearly white cheeks. But not until he knew what she knew.
And Claire Davis led him to where angels thrown out of heaven resided so he could toss one particular crooked haloed specimen back to hell.
Chapter Nineteen
Avery leaned against the buttery soft leather limousine seat and watched the city’s hustle and bustle on the ride from JFK airport to their New York apartment. Cassidy, Courtney, and Randi sat next to her.
They’d taken on three new marks in the city. Randi planned to handle two and Cassidy the other. Courtney declared she was attending some raging warehouse party one of her Hollywood friends told her about.
Really they were there to support her. She knew it. They knew it. It’s why she loved them.
She did love them. Love being an emotion inside her that meant she’d sacrifice her life and own happiness in return for their safety and happiness, individually or together. The wonderful thing was they loved her, too.
Which was why they were here.
To make sure she followed her heart.
To Jude.
Because at some point during that crazy week she’d fallen in love with him. Not lust. Not infatuation. Love.
Sure, the idea that a part of her happiness lay in Jude’s happiness scared her. Avery didn’t want to rely on anyone. Relying on others meant losing control. But she’d learned to rely on the TGEA girls, and she trusted them explicitly.
That trust had never been betrayed and gave her confidence.
She loved Jude enough to offer him her heart, to give him the opportunity to love her in return if he so chose.
It was insane. Probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but here she was in New York planning to see him.
She hadn’t worked out the details on how yet, but Randi restored his account, removed all evidence of monetary transfers. They’d been in touch with several media contacts. One of which planned to run a television interview with Jude, allowing him to reveal his side of the story, to restore his reputation.
Her biggest hang-up was figuring out how to be honest with Jude without taking a chance of Randi, Courtney, and Cassidy being hurt. Risking her own heart and life was one thing, risking the girls’ was another altogether.
“You’re doing it again,” Cassidy warned, holding Payback Puss in her lap. The cat had a travel carrier, but hated it. The moment they’d gotten into the limo, Cassidy had taken the cat out of the pet holder.
Avery looked from Cassidy and Randi who sat across from her to Courtney who sat next to her. “What?”
“Thinking too hard.”
As if sensing the need within Avery, they locked hands in their special hand shake. “All for one, and one for all.”
Payback Puss meowed.
Avery smiled at her family. Regardless of what happened with Jude, they would stand behind her.
Randi’s cell beeped.
“That’s Claire Davis’ ring,” she said, pulling the phone from where it was clipped to the inside of her waistband. Randi had a different ring programmed for each person who had her number. She pressed a button on the side of her phone to up the volume so they could all hear, then answered, “Hey girl, what’s up?”
“I have a persistent gentleman here who would like to know who I sold a particular green gown to and if I know who she might have loaned that dress out to or if I sold it to someone possibly going by the name of Angela Greene.”
“Holy crapola,” Randi said, holding the phone away from her ear. “Did y’all catch that?”
All three women nodded. Avery bit into her lower lip. Jude was at Claire’s? He was really looking for her? Why? For revenge or love?
“What should I tell Mr. Layman?” Claire asked.
Randi looked at Avery. “What do you want me to say?”
Avery took a deep breath. “Tell him the owner of the dress will be at,” she named the twenty-four hour bagel shop where they’d shared breakfast, “at eight tonight. If he wants to see her, be there.”
“Meeting on neutral ground?”
“Well, at least there will be witnesses if he attempts to kill me.”
Courtney’s face darkened. “I’m packing. You want me on stand-by?”
Avery rolled her eyes then stared at Courtney’s skin-tight black leather pants and top. She didn’t even want to know where her gun was hidden.
“No.” If wanted, Avery could take care of herself. Without a gun. It wasn’t physical injury she feared, more the emotional onslaught Jude had the power to deliver. “If he strangles me, it’s nothing I don’t deserve.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Courtney disagreed, looking protective, while Randi finished her conversation with Claire.
She clicked the phone shut.
“Claire’s going to tell him. She said he refused to leave until she gave him the name of the person who bought the dress, which is why she called.”
“What did she tell him?”
“She put him off until she called. I told her to tell him the truth. That she delivered the dress to Angela Greene at Playhouse Magazine on the night of the Yamaguchi’s party.”
Avery nodded. “Fair enough. Is Jude going to the bagel place?”
Randi shrugged. “She’s going to tell him. My guess is he’ll be there. Why wouldn’t he after all the trouble he’s gone to track you down?”
Nausea crept up the back of her throat. In a little over an hour she’d see Jude and reveal her most personal secrets.
Jude pinched a piece of silver silk between his thumb and forefinger. What was taking so long?
The tall thin woman who looked like she should be modeling clothes rather than designing them stepped back into the open work room where he’d confronted her about the green gown.
“You’re in luck.” She smiled, her crystal aquamarine eyes staring at him curiously. “I was able to reach my client. She okayed my giving her information to you.”
Jude tried not to act surprised, but he was. No way was it going to be that easy.
“I sold the dress to Angela Greene and had it delivered to her at this address,” she handed him a piece of paper with Playhouse magazine’s address neatly written on it, “on the evening in question.”
Another dead-end. He’d known this was too easy.
“Wait, you spoke with her? The woman you delivered the dress to?”
“Not directly,” the designer admitted, staring at him. “But she was with the woman I spoke to.”
“We’re talking about the same woman? Tall, statuesque brunette with amazing green eyes and a killer bod?”
Claire Davis gave him a patronizing look. “The woman I sold the dress to has eyes that are a beautiful shade of green that perfectly matched the dress I designed.”
The dress had perfectly matched Angel’s eyes.
His heart strummed to life like the engine of a race car, loud and ready to race. “Tell me how to find her.”
“Pardon?” Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “I don’t reveal my clients’ private information.”
“Name your price.” Jude pulled out his wallet and tossed a stack of bills on a worktable. “I need to find her.”
“There’s no amount of money you could pay me that would cause me to give you that information.” She narrowed her gaze. “Take your money. I don’t want it. However, you’re in luck because the woman you’re searching for plans to have bagels at eight.”
When she sa
id the name of the bagel shop, Jude knew she really had talked to someone who knew Angela, if not Angela herself.
“Bagels at eight, huh?” Finally, Mandy had given him useful information and he might be getting somewhere. Might be? He was. Every fiber of his being hummed with life. He’d see his Angel tonight. “Anything else?”
“No.” Claire’s lips clamped closed and he got the impression a crow bar wouldn’t be able to pry them apart. Stubborn woman.
Jude nodded his appreciation and turned to leave.
“Take your money,” Claire said from behind him.
“Keep it.”
“No. Take it. I won’t accept money for doing as my client asked. It wouldn’t be right considering.”
“Considering?”
The woman’s expression closed down again. “She did me a favor once. A favor that saved my life in many ways.”
A favor? He wanted to ask more, but Claire Davis wouldn’t tell him more if he begged. No matter, he had what he came for.
If Angel didn’t show, he’d pay Miss Davis another visit.
* * *
Jude arrived at the bagel shop early. Way early. He wouldn’t risk her coming and going prior to his arrival.
When he got there, he immediately spotted a woman with lush silk spilling down her back. She couldn’t see him, not with her back to him, but she sensed him standing there because she stiffened. He waited to see if she’d turn to look at him.
He didn’t need her to turn to know it was Angela. His skin prickled with excitement, and his gut twisted. He wouldn’t even try to describe what the floppy organ in his chest did.
He took a step in her direction and had to reach out to steady himself. Damn it. His legs wobbled like a newborn foal’s.
Anger surged through him. She’d left him, used him, destroyed him. He knew it was true. He shouldn’t be so damned affected by her nearness.
When he stood a mere five feet behind her, Angel turned. Her guilty eyes met his.
“Jude,” she whispered.
“So you do remember me.” He hadn’t meant to be sarcastic. Hell, she looked so good. Just being close to her made him want to grab her and beg her to never leave him again.
Right after he choked her for whatever role she played in all this.
Three weeks of dealing with Mandy had been worth this moment.
Angel laughed nervously. Why was she nervous? Unless she had something to be nervous about. Like helping Mandy set him up.
Which, of course, she had.
“It would be easier if I didn’t.”
“Easier in what way?” He slid into the booth, not bothering to ask her permission. Before the night was over he was going to do a lot of things. With or without permission.
She fiddled with the Styrofoam coffee cup in front of her. “Don’t you want something to drink?”
To drink?
“No, damn it. I want to know why you disappeared out of my life without a trace?” Why you set me up for the worst fall of my life?
She winced. “Apparently not without a trace. You’re here.”
“Only because Mandy prattled on about Claire Davis, and it hit me that—”
“Speaking of Mandy,” a fake smile curved her lips, “I hear you’re an item again.”
“You hear,” he stopped. He’d been about to say wrong. “More about me than I’ve heard about you,” he said instead.
“You’re sleeping with her.” It wasn’t a question, more a quiet accusation.
“So what if I am?” he asked, his pride demanding salving even if the truth was he hadn’t had sex with anyone since he’d been with the woman sitting across from him. “You walked away without a word. Who or who I am not sleeping with is no longer your business.”
Angel snorted, glanced away from him. “Fine.”
“Fine?”he pushed, liking that she fought to contain her emotions. He knew she did. He could see the dam building waiting to burst just beneath her surface.
“Fine that you are moving on with your life.”
“That’s what you wanted me to do?”
She stared at a spot on the table, then met his eyes. “I would prefer you not to be having sex with another woman.”
An honest answer. Surprising. “You expected me to wait around forever when you disappeared off the face of the earth without so much as an ‘it’s been nice knowing you’?”
“It’s only been three weeks, Jude. I’d hardly classify that as forever. But then, you are the man who breaks his own vows not to have sex because you can’t keep your pants zipped.”
“I was drugged.”
“You can’t prove that.”
Jude blinked. He’d been referring to allergy medicine. She wasn’t. “What did you do? Slip me some type of rape drug?”
“No.” But she bit the inside of her lip and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“You did,” he said, astounded by her guilty expression. “You slipped me some type of Mickey and then you had sex with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “We didn’t have sex that night so get over it. I didn’t rape you.”
“I remember having sex with you.”
“You remember dreams. You dreamed we had sex, but other than while you were awake, I didn’t lay a hand on you.” She grimaced. “Well, my hands, but nothing more. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I was sleeping next to you,” she reminded, sounding more and more frustrated as she gripped the coffee cup. “Curled against you, but we didn’t have sex. Not even when you repeatedly tried to seduce me did I give in. Not after I’d drugged you with more antihistamines.”
Anger seethed through his blood stream. She’d drugged him. Drugged him. Admitted to it. “Tell me what else you did.”
She inhaled deeply and met his eyes. “I sent Mrs. Yamaguchi’s daughter a hundred vibrators from her top competitor courtesy of you with a note that said ‘Go screw yourself.’.”
So that was what Mandy had been referring to when she’d said Mrs. Yamaguchi sent word he could “F” himself.
He clenched his jaw. “What else?”
She bit her lip again. “I also sent them to your mother.”
“My mother?” She hadn’t breathed a word. Not a single one. She’d sent his mother a hundred vibrators? “From me?”
She winced. “Marcus.”
Oh hell.
“With a note thanking her for the best one-hundred screws of his life and hoping he could return the favor.”
His mother hadn’t mentioned the vibrators, but she had mentioned his “gayness” repeatedly. Damn it. His mother really believed he was gay.
Did he want to know more?
“What else?”
“I reported seeing cockroaches in your apartment.”
“There were no cockroaches?”
“No.”
He curled his fingers into a tight fist. ‘Cause if he didn’t he might wrap them around her delectable neck and twist…“My bank accounts? That was you?”
She nodded.
“How?”
She bit the inside of her lip again. “I have friends who can do that sort of thing.”
“That sort of thing? You mean destroy someone’s life?”
“Yes.”
“You intentionally destroyed mine?”
“Yes.”
“What else did you do?”
“Changed your G.P.A.”
“Huh?”
Her shoulders lifted a fraction. “You no longer graduated from Princeton with honors.”
“The hell I didn’t.”
“Your transcript shows you barely had a two point o.”
God, she’d really set out to destroy him.
He fought the urge to pound the table top, his chest, anything, because the desire to hit her grew. He’d never hit a woman. Not ever. Hell, if there might be a first. “You were the source who leaked my supposed affair with Marcus?”
“Guilty.”
“My credit cards?”
She nodded.
“My lost dry cleaning?”
Angel frowned. “Not me.”
“Yeah, well that was six months ago, but I figured it was worth checking.”
She blinked, but didn’t say anything.
“Anything else I should know?”
“My name isn’t Angela.”
He’d suspected as much but to hear her say it hurt.
“It’s Avery.”
“Avery?”
“Wade. Avery Wade.”
Not Angela Greene, but Avery Wade.
“I don’t work for a temp service. Not really.” She met his gaze. “I own one in Tennessee, though.”
“Why were you at Playhouse?” Not that the answer wasn’t obvious. She’d been there to make his life miserable as possible.
“To fill in for Mrs. Sedwick.” She sighed. “Who I sent on an all-expense paid trip to Disney.”
The surprises never ended. “You did that? Why?”
“So I’d have an excuse to get close to you.”
“Because you wanted me?”
“Puh-leeze.” She gave him an eye roll. “So I could tear your life apart.”
“Why the hell would you want to do that?” Which was still the kicker. Why would she help Mandy?
She took a sip of her coffee, set the cup down, and met his gaze head-on. “Because it was my job.”
“Your job?”
Jude felt like he stood in front of an on-coming semi-truck. Any moment he was going to be plowed down.
“I get paid to deliver revenge to men.”
“Huh?”
“Send me your liars, your cheaters, your wrong-doers and I’ll chop off their balls and hang them from the Empire State building. You get the idea.”
Thunk. The figurative semi smashed into him and knocked him off his feet. He leaned back against the booth, staring at her with disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”
“No.”
She got paid to deliver revenge? “People actually pay for that kind of thing?”
She nodded. “Amounts that would make your head spin.”
“Someone,” no need to say who because there could be only one person and he was going to wring her neck, “paid you to chop off my balls and hang them from the Empire State building?”
She named a figure that made him whistle.