Taking Flight (A Devereux Novel)

by Whiskey, D. G.

  “I’m not sure I can answer that to your satisfaction. All I can say is there are two sides to every story, and multiple accounts of the same thing. You can believe what the rags say, or you can continue to make up your own mind.” It was as succinct as he could put it. Trying to convince her of anything except to keep an open mind was a lost cause. Actions were the only way to prove your true intentions, and he had no intention of doing anything that might harm her.

  “I guess I can’t argue with that,” she said.

  Her shoulders dropped a couple inches from where they hunched up around her ears. He wondered if she even noticed what her body was doing, the screaming signals of discomfort.

  What has she been hearing about me since earlier today that could have gotten her back up so much? It was difficult to imagine.

  “You said your roommate came to town with you?” She nodded. “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

  Sara smiled. It differed from most she’d sent his way. It was full of equal parts exasperation and love.

  I must have a similar smile when I think about my brothers.

  “Well, she’s an absolute pain in my ass, for one. But I love her, and we’ve been best friends almost forever, and living together for almost as long. She has dreams to make it big as a fashion designer, and she’s working hard at it but making barely enough to scrape by.” Sara laughed, the full sound drawing a smile to Derek’s own face even though he didn’t know the source. “She made me promise to introduce her to you in case I didn’t want to have a go at you, so she could live in comfort the rest of her days with no effort.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh, himself. The sad part was that it wasn’t that uncommon of an occurrence for him. “She sounds like an interesting girl.”

  “Interesting doesn’t even come close to it,” Sara said. “She begged to come with me to L.A. so she could convince celebrities to rep her fashion designs on Instagram. She wants to get enough traction so she can design full-time and leave the execution and marketing and selling—you know, the business aspects—to someone else.”

  “Hmm. You know, there’s a party tomorrow night she might like to go to. I wasn’t planning on going, but I could take the two of you, if you think she would be interested. There would be more than a few models, designers, and agents there, and at least a couple of them are good people with an eye out for new talent.”

  “Oh my God, really?” Sara’s eyes lit up, and Derek was pleasantly surprised to see how thrilled she was on behalf of her friend. “She would absolutely die. That is her dream come true, right there!”

  He grinned. “If I’ve made at least one dream come true, then it’s been a good day’s work. I hope it starts to make up for the turmoil I put you through earlier today. I feel like a cad for forcing you to experience that. Although it could have been worse. I had almost invited you to the private airport we use for the air races so you could see the planes and the obstacle course.”

  The blonde paled. “Ooh, no. No, I’m glad we didn’t do that. I can’t even stomach it when I see a jetliner pass by. I don’t want to think about what might happen if I had to look at them up close!”

  “It’s probably best we avoid that,” Derek agreed. “For now, at least.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “I can’t believe this is happening!” Becky had been ecstatic ever since Sara had let her roommate hear the good news about the party invite. “This could be it, Sara. This could start a whole new life for me, if I don’t screw it up.”

  The woman stood in the living room surrounded by dresses. She had hauled everything she brought with her out and covered every available surface in a dizzying array of color and style, the many garments contrasting, each with its own charm and character. As much as she liked to tease Becky about her passion, her friend made cool stuff.

  “I have to choose carefully,” Becky continued. “What we wear will decide the course of the rest of my life.”

  Sara smiled until her roommate’s words sunk in. “Wait, we?”

  “Of course!” Becky looked at her as if she were thick between the ears. “I need every chance for my talent to be recognized. Do you think I’ll let you arrive at the club wearing anything other than one of my designs? In fact, would we get away with bringing costume bags? A couple mid-party changes might be in order, especially if our first choices aren’t a big hit.”

  “Uhh…”

  “No, of course not, you’re right. First impressions are everything, and we don’t want to walk in carrying huge bags like a couple of porters. I have to make the right choice from the beginning.” The redhead stared at her collection with feverishly bright eyes approaching a level of fanatical obsession that would have scared Sara if she hadn’t seen it before on herself.

  I had the same look during my first real big investigation. Every witness was vital, every question the potential make-or-break for my entire career. I had such drive back then.

  It had been before Michael’s death, when he supported her all the way and there was nothing she couldn’t achieve because of it. Her mentality had shifted along the way, her enthusiasm battered and waning.

  Becky made Sara try on a series of dresses, each more outlandish and cutting edge than the last. Eventually, she had to put her foot down.

  “Beck, this might look amazing on a runway during a fashion show, but it’s just not practical!” The pale green number she wore had a long skirt so tight she could barely walk, and featured a massive bow that interfered with her accomplishing anything useful with her right hand.

  The other woman sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sara. I just want to show them I have vision, you know?”

  Sara felt a pang of regret at her outburst. It wasn’t the right time to dampen her friend’s enthusiasm. “I get it, Beck. Maybe that first dress you had me try on, though. That black and blue one? It’s sleek and stylish, and it’s got interesting patterns to it. I’m sure it will catch more than a few people’s eyes, if they know their stuff.”

  She liked that dress—it was fun, flirty, and distinctly one of a kind. There was nothing like it walking around Hollywood, of that she was sure.

  “You know, you’re right. First time’s the charm, huh?”

  It took another painful half an hour before Becky picked something out for herself, and once more, Sara had to intercede to prevent disaster. It was a close call—her friend almost went out looking like she stepped straight off the set of a science fiction film. Luckily, Becky had been so eager to get ready that they had more than enough time left to get to the venue to meet Derek.

  When they pulled up to the club, Sara’s jaw dropped at the length of the line waiting to get in. The party was open to the public, but Derek had said there was a special VIP area where all the rich and famous would hang out. That was where Becky would have her shot at trying to impress anyone willing to give her a chance.

  The cab driver dropped them at the red carpet in front of the club. Sara immediately felt foolish arriving by such a mundane mode of transportation when the rest of the invited guests likely took limousines or got the valets to park their sports cars or luxury sedans. There was a fair bit of laughing in the line as they walked up to the velvet rope, and the look the beefy bouncer gave them was not encouraging.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said. Good start. “The back of the line is that way.” He pointed with his pen. Crap.

  A group of girls at the front of the line laughed and cheered. “Good one, Jerry!”

  Sara forced a smile onto her face. She wasn’t used to going clubbing, absent from social circles for two years and engaged in a fulfilling relationship before that. “We’re here as guests of someone, although I don’t know whether we’re on the list or not.”

  He looked her up and down, and evidently what he saw was enough to justify at least a cursory look. “Names?”

  “Sara Flight and Becky Williams.”

  The pen traced down the list. It didn’t take lon
g before he shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry, ladies, I’m afraid not. You’ll have to wait in line like everyone else, although at this point, the night will be over by the time you get to the front. You should have gotten here three hours ago like these girls did if you wanted a chance to get in tonight.”

  The raucous group of women made several rude comments Sara chose to ignore.

  “We’re here to meet Derek Devereux. Could you please just let us in?”

  Incredulous murmurs from the audience to their right left no doubt what those women thought of her claim. “As if she would have rolled up in a cab if she knew Derek Devereux.”

  Jerry gave her a long look. “Derek never brings a date with him when he comes to the club. Nice try, though.”

  “Fuck, Sara, what are we going to do? Can you call Derek?” Becky tugged her arm. “I have to get in there!”

  “Just give me a second.” Sara fumbled with her purse, fingers leaden and nervous. She hated being made a fool of. It gave her flashbacks to grade school.

  A loud engine roared and echoed down the street, and all the eyes watching their spectacle turned to see a bright red Ferrari tear down the street and screech to a perfect stop in front of the club. Despite living in the city and being used to seeing famous people all the time, the people waiting in the line waited expectantly to see who would step out of the vehicle after such an impressive entrance.

  Oh, thank God.

  Derek’s high cheekbones and tousled black hair were exactly the sight that Sara needed. He tossed his keys to the valet and strolled up the carpet toward them. As ever, he was clad in an expertly tailored suit that conformed to his lean, muscled body. Not for the first time did Sara picture him as though an artist had drawn him, too perfect for real life.

  “Derek!”

  The bouncer opened the red velvet rope and stuck his arm out to bar Sara and Becky from joining Derek.

  “Hey, what the hell?” Sara asked.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Derek asked Jerry with a dangerously low voice. “Get your hands off Sara.”

  The exterior of the club had gone quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The sound of the bouncer nervously swallowing was sweet vindication to Sara’s ears. His arm dropped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Devereux, sir. I thought they were pretending they knew you to get into the club.”

  “Next time you should check with me before you make decisions on my behalf,” Derek replied.

  The bouncer outweighed Derek by a healthy margin, but it was clear where the balance of power lay. There was something in how Derek carried himself that suggested he could handle himself against all comers. The wealth and power were two distinct advantages, but something told Sara that Jerry would have thought twice about crossing Derek even without those things.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Jerry stood to the side with his head bowed.

  As though he had already dropped the matter from his mind, Derek held out his hand to Becky. “I assume you must be Becky. Sara’s told me a little about you. It’s great to make your acquaintance.”

  She took his hand and smiled, flustered. “Oh, trust me, the pleasure is all mine! Sara’s told me all about you. I mean, I already knew all about you before, but… oh, shit, I mean I’d obviously heard about you, but she’s told me about how you’ve met and talked and… well, hi.”

  He smiled. “Shall we?” He offered an arm to each of the woman, and they walked to the door, passing in front of the group of women still barred by a velvet rope. Even though she tried to hold herself above being bitchy to other women, Sara couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the looks on their faces.

  The club was already packed. The side entrance into a VIP area was not that far in, and they had more space to breathe once they were up there. The music was also not as loud so that actual conversations could take place, albeit at an elevated volume. Once again, Sara was amazed at the attendees; it was a liberal galaxy of stars, from rockers and models to actors and athletes. There were many people she had never seen before, but with all the big personalities at every turn, all the other faces faded away and it felt like she was watching the highlight reel of an award ceremony.

  Derek introduced them to several people, talking up Becky’s skills as a designer and pointing out the dresses that the two of them wore. There were many favorable comments and second looks, and one look at Becky’s face showed how alive she felt.

  Derek stepped close to talk into her ear over the music. “I’m going to step outside and check on my brother. He just got into town and I want to make sure he’s settled into my house okay and has everything he needs. Will you two be fine on your own for a little while?”

  Sara looked to the side. Becky had settled into a deep conversation with a group of models, and a couple of them examined her dress up close. “We’ll be okay. Get back soon!”

  He treated her to a wink and then turned to go.

  She watched him, admiring the way the fabric of his suit jacket lay over his broad shoulders. That is a serious hunk of man-flesh.

  As he left the club, she couldn’t help but notice that another dark figure in a suit trailed behind, so close that at first she thought they were walking out together until Derek turned to look behind him and the other man shifted to stay out of Derek’s eyesight.

  That’s… weird. That must have been a coincidence though, right?

  Unbidden, the memory of a dagger shoved forcefully through the metal of her apartment’s front door rose to the fore.

  She spared a look toward Becky. Her friend was still enmeshed with her new acquaintances. Sara hesitated.

  Derek knows how to take care of himself.

  “Hello?” Gary’s voice was clear, although the reception on the cell phone was a little tinny. “Derek?”

  “Hey, Gare, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Have you settled in at the house?”

  Derek dodged a puddle as he paced away from the entrance to the club. It was noisy enough to make it difficult to hear his brother’s words, so he tried to find what quiet he could in the crowded nighttime streets of Los Angeles.

  “I’m fine, Derek. Shouldn’t you be enjoying your date?” Gary’s voice was a little exasperated. As the youngest, he already had to put up with three concerned older brothers at the best of times. They had each taken a special interest in looking out for him since he was born, especially since their mother had never been there for him.

  Derek winced. He still shied away from calling his meetings with Sara “dates.” It layered in an array of expectations he wasn’t comfortable with. He had been a bachelor living it up for a couple years, and he wasn’t actively looking to change that. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of the bright blonde who showed him a unique side of things.

  “We’re doing fine, Gary. You know it’s dangerous here for us. It’s not a bad idea to check in every once in a while so we know everything’s good. We don’t even know who would have reason to take us out—without suspects there’s nothing we can do beyond remaining vigilant.”

  Gary was six years younger than he was, and the difference in age, while not as marked as when they were younger, was still telling.

  “Ah, relax, D. It’s not like someone will break into your house and get me. I’m not running out to go have any wild parties. I’m respecting your wishes that much. I could do it, you know. I’ve gotten tons of invites since I landed yesterday.”

  Derek believed it. Even if he’d wanted to go to them all, Gary would have had to turn down the majority of invitations he received simply because he couldn’t be in multiple places at the same time. In L.A. it seemed like there was always an endless supply of parties, if that’s what you wanted.

  “I’m glad you’re taking it at least that seriously. Remember, someone tried to run me off the road the other day, and I still have a splint on my hand for the fractured finger. This wasn’t one of Evan’s nebulous ‘accidents’ where he can’t put a finger on what went wrong. This was an actual act of aggression. It me
ans whoever’s responsible has stepped their game up and isn’t afraid to let us know of their existence.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll just be here, watching Netflix and wasting away. I don’t get why you can go out but I can’t. We took the same lessons growing up, and I took them more recently than you did. If you recall, I beat you a few rounds the last time we sparred.”

  And that had been a shock. Derek had held the upper hand on his little brother for so long he’d gotten cocky, and it had been a much needed wake-up call.

  “Yeah, well, I hope you’ve continued practicing since then. Have you heard from Stephen?”

  “Not since he and Liberty left New York to shoot on location in the tropics. They didn’t even know where they would end up.”

  Derek tapped his thigh. “That might be a good thing. Hard to track, no way for anyone to know where they will be.”

  “Exactly. They are the safest of all of us.”

  “That’s true. Anyway, I should get back in the club. I’ll see you when I get home, and we can talk it out a little more. There’s got to be a way to sort this out and take care of things. I don’t want to be on guard for the rest of my life without even knowing why.”

  “Looking forward to it. I’m still a little jetlagged, though, so I might be passed out on your couch by then.”

  Derek laughed. Just like old times. “I’ll carry you up to your bed and tuck you in, then.”

  “Don’t you dare! The couch is just fine. Take it easy.”

  “See you.”

  When he hung up the phone, Derek looked around and raised an eyebrow. He had gone on autopilot while talking on the phone, and now he wasn’t even sure where he was. At one point he had turned into an alley and paced back and forth to find the place closest to silence.

  Now, how do I get back?

  He was about equal distance out to a street in either direction, so he picked a direction and started walking. Once he got out to where there were street signs he’d be able to figure out where he was quickly enough.