Like the rest of the clientele, I was dressed up, but my dress was borrowed and last season - though damn nice. I had to give Serena plenty of credit for excellent fashion taste - but the wire attached to the inside of the dress was brand new. I doubt if many dates brought a bunch of guys to listen in either. According to Solomon, Flaherty was recording everything nearby outside, and Maddox was in close proximity. Oh, how I looked forward to this. As for Solomon’s whereabouts, who knew?
"Lexi?" The man who approached me resembled his photo. Unfortunately, for him, that was a bad thing, although I had to give him props for not using an old snap or a professional headshot. His face was pudgier than his photos, visibly losing the fight against jowls that would undoubtedly fully develop over the next couple of years, and his skin pasty. Considering that he worked in IT, and we didn't live in sunny climes like Florida, that wasn't surprising. What surprised me was the quantity of pomade that slicked back his thick dark hair. He clearly decided more was more. And then some. It gave it the appearance of wet glue. When I imagined running my hands through it, I had a mental vomit. "Lexi?" he said again, smiling nervously.
Snapping out of my hair angst, I smiled. "Yes, hi. David?"
"That's me." David held his hand out. I slipped mine into it and he pumped it enthusiastically, giving me a bicep workout that neither of us appreciated. "I've looked forward to meeting you ever since I saw your photo. Wow. Just wow." His eyes roamed my dress, fixing on my cleavage for a moment, before traveling down... and back up. Cleavage again. He smiled.
To be fair, I think my face took on the same glazed, gormless expression when I looked at his hair. All at once, I remembered what his hair reminded me of: a licorice swirl. I don't like licorice.
"Pleased to meet you," I said, keeping my voice pleasant even as the idea of an evening with David made me break into a cold sweat. "Do you like the artist?" I asked to prompt the conversation.
"One of my favorites," David replied, finally averting his eyes from my cleavage, which was showcased in the vee cut neckline of a fabulous little dress. He held out his arm for me to hook mine around. "I might buy a new canvas this evening. Why don't you help me?"
Well, who wouldn’t admire a man who lets his date pick out a pricey piece of art only minutes after meeting her? It was just a shame I knew nothing about art. I hated to think of selecting a lemon, but I figured he would probably take responsibility for his own decisions. Much as I do when shoe shopping. If I make a mistake, I return them and buy another pair, along with a coordinating purse.
David seemed happy to talk, and not in a must-fill-the-silence kind of way. David loved to talk. Specifically, David loved to talk about David: how smart, successful and rich he was. He also referred to himself in the third person, which was most disconcerting. I couldn't work out whether he was pompous or nervous, but I suspected the balance favored the former.
"Champagne?" David swiped two flutes from a passing waitress and handed me one without waiting for my response.
"Mmm." I sipped it. Bubbles slipped over my tongue. Something told me this wasn't supermarket champagne, but the real deal. "Delicious."
"So... when did you join the agency?" David asked after awhile, looking over his shoulder to see who was within earshot. At first, my heart thumped before I realized he meant the dating agency, and I hadn't been rumbled. "Recently," I said. "Actually, this is my first date."
"Maybe it'll be your last." David winked.
I gulped. "And... um... you? Have you been a member very long?"
"A year. I've been on a few dates. I had to join, you see," he said, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, "too many gold-diggers. I want to meet a woman who doesn't see me as a walking ATM. Is it the same for you?"
"Absolutely," I agreed. "Not women, though. I want to meet a guy who doesn't care how loaded I am, or that I have diamonds and rubies in the home safe and drive a Ferrari," I added, checking David's reaction to see what he thought of that. He didn't blink. He didn't even seem very interested in my wheels. Instead, he just nodded as if that was perfectly reasonable. I guess to some people, it is. I just didn't move in those circles. At least, not until today. "You can never be too careful about whom you meet," I added.
"So true. Shall we look around?" David guided me through the gallery, pointing out this painting and that, stopping to chat with the gallery owner, as well as a local artist or two, and greeting everyone by name. Watching him pumping hands, I could see he was clearly enjoying himself. I barely had to say anything, just nod and appear interested when he asked me a question before interrupting my answer. Just as I tried to say something witty after a comment he made, he cut me off, while pointing to a large painting on the rear wall, which he guided me toward. I politely say guided; it was closer to being yanked. "What do you think of this one?" he asked as we approached. The painting, several feet in height and width, was a garish mix of neon oils that appeared to have been hurled at the canvas, then left to drip. The bottom half of the work dried into a mixture of colorful streaks, blobs and peaks. Yet there was something insanely attractive about it.
"I like it," I told him.
"Then I'll buy it." David turned, raising a hand to someone I couldn't see, and leaving me a moment to check the price tag. My eyes widened at the price. Holy guacamole! More than I earned in a year. Much, much more. And David planned to buy it because I said I liked it. "My date says this is the one to buy," he told someone behind us and I turned around. My gaze flew past the woman in the smart, black sheath dress to the couple standing a few feet away. A very familiar couple.
"Craptastic," I muttered under my breath.
"Pardon?" said David.
"I said, it's fantastic!"
"Perhaps you would like to see it when it's delivered. I think I'll put it in the family room," he told me, suddenly sounding as bashful as a little boy asking a girl if she wanted to see his new toy.
"Maybe," I muttered, my eyes fixed elsewhere.
I waited while David signed some paperwork and exchanged pleasantries with the gallery owner. He was promised an introduction to the artist later in the evening, and all the time, I tried to ignore Maddox and Detective Blake hovering. What the hell were they doing here? As far as I knew, Maddox's salary didn't include this kind of art, and I had to assume neither did Blake’s. I was pretty sure Maddox wasn't even an art lover. Maybe Blake was? And that's when the horrifying thought entered my head: were they on a date? Was Solomon being sarcastic about Maddox being nearby?
David looped my arm through his again and started babbling about the artist. How excited he was to have another of his paintings and some other stuff that I forgot to pay attention to when Maddox's eyes met mine. He raised his glass with a nod to me. Then Blake gave me a little wave. I waggled my fingers in return and offered them a weak smile. Unfortunately, they mistook that as their cue to approach. Damn it.
"Lexi, how nice to see you." Blake stepped forward and air kissed me from approximately four inches away on both cheeks. Gone was her plain clothes uniform; replaced by a cocktail dress in deep purple with a flared skirt and cinched waist. Her glossy hair was pulled into a neat chignon. She kept her jewelry to simple gold studs in her lobes. I couldn't fault her. Annoying.
"So nice!" I faux-gleefully exclaimed. "Are you enjoying the exhibit?"
"Oh yes." Blake nodded, waving her full glass around. "So much to see."
"Adam," said Maddox, holding his hand out to David. He took it and gave it a firm shake. "And Rebecca. Are you a friend of Lexi's?" As if he didn't know.
"We're on a date," said David with a grin at me. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. Poor guy just seemed too pleased. Really, I should have been flattered, and if he were my type, I would have been, but sometimes, being too grateful just isn't sexy. Compounding the problem, since Maddox and I broke up, I hadn’t been on a date. If I had wanted him to see me on a date, it would have been with someone who could have at least made him jealous. Someone the male equivalent
of Blake: glam, sexy, confident. Not licorice blob-haired David Markham, even if he was a millionaire. Damn it. What were Maddox and Blake doing here anyway?
"David, why don't you show Bl... er... Rebecca the painting you just bought?" I said, unlinking my arm and nodding towards the canvas. "I'm sure she'd love to see it. Huge fan."
David's eyes widened. "Would you really?" he asked. It was probably the first time two hotties showed any interest in him, or something to do with him. His chest puffed out. I'm fairly certain he would later tell his friends what a "player" he’d become. I hoped he would take a shine to Blake.
"Please," said Blake, stepping forward.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed to Maddox, after turning to watch David and Blake step away, and out of earshot.
"Same as you. Suspect surveillance."
"No. That's what I'm doing. You guys are supposed to back off so the thief doesn't get spooked. That was the plan. MPD stays in the background. If he's the thief and he guesses you're PD, the jig's up."
Maddox raised both eyebrows. "The jig's up?"
"You told Solomon that you needed someone on the outside to get close." I pointed to my chest and Maddox's eyes lingered on it. Men. I raised my finger to my chin. "Me. Outside."
"You really think this guy could be the one?"
"The one?" I was momentarily confused. Like hell did I think he was The One.
"The thief," Maddox stage-whispered. Inexplicably, he added jazz hands.
"I don't get that vibe," I told him, relieved that the conversation was still on track. "I've only known him an hour-and-a-half and the few minutes it took to read his file. He doesn't have any motive, and I don't think he's the kind of man who could get under a woman's skin, make her totally trust him, then betray her."
"We're still talking about this case?"
"Of course," I huffed. Like, what else? A professional such as myself wouldn't dare comment on the kind of men I dated. "Thing is, David likes David a whole lot. He's more interested in what he's got to say than what I have to say, so I don't see him getting a lot of second dates; and I figure the thief needs to go on a few dates with the women he targets. He must build up a profile so he knows who to rob and what to steal and when to do it."
"I agree. And David doesn't fit that bill?"
"Not unless he's confident enough to wheedle the details on the first date, then simply watch his dates after that, but that's pretty time-consuming. I guess he would have the skills..." I thought about how David made his money and pursed my lips.
"They're coming back. What skills?"
"David's a software expert. Maybe he simply gets enough details to hack his date's computer and discovers the assets that way."
"Smart. Keep at it, Lex."
"I will and don't crash anymore of my dates."
"How do you know I'm not actually here on a date that happened to coincide with work?"
I glanced at Blake, my heart sinking as a tear threatened to drop from my left eye. Rubbing his affair in my face was just mean. "With her?"
Maddox opened his mouth to say something, but David and Blake returned. David was talking about the kind of art he invested in and how he loved adding to his collection. He said he hoped his passion would turn into philanthropy one day while Blake just nodded and agreed with everything he uttered. She was exactly the kind of woman he liked and it showed. Shame he didn't see the eye roll she gave me as she stepped away to take Maddox's hand. The bitch.
"Let's go to dinner, David?" I suggested, sidling away from Maddox towards my target. I gave him a brilliant smile. What did I care if Maddox wanted to schmooze with Blake? I had a date! A millionaire! With hair like nasty candy! Woo!
"Okay, I know a great French place just around the corner. They do an amazing steak that you must try..." With that, David babbled on about food and how he aced a Cordon Bleu class in Paris. He also said something about wine tasting in the Italian countryside. I had just enough time to narrow my eyes at Maddox before David whisked me away to the cloakroom to retrieve our coats.
David insisted on walking to the restaurant and I refused to moan about the height of my heels — though internally, I let that whine unleash. By the time we were seated, I knew he loved to cook, eat, drink wine and had a wine cellar in his home, a newly built house in Bedford Hills. I discovered he put a lot of pride in the restaurants he frequented and how many chefs knew him by name. Oh yeah… he always got the best tables and often ordered off-menu. Honestly, I knew he wanted to impress me by the way he waited for my reactions occasionally, but it all just made him sound desperately annoying.
"Are you nervous?" I asked him after he spoke in broken French to the waiter. He managed to order another bottle of champagne and call himself something rude that the waiter politely ignored.
David's cheeks pinked. "Maybe a little," he admitted. "It's not often I get to go on a date with a beautiful woman who really knows how to listen. Some women are so self-absorbed. I really want a selfless mother for my future children."
Holy crap. Was that ever not going to happen. I wondered what Flaherty, on the other end of the wire, thought of that. Maybe he was thinking about going home to a beautiful woman. Maybe Maddox was thinking about going home with Blake on his maybe/maybe not date. Maybe Solomon was on a date with the gorgeous younger woman. All of a sudden, I wanted to go home, kick off my heels, pull on my pajamas and crawl into bed. Dating suspected criminals was hard work.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked as David paused, waiting expectantly.
"I asked if you were happy to be a stay-at-home mom? Are you still fertile? You don't want to wait too long." he said with a silly grin.
"Oh, well, I uh... oh the candle blew out. Let me light it. The table needs some ambiance, don't you think? Uh, romantic..." I babbled, trying not to think about being a stay-at-home mom. It wasn't that I didn't want to be a mother one day, but it was way too soon to discuss my fertility and potential motherhood with a first date. Also: it was kind of crazy. And: no. Just no.
"Good idea," agreed David, momentarily distracted from the thought of impregnating me by the wisp of smoke winding its way upwards from the blown-out tea light on our table.
I don't know what happened next, but it was a disaster. Somehow, as I reached over for the gently flickering tea light on the empty table next to us, intending to bring it to ours, the waiter approached with the ice bucket, and David leaned forward, causing all three of us to collide. Instead of lighting the candle, the flame caught the essence of David's volatile hair product and I watched in horror as his sideburns ignited, the flames licking upwards.
A most unholy wail emanated from someone, and pretty soon, the three of us were also shrieking in cacophonous protests.
~
Lily had one look at me standing on her welcome mat, water dripping from my hem, a bottle of champagne in hand, and raised her eyebrows. "Good date?"
"Interesting."
She sniffed the air suspiciously as Eau de Singe wafted from me. "Go on."
"The gallery was nice, and we bumped into Maddox and Blake, so I suggested we go to dinner. David and me, that is. Not me, Maddox and Blake, because that would be really weird, then he got all nervous and..."
"Who got nervous? Maddox?"
"No. David. He started talking about my declining fertility and I thought maybe a little candlelight would put him at ease, so I went to light a candle, only he leaned forward and I kind of set fire to him..." I took a deep breath as Lily mashed her lips together and her eyes widened. "He had so much pomade in his hair, it kind of caught fire."
"Kind of?" asked Lily, opening the door wider so I could step into the safety and serenity of her apartment. I did, but my legs didn't seem to want to move any further so I just stood there, inside the door, whimpering.
"At first, it was just the sides, then the whole lot went. Woomph!" I threw one hand in the air dramatically and waggled my fingers. "It was like a Christmas plum pudding with flames dancing a
ll around."
"Don't stop now. This is even better than I expected. This has to be a first." Lily paused and gave me a suspicious questioning look. "Lexi... it was a first, right?"
I gave her a shocked look. Seriously? "Absolutely. Never set a date's head on fire before."
"Oh, well, good. So..." She prompted.
04 - Shock and Awesome Page 7