I want the dirt.
“We knew each other a long time ago,” I tell her, and she gets a sly look on her face.
“Former lovers?”
My body goes hot at just hearing the word lovers. Yikes, I’m a perv. One kiss when I was a tween definitely doesn’t make us lovers. “No, more like old childhood friends. Sort of. Alex was my older brother’s best friend when I was, like, twelve. ”
“Oh. Interesting.” Kelsey nods, a little smile curving her full lips.
“Not like we hung out that much. Well, we sort of did. He’d come over to our house a lot,” I explain. “We reconnected only a week ago. I work at the stationery store where he and his fiancée ordered their wedding invitations and save the date cards.”
I clamp my lips shut when I notice the slightly dazed look in Kelsey’s eyes. I am totally rambling.
“Oh yeah. Tiffany.” The sour expression on Kelsey’s face cannot be denied. Seeing it gives me a giddy feeling I shouldn’t have.
“You don’t like her?” I keep my voice even. I don’t want to betray that I don’t like her either. The cheater.
“Oh God, I hate her, and it sucks because I have to be nice to her since I work for him. She’s so awful. Pretty sure she’s marrying him for his money and that’s it.” Kelsey takes another swig of her fresh glass of wine. Someone topped it off for her, not sure who. The wine is seriously flowing tonight.
I’m kind of scared to see the bill.
“You really think so?” I ask.
Kelsey nods. “Absolutely. They haven’t been together very long. And Alex seemed to sort of fall into their relationship. She pursued him heavily. It was like one minute he’s kind of seeing this woman, and the next minute they’re engaged. Though I haven’t seen a ring yet, so…”
“Yeah, I noticed that. Kind of weird, don’t you think?”
“Totally weird. I don’t know the story behind that. Wish I did, though. I’m sure whatever the reason is, if she had her choice, she’d be flashing that diamond all over town.”
“She seems like the type who’d want to show off the ring,” I agree, hesitating before I ask my next question. “Do you like working for him?”
“I do. He’s fair. Tough. Sometimes he makes me crazy. He tends to forget that we’re not workaholics like he is. I’ve had him text me at three in the morning asking for something. I’ve had him call me at eleven at night. Or on a Sunday—he calls me on Sunday a lot. What if I was at church?” Kelsey laughs.
None of what she’s saying surprises me. He has workaholic written all over him. And thank God he doesn’t seem like such a bad guy. Maybe a little distant, but I can’t blame him for that, especially with everything that’s happened the last few days. He’s a private person. Probably has to be, what with all that money he’s got.
“I hate to say this, but I doubt their marriage will last,” Kelsey says, her cheeks going pink. “You probably think I’m a terrible employee, going on and on about my boss’s private business, but you have to understand. That woman he plans on marrying isn’t good for him. Not that I can tell him that.”
“Of course you can’t,” I reassure her, wishing I could confess the entire sordid story to her.
I can’t. That would be breaking Alex’s trust, and no way do I want to do that. Not now, when he’s walked back into my life again.
Chapter 11
Alex
I am not an indecisive person. I go after what I want. My father taught me that in business, and in life, if you hesitate for even a minute, you allow someone else the chance to gain on you.
And that is the last thing a Wilder ever wants to happen.
As the firstborn son, from the moment I was a small child, I knew I was the heir apparent to the Wilder Corporation. My sister Annabelle works for the family business as well. But my brother, James?
He’s autistic. High functioning, but still. He will most likely live with my parents until they’re gone. And once they’re gone, he will most likely live with Annabelle or me. I’d rather it be me.
That’s a little something I haven’t discussed with Tiffany yet.
Not that I need to discuss shit with her now. After what Caroline told me, I decided to do some investigating of my own. The Wilder Corporation has attorneys on retainer—all large companies do. It’s smart business practice. The Wilder Corporation also has a private investigator on hand.
Needless to say, I had a call into Jack Chung within minutes of Caroline’s departure.
It took a couple of days—and I haven’t mentioned a damn word to Tiffany, just kept up the pretense of the loving, busy-with-work fiancé—but Jack is now sitting in my office this afternoon, a large envelope in his hands that I’m dying to tear into.
“What did you find out?” I ask once we’ve moved through the niceties.
The look on Jack’s face is nothing short of uncomfortable. “Let’s just say you weren’t wrong in your suspicions.”
“So you saw her with someone else.” It’s not a question, more like a statement, and that sinking feeling in my gut is more fueled by anger, not sadness.
Jack nods. Holds up the envelope. “I have photos, though I don’t know if you want to see them.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are they explicit?”
“No, nothing like that.” Jack laughs nervously. “They’re just…”
I wave my fingers at him in the universal give them to me sign. “Let me see them.”
He hands the envelope over and I open it, slowly pulling the photos out.
I can immediately see they’ve been blown up. Most likely they were taken by someone’s phone from a distance. The quality isn’t the best, but they’re good enough for me to see that it is definitely Tiffany. And she’s definitely with a man that’s not me.
“I have better ones. Taken with an actual camera,” Jack says.
One by one, I flip through the photos, and Jack’s right. He does have better photos. Most of them are taken in public places. The ones taken with the phone are at a beach—the one near Spyglass, looks like. They’re sitting together on a blanket, the wind blowing through Tiffany’s hair—her best asset, in my opinion—and she’s either leaning her head on his shoulder or turned toward him, talking animatedly.
Anger simmers in my gut, making me press my lips together. That she can sit in front of me and proclaim her love. Sleep in the same bed with me at night. Spend my money freely on this sham of a wedding that she’s planning…
It’s fucking unbelievable, the gall of this woman.
The clearer photos are taken around Carmel. The two of them eating at a restaurant—looks like Tuscany, a place we’ve actually frequented. There’s one of them in front of a boutique hotel that sits right on Ocean Avenue, close to the public beach. They’re embracing. Kissing. I don’t recognize the man, have no idea who he is, but I wonder how he can stand to be with a woman who is engaged to be married to another man.
To me.
Why the hell does she even want a ring from me, if she’s sneaking around town with her lover?
“I can set my guys to follow her around some more,” Jack suggests, but I shake my head. Drop the photos on the desk so they land with a soft plop.
“That won’t be necessary,” I tell him, keeping my voice even. “This is more than enough proof of her infidelity.”
“They went into that hotel together,” Jack adds, leaning over my desk to tap his fingers on the discarded photos, pulling out the one with them in front of the hotel entrance. “There’s a printed log of her every step for the last forty-eight hours or so. I sent it to you via email as well. One of my detectives is still tailing her as we currently speak.”
“Call him off,” I say, reaching into the envelope and pulling out the detailed log. He’s got it broken down by days and time, all locations noted. All of her lies thoroughly examined by a professional. “This is perfect, Jack. Thank you for doing this.”
Jack remains still for a moment, and I can tell he’s pra
ctically squirming in his seat. For having so many years being a private detective under his belt, he does seem rather uncomfortable in delivering this bad news. I’d think he’d be used to it by now.
“I’m sorry it turned out this way,” he finally says. “I never enjoy delivering this sort of news to my clients.”
“I already knew,” I tell him, though yes. I agree with him. The revelation hurts.
But not as deep as I thought it would.
Chapter 12
Caroline
I’m almost finished with a client—the bride-to-be is forty-five, didn’t bother bringing in her fiancé because she knows exactly what she wants, and is thrilled with her choices for both the save the date cards and the invitations—when I spot a redheaded woman storming into Noteworthy.
My heart trips over itself because I recognize that woman.
It’s Tiffany Ratcliffe.
And I’m positive she’s looking for me.
“Brandy.” I smile at my new client and rise to my feet, gathering up the paperwork and holding it close to my chest along with my iPad. “Do you mind if we finish everything up in the office in the back?”
I never do this, take clients to Iris’s office, but I know exactly who Tiffany is looking for, and I do not want to see her.
Like, ever.
“Of course.” Brandy stands, looking a little confused, but I come around the table, gently take her arm, and steer her toward Iris’s office. “We’re almost done, right?”
“So close to being done,” I assure her, glancing over my shoulder to see Cassie trying to calm Tiffany down, but Tiffany doesn’t appear calm. Not at all. Poor Cassie. She looks super flustered. “Just a few more details and then you can be on your way.”
I lock us into Iris’s office and speed through the rest of the forms, thankful Brandy is so agreeable. I hand her copies of the order forms and the credit card receipt for her purchase, then allow her to exit outside Iris’s back door that leads to the parking lot. It’s the door we all use at the end of the night if we’re closing. We never allow customers to use it.
Truthfully, I’m just stalling for time and hoping like hell Tiffany leaves.
Once Brandy exits the building, I consider following after her, but I also know that Cassie would kill me if I left her alone with Tiffany. Reluctantly, I shut and lock the door, then lean against it, resting my hand over my chest so I can feel my racing heart.
Damn it, I need to calm down. I also do not want to face the wrath of Tiffany. That she showed up here so angry tells me that Alex broke his word and shared the recording of me spilling my story with her.
What a jerk.
Part of this is my own fault, I guess, since I never did manage to call and tell him I wanted that recording destroyed. I should’ve. I knew I should’ve, but Tuesday morning I woke up with a wretched hangover after that fun night at Tuscany. The hangover lingered in the form of a splitting headache all day at work, and I went to bed early that night. Wednesday is when I schedule the majority of my appointments, so I was swamped the entire day.
I know it all sounds like a bunch of excuses, which I guess they are, but time gets away from you, and you tend to forget what happened only a few days ago, am I right? Not like I actually forgot that I spilled the beans in regards to Tiffany’s secret hookup, but I’ve been busy. Plus, Sarah and I had a quick lunch yesterday, and while I told her briefly about my meeting with Alex Wilder, she also has some weird guy stuff happening to her, and her story was much more interesting than mine.
I needed the distraction. I’d love a distraction now too.
There’s a knock on the office door and I startle, my stomach twisting when the door handle wiggles.
“Caroline? Are you in there?” It’s Cassie, and oh shit, she sounds stressed the hell out.
“Hold on.” I go to the door, unlock it, and only open it an inch or two, relief flooding me when I see that Cassie is alone. “Come in.”
She sneaks inside the office and I shut the door again. Lock it. Because I don’t trust Tiffany. At all. She might try to bust inside. “She’s here to see me, isn’t she?”
Cassie nods, her hazel eyes huge. “Her name is Tiffany, she told me. And she’s flipping out. Says that you, and I quote, ‘ruined everything’.”
I lean against the edge of Iris’s desk, wishing she were here. She’d have no problem talking to Tiffany, calming her down, even possibly kicking her out. Me? I have no idea what to say to this woman. “Considering she cheated on her fiancé, I’d say she’s the one who ruined it all. But whatever.”
Cassie’s eyes get even bigger, if that’s possible. “She cheated on her fiancé?”
I wave a hand, dismissing what I just said. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later.” I hesitate a moment before I ask, “Think you can convince her that I’m already gone for the day?”
Cassie makes a little face. “I would, but she saw you come in here and demanded to talk to you. When I told her you were busy with another client and she should come back later, she refused. Said she’d rather wait for you. So that’s what she’s doing.”
“I don’t want to talk to her,” I immediately say.
“Well, neither do I,” Cassie returns, a little miffed. “But I already did my part. Now it’s your turn.”
Shit. “Fine. I’ll talk to her. But be prepared to call 9-1-1.”
Cassie’s gaping at me. “Are you freaking serious?”
Nodding, I run a hand over my hair, tucking it behind both ears, then smooth out the skirt of my navy-and-white dress. “She’s a little unhinged.” I stand up straight and smile. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re scared,” Cassie answers way too truthfully.
I glare at her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“If you want me to lie, then I’ll say you look ready to kick ass and take names,” Cassie quickly amends.
“Perfect. Just what I need to hear.” We go to the door and I flip the lock, then pause before I open it. “Don’t stray too far from us if you can help it, okay? I need a witness. And someone to step in, just in case things get crazy.”
“Do you really think that’s going to happen?” Cassie sounds nervous, which I expect because I am nervous.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Anything could happen.”
Taking a deep breath, I throw open the door and both Cassie and I walk out into the mostly empty store. There’s a couple near the front checking out the items in our window display, and then there’s Tiffany, who’s sitting at the very table I vacated only a few minutes ago.
She stands the moment she spots me. “We need to talk.”
“Ms. Ratcliffe. What brings you in today?” My approach is feigning pure ignorance. As if I have no idea why she’s here or what she seems so angry about. I do have to say that she looks fabulous dressed all in black. Black formfitting sweater, black jeans, black Louboutins on her feet, and a black Louis Vuitton cross-body bag resting on her hip. Her hair is curlier than I remember it from before, and her pursed lips are blood red.
Damn it, she’s the one who appears ready to kick some ass and take some names, not me. More like I’m Little Mary Sunshine with my navy dress trimmed with white and the stupid smile on my face. All I need is a wide brimmed white hat and I’d look ready for an Easter egg hunt.
“I think you know exactly what brings me in.” She is speaking way too loudly for my tastes and I am dying to take her into Iris’s office, but then again I need Cassie as my witness and peacekeeper. Plus, I don’t want to take the risk of putting myself into a tiny room alone with a pissed-off woman.
No freaking thank you.
“Let’s sit down,” I offer, but she doesn’t budge from where she stands. “Okay, maybe not.”
“You told Alex I cheated on him,” she practically spits out, her gaze fiery.
The couple near the window display both glance in our direction. I flash them a quick, reassuring smile before returning my atten
tion to Tiffany. “This probably isn’t the right time to discuss this.”
“There is no right time to discuss this, you stupid bitch. You ruined everything for me!” She lifts her hands up in front of her, and I notice they’re clutched into fists. And that her nail polish matches the bloody color of her lips.
“You should probably leave,” I tell her. Iris would do the same thing. At least, I think she would. “There’s no need for that sort of language in our store.”
“There’s no need for you being such a goddamn snitch either. How dare you tell him such lies!” She starts to walk toward me, but I walk faster, putting the table in between us.
“I let him know what I saw when I dropped off the save the date cards,” I say as calmly as possible. “That’s it.”
“You didn’t see shit,” she hisses. She’s really good at hissing. I remember her doing this to Alex during our first meeting.
She should be good at it, since she’s such a snake.
I almost smile at my little mental joke.
“Please leave,” I tell her again, noting the tremor in my voice. I hope she doesn’t notice. “There’s no need to cause a disturbance, Tiffany. What happened to your relationship is no one’s fault but your own.”
“Oh, fuck you and your sanctimonious attitude!” She grabs one of the heavy invitation binders and shoves it right off the table, sending it and all the papers that were there flying to the floor.
The browsing couple exits the store hurriedly, the bell ringing above the door indicating their departure.
“Cassie,” I call, my gaze never leaving Tiffany’s. I can’t believe how calm I sound. “Call 9-1-1, okay?”
Tiffany’s jaw hardens, her lips thinning until they almost disappear. “You’d really do that? Get the cops involved?”
“I think she’s already doing that.” I send a quick glance in Cassie’s direction to see she’s holding the phone, but it doesn’t look like she’s dialing.
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