CHAPTER TEN
“I called you in hopes that you could talk some sense into me,” Laurel said harshly into the phone while staring at herself in the mirror of Smith’s bathroom. “Grace, you need to call me back in five minutes and say you have an emergency you need my help with.”
Laurel had gotten dressed at her apartment, though that was a bit of an understatement. It had taken her trying on five different outfits before settling on a pair of black dress pants and a cream silk blouse that had bell sleeves. She’d also worn black flats out of spite. She’d now changed her mind about this whole bleeding mess. She needed to hit the back door running.
Her makeup was flawless, giving her the luxury of being stressed about the upcoming dinner without anyone the wiser. Lipstick and eyeliner were wonderful weapons. Makeup was better camouflage than the troops had in combat.
Other than that?
She was a complete mental wreck.
What had she been thinking? Who the hell thought having dinner with Smith’s family had been a good idea? She’d given a little ground in the relationship department, but then the whole meeting the family thing flew up in her face. Wasn’t there supposed to be a timeline for these kinds of things? Didn’t that garner her some contractual amount of time to get used to being the eye candy on Smith Gallo’s arm?
“You let him sleep over at your place, Laurel,” Grace said wryly, not telling Laurel something she didn’t already know. “Common sense went out the window last night, so you’re a little late on that front. Wait. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, I’m not with child. Jesus Christ! I’m going to hyperventilate now. I think my chest might explode.” Laurel bent at the waist, resting her forearms on the edge of the countertop. She tried to even out her breathing so she wouldn’t pass out. “His parents are going to hate me. They’ll think I’m after the money, his trust fund, or whatever those Ivy League bean counters call their ill-gotten fortunes.”
“Why would they have an issue? You’re the one rushing to judgement. Do you think they hate every sweet, intelligent, and highly successful woman who their son brings to dinner? Hell, you were competing against their son for a partnership. That puts you on the same playing field as their bouncing baby boy,” Grace reasoned, suddenly breaking off to cover the mic on her phone.
Laurel couldn’t make out any of the words.
“Is that Cynthia? Put her on the line. Maybe she’ll be more helpful, because sweet isn’t how I would describe a woman whose first thought at seeing a dead body was how it was going to affect her employment prospects.” Laurel stood, wishing she’d taken her time in doing so. The blood rushed from her head, causing the room to spin round like a top. A glance in the mirror once the flashing lights dimmed told her that her makeup hadn’t been disturbed in the slightest. “Do you think they’ll ask where I went to college?”
“What the hell is wrong with an accredited online college? Get over yourself, Laurel.” That was the thing with best friends. They didn’t mince words. They also didn’t let you get away with bullshit without calling you out on it. Laurel also realized that Grace hadn’t confirmed who she was with, which wasn’t like her. “You’re making things more complicated than they have to be, especially given that Sebastian Gallo was arrested for a brawl at First Ave. I don’t think the Gallos have room to talk about their son’s prospects.”
Laurel had never thought to put things in perspective like that, but it did make it a little easier for her to breathe. She wondered how Grace had known about Sebastian, but she asked her own question instead.
“Where are you, anyway?” Grace most likely wanted to know how Laurel could be talking like this without Smith overhearing her. “You sound like you’re in a tunnel. Did you lock yourself in the bathroom?”
“We came back to Smith’s apartment. And yes, I’m in the bathroom. He’s in the bedroom getting dressed for the evening.” She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, having chosen to wear her hair up tonight. It kept her heavy mane off her neck. “He, uh, hadn’t planned on spending the night. He didn’t have a change of clothes at my place. By the way, Detective Nielsen and Detective Mancini stopped by my apartment last night. They asked about Gareth and Cynthia. I don’t know why, considering Gareth wasn’t even in town and Cynthia was at a business dinner the whole time.”
“My hunch is that Marilyn caved under the pressure and spilled the beans regarding the argument Cynthia and Gareth had early last week in the office.”
Grace once again pulled the phone away to speak with someone.
“Who are you with?” Laurel tried to listen even more closely than before, but she couldn’t make out who the other party was, other than it was a man. “Grace, is there something you’re not telling me? I tell you everything.”
“Yes.” The answer was given so suddenly that Laurel thought she’d only imagined the reply in her head. “There is, but I can’t tell you over the phone. Go and enjoy your dinner tonight with Smith’s family. We’ll talk tomorrow at the office when we get a minute.”
And just like that, Grace disconnected the line without so much as a goodbye.
Laurel was still staring at her cell phone when Smith opened the door and walked into the bathroom, wearing a pair of black dress pants and a sweater that had to have been tailored just for him. The gray and black woven material formed itself to his upper body in such a way that it left little to the imagination, yet the pattern lay perfect. She almost pulled the pin and suggested they skip dinner to spend the rest of the night in his bed, but he beat her to the punch and spoke first.
“Everything okay in here?” Smith’s worried gaze dropped to the phone in her hand.
“I don’t know,” Laurel answered honestly, wishing she could get Grace back on the line. Laurel had a strange feeling her friend wouldn’t answer, and that caused another round of concern for her friend. “I think she was with a man.”
“And that’s unusual how?” Smith asked, his eyebrow cocked in amusement. “Grace is an attractive woman in her own right. Plus, someone mentioned to me the other day that she was having an intimate dinner with Rye Marshall.”
“Rye Marshall? From Marshall Securities?” Laurel had truly thought her day couldn’t get much worse, but she should know better than to tempt fate. “He’s Manon Investments’ top competitor. Grace would never do that to the firm. She has principles.”
“Just like our compliance officer at Manon Investments wouldn’t get involved with one of our top clients? Or that two of the analysts who were up for promotion wouldn’t ruin their chances at partnership on an intimate relationship? Oh, and don’t forget that one of those analysts is about to start up his own competing fund, splitting the two leaders on the board.”
Laurel understood that the financial industry, as well as many others, was very cutthroat and bloodthirsty. Fortunately, it had never affected her personally.
Now?
She was screwed.
She’d gotten herself into a mess. Somehow, she knew all of the players very well in this little melodrama. She’d worked with the deceased. And she was the one to discover Brad Manon’s dead body.
“Oh, no. This is bad. Really bad.” Laurel pressed the home button on her phone, quickly reconnecting the call with Grace. “She’s going to be Detective Nielsen’s prime suspect if he finds out about this.”
Smith stepped behind Laurel, attempting to massage the tension out of her shoulders. This position had both of them facing the mirror, but amazingly, she didn’t notice any differences other than a man comforting a woman. They even looked good together.
“A candlelight dinner doesn’t necessarily mean that Grace is involved with Rye,” Smith said, attempting to smooth over her concern. “They could be close friends, for all we know. Or she could have been accepting a first-class meal in exchange for listening to his recruiting pitch. You know, that’s not out of the question.”
It still didn’t look good in the grand scheme of things. Laurel closed her eyes as his magical fingers did their job, but it was short-lived. The endless ringing eventually went to Grace’s voicemail.
“Grace, call me back the second you get this message. It can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Laurel didn’t want to leave any message which might be construed as incriminating on a voicemail, just in case the police didn’t know about Grace’s so-called involvement with their competitor.
“She’s an intelligent woman, Laurel.” Smith pressed a kiss to her temple, something he’d never done before. He’d been showing her the different facets of his personality since Friday night, and there wasn’t one she really disliked. She would have thought this was a problem, but Grace’s counsel and Smith’s assurance that everything would be alright had her believing them. “She’ll be fine. And so will we, because I finally get to introduce the woman in my life to my family.”
Laurel didn’t take a step toward the door the way Smith had clearly thought she would, bringing him up short. There was something she needed to know first.
“You never intended for our relationship to be merely temporary, did you?”
Smith stared at her in the mirror a little too long for her comfort.
“No, I didn’t.”
For some reason, the confidence in his response had butterflies setting up residence in her stomach. How had she missed all the usual signs?
“You…” Laurel cleared her throat, still coming to terms with the fact that he could have chosen any woman within his own social circle. Granted, she was also free to choose any man who respected and admired her for who she was, but he was proving to be all those things and more. She certainly couldn’t hold the fact that he had money against him, could she? There was one glitch in this perfect scenario he’d concocted, not that she was looking for any more complex anomalies than the situation already had. She wasn’t. “You’re assuming I’m going to stay in Minneapolis after the company closes. What happens if I go to New York?”
Smith studied her, and she got the feeling that he was holding something else back that could affect their future. He was too unruffled by her question. It was as if he had some kind of inside information. Then again, she hadn’t given him much confidence that she was open to something more. She was trying her hardest, though.
“Let’s take this one day at a time.” Smith leaned down so that he was eye level with her in the mirror. The faintest scent of his cologne enveloped her, for some reason causing her to believe that tonight might actually be a success. It helped that he gave her a boyish smile she’d never seen with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Are you ready to meet my parents?”
“No,” Laurel replied with as much confidence as he had regarding their relationship.
Her immediate response garnered the laugh she was hoping for, but her stomach still felt like a playing field for butterflies inside of a globe. He released her shoulders, stroking a hand down her arm and grabbing her hand. He went to guide her out of the bathroom she’d been in for the last fifteen minutes, but she quickly yanked him back when a thought occurred to her that might benefit the both of them.
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
The way Smith answered had Laurel’s heartbeat stuttering against her chest. He hadn’t even hesitated a split second, and his level stare had her wishing she’d brought up the option to spend the evening in bed. Having her meet his parents was important to him, though.
“Would you spill something down that expensive sweater of yours in the middle of dinner? You know, before I spill red wine on your mother’s seventeenth century white French linen tablecloth?”
It was more than apparent Smith thought he’d heard her wrong, but when she didn’t correct any of her verbiage, he began to smile.
It gave her hope that tonight would actually go well.