“EVELYN HARPER?” HER EYES ARE wide, a bright blue, and soft waves of long blonde hair frame her face. She’s beautiful. Young. My heart squeezes a little knowing she’s the woman my brother-in-law chooses over Melissa. Determination to find proof lights within my forced smile as I stand from my chair.
“Amelia Moreau?” She nods. “Thank you for meeting me.” I extend my hand and she presses her palm to mine.
“No. Thank you. I’m glad this worked out.” She smooths the front of her blouse, and her eyes dart around the busy coffee bar.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She shakes her head. “Oh, I’m fine.”
I point to the chair next to mine and we both take a seat. Nerves rattle my mind, and my hands shake so noticeably I clasp them together in my lap. I don’t meet with clients on my own. It’s mostly a safety issue, and for a moment I question whether I’m doing the right thing. I shake it off with an exhale and what I hope is a warm smile. “Your inquiry said you had a potential date you wanted us to investigate?”
“Yes. I’m . . .” She glances around again and drops her gaze when answering. “This is embarrassing to say, but since coming to America I’ve had some not so good dating experiences.”
I lean forward to encourage her to continue. She lifts her gaze to meet mine and her eyes hold a depth of sincerity that’s startling. I have to work to keep my expression level when she speaks.
“It’s just that I am from a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. My father and uncles know everyone’s family, so I knew all the men I dated there. But here, in the city . . .” Her attention drops to the glass table top and she seems to study the industrial gears that make up the design visible from beneath it.
I nod to encourage her to continue. “Yes?”
“The last man I dated was married,” she blurts. Her eyes are wide as she covers her mouth, almost as if she’d like to take back the words. “I didn’t know. I would never have started something with him, but it’s enough that I don’t want to repeat it.”
Anger coils inside at her admission. She must be referring to Drew. “Neither do I,” I retort and Amelia’s head tilts with her stare. Crap. That came out harsher than I meant. I stumble to cover my blunder. “In my line of work, we unfortunately see so much of that. Families torn apart by cheating. People pretending they’re someone other than who or what they are.”
Her spine straightens and she nods once. I’m not quite sure how to read her, so I lean back and take a sip from my lukewarm coffee.
“Your accent is beautiful, Amelia. Where exactly are you from?”
“France. I’m here on a student visa.”
I nod and try to smile again. “That’s exciting. Are you studying anything in particular?”
“Yes. I’m here for my doctorate in computer science.”
“That’s impressive. What did you say you did for work again?”
“I didn’t.” She gathers her purse and digs around for her keys. “Do you have any questions about the man I’d like you to look into?” She raises her brow and holds my stare.
I could kick myself. My over eagerness is coming through. The last thing I need is for her to be on guard. “Yes. I’ll need everything you know about him. You can email that to us. Name, age, contact information, social media profiles. Anything you have, and we’ll take it from there. We will vet him for you, but also, we want to know what are you looking for exactly. That he’s not married or in a relationship is the primary concern, but we can also look into how susceptible he is to cheating, or even if he’d be open to paying for companionship . . . If those are also concerns of yours.”
“I think it would be easier if I don’t date at all!” She laughs on a harsh, tense breath, and for a glimmer of a second I see apprehension in her gaze.
I almost feel sorry for her, but then I remember she’s the reason for my sister’s unhappiness. “Our services don’t come cheap, but we guarantee results. I can send you over a contract and if everything looks agreeable, we’ll get started upon payment.”
“Can I think about it? I really am not sure I am cut out for American dating.” Her lips mash together and her left leg bounces from where it crosses over her right.
“Of course. There’s no commitment until you send the first payment.” Her body language screams that she’s ready to escape, but before she does I have to ask. “Just curious, how did you hear about us?”
Her eyes flick to her purse and she pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen before she meets my gaze again. “Oh, it was a colleague from the university. I’m sorry, I must go now. I have to get back to work.”
“Sure. Of course.” I stand when she does and offer my hand to shake hers again. “It was nice to meet you, Amelia. We’ll be in touch.”
She nods, offers a quick good-bye, and leaves me to ponder what the hell that just was. I’m a good judge of character, and while she seemed more than honest and authentic with some answers, there were times I could tell she didn’t want me to pry. The smart thing would be to come clean and admit to Jon what I did, recap tonight’s conversation, and accept the verbal thrashing he’s sure to deliver. Or . . .
An idea strikes.
Yeah, I’ve already gone down a path I can’t erase. What the hell. Might as well go all out. I spring out of my seat, dig my keys from my bag, and cross the coffee shop in time to spot Amelia sliding into the driver’s seat of a silver Corolla. As casually as I can, I rush to my own car so I can tail her and discover exactly what she’s hiding.
Sneaking into the gated courtyard of Amelia’s condo complex proves no challenge. One flash of my smile and a college kid holds it open for me to pass first. I watched Amelia from my car and waited exactly five minutes before following. Plenty of time for her to climb one flight of stairs and go inside. At least, I hope she didn’t get held up. I’m extra careful, walking the lower perimeter of housing with my head down just in case.
Circling the community pool, empty on this April evening, I find a shrub I can hole up behind to shield my body from her second story view. The only problem. I’ll appear quite conspicuous crouched down at the edge of someone’s patio. The smart idea would be to leave now, but my compulsion to have this entire ordeal—along with the suspicion that Amelia’s hiding something—behind me causes me to throw caution to the wind.
Thankfully, there’re no motion censored patio lights and I slink into my hiding spot without drawing attention. The complex isn’t loud or busy. A few smokers step outside from time to time, and people come and go. Amelia’s door is in perfect view, and before I can check the time on my cell, a young man comes through the gate and jogs the steps straight to her door. He knocks once, and she greets him with a warm smile before he steps inside.
Not an hour goes by before the man leaves, and minutes later another appears, doing the exact same thing. I wish I had my equipment bag so I could photograph their faces. My cell captures images much too blurry from this distance. Instead I dig through my oversized purse and retrieve an old pair of binoculars. Never knowing when the opportunity might arise, I keep them with me so I’m always prepared.
The same pattern—one man leaves, another arrives to take his place—happens at the hour mark and dread fills my gut as I suspect my sister guessed right. Drew’s been paying for Amelia’s time. Except while these guys are only paying for an hour, he’s booking her entire night. She’s obviously running a business from her home, and illegally, since she got so uncomfortable when I started asking questions. She’s beautiful and bright, not someone I’d associate with prostitution, but my experience there is limited, even with my line of work.
I just can’t believe Drew would pay for her company.
I have to tell my sister. God, I don’t want to.
“Can I help you?” A deep voice at my back scares the shit out of me and I jump from where I’m crouched behind the shrubbery. Whirling, I’m met with brooding brown eyes framed beneath an Arizona State baseball cap.
“I don’t need any help, thank you.” I smile sweetly but his expression doesn’t change. If anything, it hardens with his scrutiny.
“Ma’am, you’re on private property. If you’re not here for an actual purpose, you need to leave.”
Ma’am. I dislike how that sounds. I’m only a few years older than him, and his calculating stare is filled with arrogance. As if he knows I’m not supposed to be here. Dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a university T-shirt, he has no authority over me. Who made him the condo police? Channeling my inner Kate, I push my shoulders back and meet his glare with one of my own.
“I’m not doing anything that concerns you. Maybe you should go back to your apartment and finish your homework, young man.” The retort comes out bitchier than I intend and my eyes widen along with his.
“You’re spying on my friend. It sure as hell concerns me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap. You’re watching Amelia. Why?” He crosses his arms over his chest. I glance around, not wanting to draw attention. The place is like a ghost town and suddenly I feel very stupid for not letting anyone know where I am. Sure, this guy looks harmless but I don’t know him, and he obviously feels the need to play the tough guy. Maybe he’s a neighbor. Or maybe he’s one of her clients, but fell in love with her and now he’s obsessed.
Meeting his stare, I tip my head to her door. “How do you know Amelia?”
“I ain’t telling you shit, and you need to leave. Now. Before I call the cops.”
I let loose a relieved breath. If he really were dangerous, he wouldn’t be threatening to call anyone. Unless he’s trying to call my bluff. I decide to beat him to it. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you? Because then I’d have to share with the police why your friend is breaking at least six laws with the little song and dance she’s running up there.”
“Is that why you’re here? You and that other man have been watching her. She’s not in trouble, is she? She’s a good person.”
“Good people don’t cheat.”
“Cheat? Look I know taxes are important, but she’s offering a legit service because she has to, not because she wants to spend her nights like this. Just don’t . . . don’t send her away. If there’s something she’s doing illegally, she can change it. Make up for it. Just don’t take away her opportunity to be here.”
He must not know who I am, or he thinks I have connections to law enforcement. I don’t correct him. That assumption provides me added safety, even though I don’t think he’d really hurt me. He’s protective. He’s more concerned with Amelia. “You love her,” I say, the realization falling from my lips.
“Who are you with? What can I do to help her?” His voice grows louder with each question.
I watch Amelia’s door from the corner of my eye, and when it swings open, her smiling face fills the entry as the man inside exits and waves good-bye. I turn away, internally chastising myself for this suicide mission. I’m not prepared. I had no real cover for being here, and the nineteen-year-old kid standing at my side could blow the entire investigation.
He glances at me, and then over my shoulder to wave. “Hey, Amelia.”
“Carlos, hey!”
“Good night?” he calls up, and I shoot him a warning glare. His brow rises, along with the corner of his mouth as if he finds my attempt at intimidation amusing. I try another tactic.
“Please don’t,” I whisper.
“More of the same,” Amelia answers and there’s a tinge of distress in her voice. I guess even prostitution gets wearisome day after day. “You going out?” There’s a change in her tone and I’m absolutely certain she sees me, but I don’t turn around. I pray my outfit of jeans, plain white tee and Chucks is simple enough she doesn’t expect I’m the same women from the coffee bar.
“Nah. Walking out a friend from class. You free later?”
Amelia laughs. “Carlos, it’s almost nine o’clock. You know I don’t go out.”
His smile transforms his face as a chuckle escapes his lips. “One of these days I’ll wear you down.” He really is attractive. “Good night, Amelia.” He waves.
“Good night, Carlos.”
The bang of a closing door erases the joy from his features and he balances his stare back on me. “Who are you?”
“I’m someone trying to protect someone I love.”
His laughter is a bark in the night. “Same intentions, but that doesn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“Then I guess it’s time for you to go.” He reaches for my shoulder but I jump out of his reach.
“I can see myself out.” I back up another step, my eyes on the gate as well as Amelia’s apartment in case she’s doing a little spying of her own. “Carlos.” Yeah, that’s right. I know your name and you don’t know mine.
“Excuse me for making certain you do.” He follows my steps with his gaze, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t follow me out. The moment I push open the gate, I run to my car. My heart hammers in my chest because even though I don’t think he’ll chase me, this entire encounter has been too close for comfort. Too dangerous. Exactly why I shouldn’t do field work. At least, not without Jon there for back-up. It was reckless to come here tonight. I only learned more of what I already suspected: Amelia takes appointments in her condo on the hour. Prostitution. It only adds more disappointment to the way I feel about Drew. He wasn’t only cheating on my sister. He was paying for it.
Tears threaten to fall as I peel out of the lot and I don’t even think, steering my car toward the club where Tate works. I need to tell my sister what I saw and Jon what I did, but there’s nothing I need more than to see my man. Have his arms wrapped around me. That’s what I need right now. To assure him, and myself, that no matter the shit storm taking place around us, he’s the man for me.
The drive goes by in a blur, my pulse racing along with the miles. Tate’s almost finished for the night because his last private training session ends at ten. I should head home to wait for him there, but I can’t stand to be alone right now . . .with my thoughts or today’s revelation.
Pushing through the door to Lift Me Up, I wave a quick hello to one of the girls who work the front counter. She offers a smile as I stride past on my way toward the locker rooms that lead to the weight and cardio floor. I shove at the door but meet resistance, along with a squeal. Crap.
“I’m so sorry—” The words tumble from my mouth but when I see who it is I’m stunned silent. Lindsay.
“Oh, excuse me.” She giggles and flips her blonde locks over her right shoulder. Dressed in casual clothes and wearing full makeup, she looks far too put together for a woman who just completed a workout. I hate her a little more. “Evie, right?”
“Yeah, and you’re Lauren?” I know that’s not her name, but I can’t stand the way she’s smiling at me as though we’re the best of friends. She slept with my fiancé. Sure, it was years before I met him, but still. She’s no friend of mine.
“Lindsay.” Her smile dims a little. “Sorry, I didn’t see you. I’m completely destroyed after a session with Tate. He sure knows how to work me over.” She rolls her eyes and laughs as if it’s a joke I’d find funny.
I don’t.
“Pardon?”
“I probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” She laughs again and if I had a sharp object in my hand I’m not sure I could be held responsible for my actions. Lucky for her, all I have is my twenty-dollar purse from Target.
“Yeah, he’s the best. That’s why I’m marrying him on Saturday.” I smile wide but it’s forced and I hate the way it feels on my face.
“Right! Of course. I’m so embarrassed that I crashed the bachelor party. He was sweet to invite me over. I’m still making friends here.”
What. The. Fuck?
“Excuse me. I really need to find Tate,” I say before she can continue.
“See you around, Evie!” she calls out, but I’m already through the locker room and pushing out the other door.
I scan the floor but it only takes a few seconds to spot Tate working with a client. Counting out reps and spotting one of his heavy weightlifters at the squat rack, he doesn’t see me coming when I stomp between the machines and equipment. I cross my arms over my chest, chewing the inside of my cheek while I wait for him to lift his gaze and find me in the mirror.
His client finishes his reps and Tate’s eyes widen with his smile when he notices me behind him. “Evie!” He pulls me into his arms. “What a nice surprise, babe.” When I don’t return his embrace, he pulls back a step. “Evie?”
“Tate.” My eyes burn. I don’t know where to look so I find the floor. Today was a monumentally shitty day and I wanted to find peace in his arms, but that’s been tainted with my little run-in with his ex. She was at his party? He invited her? Worse, he never said a thing. The hurt from that mixes with Drew’s cheating and I have to wonder if all men are the same. You think you can trust them, but you can’t.
“Evie, is everything okay?” His brow furrows beneath his ball cap and it’s all I can do to not scoff. Is everything okay? Is he really that clueless or is he covering his ass?
“Nothing is okay. By the way, I just ran into your girlfriend.”
His gaze puzzles with his frown and the moment he connects to whom I’m referring, he steps back. “I’m finishing up with a client. Can we talk after I get off work?”
“Didn’t expect I’d be stopping by, huh?” Anger, along with the confidence wrecking feeling of being utterly duped courses through me and I cross my arms over my chest.
“Evie. Enough. This is crazy talk.” His voice is low and harsh. It only elevates mine.
“What? Now I’m the crazy one? You know what? Maybe I am. For thinking it was a good idea to rush into this wedding. After the day I’ve had, I’m not sure of anything right now.”
Tate’s gaze narrows, his jaw ticking back and forth. When he speaks again his words are bit out in a command. “Evie. I have a client. Go wait in my office.”
My mouth opens and my worst fear flies out before I can help myself. “Are you sleeping with her?”
“Dave, why don’t you go get started on rowing sprints. Sixty seconds hard, thirty rest,” Tate instructs.
“Sure.” Dave nods, averting his somewhat wary gaze and walking away. It’s late enough that there aren’t many people here in the gym, but everyone who remains is staring at the spectacle I’m making. Normally I’d care, but I’m so pissed off right now I don’t give a fuck. Let them look.
Tate grips my elbow and has to practically drag me with him. He doesn’t say a word. In fact, his face gives nothing away. No anger, no lies, nothing.
“What? Don’t want to air your dirty laundry where you work? Should’ve thought about that before sneaking behind my back with a client.” The words leave my lips in a growl, but still he says nothing until we reach his office. He pushes me inside before he turns to lock the door. The overhead lights sense our movement and flick on, and the harsh fluorescents illuminate the tight lines of his mouth. He doesn’t lift his eyes.
All the anger from before melts in the silence, in the space between us. What I’m left with is only more confusion and hurt. My words are a whisper. “How could you do this to me? To us?”
His eyes close a moment and he grumbles something I can’t make out before his gaze snaps open to pin me with a glare. “I’m a tolerant man, Evie. I didn’t say shit when you went into business with your best friend—who was still completely in love with you, by the way. I don’t say a thing about the late nights, or the secrets you have to keep for work. I don’t worry or give you grief, and you know why?”
He pauses, but before I can open my mouth to answer he continues, and this time his voice raises, oozing with irritation. “Because I trust you! I fucking trust you, Evie. I love you and I know you love me, too. I’ve never doubted you once. Now you come into my workplace . . . Disrespecting me and my clients? Why? Why did you come here? What caused you to do something so hurtful?”
“You don’t understand,” I bite out, but his cuts me off.
“I would never do this to you. Never.”
“You are so damn self-righteous for someone who invited his ex-girlfriend to his bachelor party! Did you think I wouldn’t find out? How would you think that’s okay?”
“Evie, that was nothing! Jesus, you had strippers at your bachelorette party even when I asked you not to.” His eyes narrow and he shakes his head as if I’m overreacting. As if that’s the same. Like this is no big deal.
“I didn’t hire the strippers! That was nothing. This! This is not nothing. You knew that! That’s probably why you didn’t tell me, isn’t it? What else are you hiding?”
“Oh, my God!” he shouts, tearing his hat off and scrubbing his free hand over his hair. “Really? That’s what you think? There’s nothing going on with me and Lindsay,” he declares, but there’s a laugh to his tone.
I shake my head and he meets my hard stare with an expression of disbelief. It’s a standoff that only lasts a moment but feels like forever. I’m supposed to marry this man in a few days. I’m supposed to trust him. We’re not supposed to have doubts. “I can’t believe you,” I whisper and his eyes drop along with his frown. He’s disappointed. I am too.
“I have to get back to work. We can talk about this when I get off. Just wait here.”
But I can’t just sit here cooling my heels. “You know what? I’m gonna go before we say anything else hurtful that can’t be taken back. I need some space right now.” I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back tears because the reality of this moment, that this could be the beginning of the end for us, hits like a sucker punch I never saw coming.
“Space? What does that even mean?” He lifts his face to the ceiling and exhales a rush of breath. “We’re getting married in five days!” He turns his gaze on me, bursting with all the pain and hurt I feel. It would be so easy to fold. Give in. Move forward and pretend things are fine. But I won’t do that. I can’t trust him. I don’t trust myself. Us.
“Yeah, and you’d think my fiancé wouldn’t be keeping secrets from me a few days before the wedding.” The words taste foul in my mouth. I can hardly hold his gaze.
“What secrets? That Lindsay happened to be in the same restaurant when we had lunch yesterday? That she was sitting alone and I felt bad for her and invited her to join us? You call that a secret?”
If that’s how it went down . . . But he doesn’t understand. I’ve seen the way she looks at him. She’s not in it for friendship or a good workout. “What are you, blind? She obviously wants you.”
“Evie, it was lunch. With a table of friends. Completely innocent.”
“Or awfully convenient.”
“Look, we can talk about this when I get home. I need to get back to work.” He glances at his watch and his eyes go to the door.
This isn’t a good time. I get that. But I don’t see how re-hashing the same stuff will change the result. I need perspective. I need space. “I’m not going home.”
“Okay . . .” His words leave in a breath.
I straighten my spine, my resolution clear. “I’m going to my sister’s. I need to talk to her. I’m going to stay the night.” He nods until I add that last part.
“Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.”
I shake my head. “I just need a minute to think, okay? I can’t when all I ever do is run into your ex-girlfriend and investigate my cheating brother-in-law. I don’t know what’s real anymore. Or what’s right. I need some time.”
“Okay.” He nods, his frown still in place. I don’t dare look into his eyes because they’re so full of sorrow. Right now it takes everything I have to not dive into his arms. Tate opens the door for us. “Take the time you need and then come find me. I’ll be waiting. I’ll be home.”
With that, I nod and leave the gym before I change my mind.