Page 27 of Gilt

“I didn’t, but I’m not exactly President of the Monroe Appreciation Club.”

She grabs my phone and scans the information. By the time she’s done reading it, she’ll probably know more about him than I do. “He went to military school and then attended Stanford,” she tells me.

“That surprises me.” I snatch the phone back and scan the short biography on his father’s Wiki entry.

“Nathaniel’s son.” She pauses and stares at me, completely neglecting her ice cream cone, which drips all over her hand. “Holy shit, Em. Your dad is going to freak out.”

“You can say that again.” I brace myself for telling her the part I’ve been leaving out. “Nathaniel is dead. The police called me in to check Jameson’s alibi.”

“Did he actually do it?” she breathes.

“That’s what I don’t know,” I admit. Part of me wants to say he couldn’t have done it, even while the rest of me calls me out on my own BS. Two tiny voices have been whispering their opinions since we left the station, and I can’t decide which one to listen to.

“What did your dad say?” she asks.

“He doesn’t know, and I hope he doesn’t find out.” I know she won’t say anything to him. I can’t say the same for the rest of the world. How long can I really keep this a secret?

“As if this isn’t going to be headline news.” Josie drops her unfinished cone onto a napkin and rubs her stomach. “I feel sick.”

“Imagine how I feel. I made out with the son of my father’s worst enemy, who also might be a murderer. I’m winning at life, wouldn’t you say?”

“You didn’t know.” But that line isn’t any more comforting coming from her. “So Nathaniel West is dead.”

“Yeah. Monroe was at the station. I felt bad for her.”

“Of course you did. You have a heart.” Josie’s head drops to my shoulder.

“Then I told her off for screwing Jonas,” I add.

“You also have moxie. This is going to be a really long summer.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking…maybe I should go to stay with my mom in Palm Springs.” There’s going to be media scrutiny. I could hope that my name wouldn’t get dragged into this, but given that Nathaniel West consistently ranked in People magazine’s most interesting people articles and he’d once been interviewed by Barbara Walters, it seems like a safe bet that anything and everything that has to do with his murder will get leaked.

“Will they let you?”

“It’s not that far away.” This morning when my mother suggested it, it was dead last on my list of summer activities right under ‘take a pottery class’ and ‘go vegan,’ but my stepfather knows a thing or two about nosey reporters coming from Hollywood. “It’s my best bet not to wind up on the cover of every tabloid in America.”

“What about Jameson?”

It’s strange to hear her calling him that. Even if it is his real name. “What about him? We kissed. We didn’t elope.”

“That kiss dragged you into a murder investigation,” she points out.

“Yes, no first date will ever live up to that one again.”

“Did you talk to him?”

I shake my head, remembering how he tried to call out to me at the station. Part of me wants to hear him out, but what good could possibly come out of it. The police had a reason to suspect him. “I was in the right place at the right time. He needed someone to say he was busy during the murder.”

“And you were busy,” Josie waggles her eyebrows, and I elbow her in the ribs. “Maybe he really was with you when it happened. You should call him.”

“I didn’t get his number. I woke up alone with no note.”

“Ouch!” Josie exclaims, and I can already feel her sassy side coming out. “Never mind if he played you like that. Let him fry.”

“He did fold up my dress,” I say in his defense.

“That doesn’t make up for stealing the booty,” she chastises me.