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Chapter 18
What did investigators find in Jeffrey Dahmer's shower? Head & Shoulders ~ Text from Hailey to Pops
“You sure you’re up for this?” I ask Phoebe as we exit my car in front of the Grand Hotel. “I could ask Suzie this one time.”
She giggles. “You’re serious? You would seriously ask Suzie to do this?”
“No.” I make a disgusted face. “But I thought it would make you feel better.”
“I feel better knowing you can kick someone’s ass if needed.”
I may have done a demonstration of how to put someone in a chokehold on Suzie. In my defense, she was bugging the crap out of me by hassling Phoebe about her past. My little demonstration then led to a class on how to get out of a chokehold. It was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.
“Anyway, who’s this guy and what’s the set-up?”
I fill Phoebe in as we walk to the bar of the hotel. It’s nearly the exact same scenario as last week. A guy who gets drinks with his colleagues every Wednesday after work and comes home smelling like a rose garden. Men should really learn to take a shower after they step out on their wives. It’s not like hotel rooms don’t have showers.
“Vodka martini with Stolichnaya,” Andy says as he sets the drink down on the bar in front of Phoebe.
“Dude, we literally walked in the door thirty seconds ago.”
Andy doesn’t respond to my ribbing. His attention and eyes are glued to Phoebe’s cleavage. There is plenty to see. She’s wearing a black dress with a V-neck, the V of which dips to her belly button. She is showing a lot of skin. I have no idea how her boobs are staying perky, considering it’s impossible to wear a bra with the dress. If Mrs. Yard’s husband doesn’t go for Phoebe, he’s not going to go for any woman.
I make sure Phoebe is comfortable before walking to the reception desk to get a key from Peggy.
“Do you think I could pull off her dress?” Peggy asks as she ogles Phoebe.
“Um.” Geez. How do I answer her question? Peggy is a middle-aged woman who hasn’t seen the inside of a gym in over a decade. I finally give her an honest answer. “I don’t think anyone can pull off that dress but Phoebe.” Hell, I couldn’t pull it off and I don’t need to wear a bra most of the time.
I take the key and walk back to the bar before I can get into a discussion about dresses with Peggy. I wear a dress when I have to. I have zero desire to talk about them. I slip Phoebe the key before settling myself in my dark corner.
I fiddle with my phone as I wait for the action to begin. Aiden and I have been texting back and forth since our bar date two nights ago. Nothing racy since his comment yesterday morning, though, which is probably a good thing because I am way too young to start getting hot flashes.
I look up when I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. Nope, not our guy. Just a couple laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I should text Aiden and see what he’s up to. The couple comes closer and my anger flares. I don’t need to text the rat bastard. I know exactly what – or should I say who – he’s doing.
Aiden pulls out a chair for the woman. Of course, she’s beautiful. With her blonde hair and dazzling smile, she looks like she was a cheerleader back in the day. She’s also perfectly put together. There’s not a hair out of place, her make-up looks professionally done, and she’s wearing a wraparound dress showing off all her curves.
What the hell is Aiden doing with me if this is the type of woman he usually dates? Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? He feels sorry for me. Damn it. I hate pity.
Andy places a beer on the table in front of me with a loud thunk. “What are you doing? I don’t drink when I’m working.” We’ve been working together for years. He knows this.
He points to Phoebe sitting at the bar. She widens her eyes and shakes her head at me. “Phoebe sent me over. She said she could see the steam coming out of your ears from the other side of the room.”
I’m fine, I mouth back to her. I’m totally not fine, but I’m a professional. I can get the job done.
“Tell her not to worry. I’ve got her back.”
Andy doesn’t move. “You sure. You’re not acting like the calm, cool, kick-ass PI I know you to be.”
I smile. “Thanks for calling me kick-ass. I’m fine.” I shoo him away.
As soon as Andy leaves, my gaze returns to Mr. Asshole Cheater and his Too Perfect To Be True date. She’s tilting her head back and giggling while reaching forward to touch his hand. If looks could kill, she would be dead right now. Stone. Cold. Dead.
But I’m a skilled private investigator – skilled at sniffing out cheaters anyway – and I know better than to believe everything I see. I need to give Aiden the benefit of the doubt. I pick up my phone and text him.
Hey! Do you want to meet up later at McGraw’s?
I watch as he picks up his phone and reads the message. He smiles as he types back.
