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“So, you bag a sex god, and you didn’t get his name?”
I took in her arched eyebrow. The questions on her face were completely readable. And I couldn't blame her for them. If our roles were reversed, which they usually were, I would have been asking much worse. I usually lived vicariously through her sexual escapades.
“He wouldn’t give it to me. Believe me, I asked him, but he was pretty adamant.” Sighing, I leant back in my chair. “And I have to say, he was right when he said it would make it better.”
“Better?” she screeched, and I winced. “How can it be better not to know his name, Taylor? Don’t you want a repeat performance?”
A repeat performance? Of course, I did. Having him do those things to me on a regular basis would be amazing. But somehow, knowing it was only going to be one night made it close to perfect. There was nothing that could spoil those memories now. “Of course, I would have liked that, but believe me, the memories he’s left me with...” Squeezing my thighs together under the table, I let out another sigh. “The memories will keep me going for a while.”
I don’t know what made me glance around as the words left my mouth, but they landed on the man who had been grinning again. He was still smiling. A smug, knowing twitch of his lips told me he was listening keenly to our conversation. What was up with that? I stared at him until the smile slipped from his face, but he didn’t meet my gaze. If he had, I would have said something. Told him to stop listening, maybe. But he didn’t, so I couldn’t. I wasn’t about to confront a stranger because I thought he might be listening to a private conversation we were having loudly in public. I wasn’t that outspoken.
“Well, Taylor, I'm proud of you. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Clapping her hands like a child, Annie surveyed me. “My little Taylor going to a bar alone and picking up a man for a good time? What brought it on? What made you think, damn, I'm going to use and abuse him tonight?”
“If you had seen him, you wouldn’t need to ask those questions. But I was feeling a little reckless. You know, because of jury duty.” Even saying the words out loud made my happiness deflate.
“The doctor wouldn’t give you a jury duty free card, huh?”
I puffed out a breath. “I hadn't even got the words ‘jury duty’ out of my mouth before he shut me down.” Rolling my eyes, I didn’t even try to hide my disappointment. “Supposedly, my job isn't an important excuse.”
Annie reached for my hand across the table, squeezing my fingers gently. “Your job is plenty important, Taylor. You dress brides for the biggest day of their lives. That’s important.”
I agreed with her. My job in a small bridal shop was important. Maybe not to everyone, but to me and the brides I helped.
“I wish you could get out of this, Taylor.” The way she said it made my head snap up. “I've been doing a little research.”
“Annie, please don’t. I'm not looking forward to this at all. And…”
“This man, the one on trial, do you have any idea who he is?”
“A murderer,” I said simply.
“A mass murderer, Taylor. He’s linked, one way or another, to more murders than I have fingers.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “He’s a serial killer?” Why hadn't that been mentioned to us? Nervously, I glanced around. Were we in danger? Was I a target sitting out in the open? We had been promised secrecy, and I had to believe in that. I had to believe in the system.
“More like an assassin for hire. Linked to one of the biggest crime families in the world. He is one dangerous man. I don’t even want to think of you in the same room as him. I've got no idea why he came over here to continue his little murder spree, but I wish he had stayed in America.”
I did a double take. “American?”
Annie gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you never do any digging, Taylor? It's like you're not a girl at all. He’s from America. No one knows what business he has over here, but I'm betting it's not anything good. Especially if someone ended up dead.”
I nodded silently, taking in her words but at the same time, distracted by one. American. The man I had been with last night had a twinge of an accent. I hadn't pegged it for American, more European, Italy or some place like that, but there had been times when I thought that he sounded like one of the actors from my favourite movies. I shook the thought away. A coincidence it had to be. London was a big city. With people living in it from all over the world.
“Taylor, are you ok? You’ve gone pale and…”
My hand shaking, I lifted the mug back to my lips. I wasn’t sure if I was ok or not, but I smiled through my unease. “Yeah, I don’t suppose you found a photo of him, did you?”
She lifted an eyebrow at me, and I could understand her puzzlement. She had no way of knowing what I was feeling uneasy about.
“That’s where things get really scary. There are none.” Waggling her eyebrows, she giggled. “Which kind of makes sense, doesn’t it? If he’s some big bad assassin, he probably wouldn’t want his face everywhere. His enemies would know who to look out for then, wouldn’t they?”
“That’s true.”
“He’s probably some middle–aged pot bellied dude, right? I mean, all the gangsters I've seen on the news have not been like they are portrayed in the movies. They are all tracksuit-wearing, sweaty…”
She had a point, and it was a point I was going to cling onto. Modern media made these dangerous men style icons. Sex symbols even. But in reality, they weren't anything like that. Not that it gave me much peace. I had a horrible crawling sensation up my back. Almost like someone was watching me. Turning sharply in my seat, I half expected the man who had been staring at us so intently to be there, his eyes glued to my back. He wasn’t. His table was empty. Just a half–finished muffin sitting on a plate next to a pale pink rose.
“Wish I knew what he looked like.” I dragged my eyes away from the single flower and settled them back onto my friend with a small smile.
