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“Maybe I just wanted to see you again,” Decker replies, his voice deeper and smoother, an air of certainty lacing his words. What the hell are they playing at?
No longer needing the phone, I put it back in the exact position it was in and slowly close the drawer again. I scan the desk, searching for anything incriminating. Of course, Justin's smarter than I have given him credit for and there’s nothing but invoices and reports spread out all over the place, none of them arousing suspicion with my cursory glance.
Just as I’m about to give up I spot a folder partially hidden under some paperwork.
Curiosity piqued, I open it up. My eyes widen when I realize I’m looking at phone records for Mary Whittaker along with her DMV photo, details of her life back in Wyoming, and her CV. All of it easily to explain away given she used to work at Marquis. That’s until I see another folder with the same information for her brother Jason as well as bank statements and surveillance images. That’s not something the club would need. The problem is that none of it makes sense.
I quickly snap photos of everything I’ve found. Just as I go to slide my phone back into my pocket, it vibrates again, this time with a text.
Harry: Call me Aiden. It's urgent. We have to talk.
“So this event, are we talking a networking event? Promoting the club? What?” Marlee continues.
“It's a celebration for me and a welcome to Vegas party for you,” Decker answers.
Marlee gasps. “For me? Why?”
“I have a property in The Ridges that I’ve just closed on and it will be the perfect venue for what I have planned. And what better occasion to introduce you to the who’s who of Vegas? You’ll have clients coming out your ears and you’ll soon be the most sought-after event planner in the city.”
I whistle through my teeth. The Ridges has houses that go for fifteen million and then some. It's also exclusive and far enough out to be private if needed.
“Really?” Marlee asks excitedly, playing her role perfectly.
“Yeah, babe. All I need you to do is turn up and look gorgeous. You can do that in your sleep, I bet.” I’ve got to hand it to the bastard, he’s smooth. “Justin, show her the real estate photos.” I hold my breath and wait for Marlee to sound suitably impressed as I stand in the middle of Justin's office, looking for anything else that catches my eye.
“Damn. You don't muck around, do you? That house is beautiful” she replies right on cue, earning a chuckle from both men.
“Decker has an image to maintain,” Justin adds.
“Well, that house will definitely do that. I’ve never seen something that big.”
Decker sighs with satisfaction. “I like privacy and nice things to look at while I’m at home. Why do you think I want you there?” His voice is low and husky and I know the man well enough by now to know he's trying to charm her.
Marlee giggles right on cue before pausing. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I’m not. I’m honored you’d give me this opportunity. I just…”
“You want to know why? I get that. I figure, what’s the point of having influence if not to use it wisely? This will be an important night, Quinn. Memorable, even. One that no one will forget.” A chill washes over me at his words. He’s being cryptic as fuck and I don’t like it one bit. What is he planning?
“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything? Caterers? Security?” she says, sounding like she's working through a list in her head just like any other event planner would do.
Just as I turn to leave, my eyes fall onto a large folder sitting askew on a bookcase. Something carries me across the room to check it out.
“No need, Quinn. Look at you, all work and no play.” Decker muses. “I've asked Aiden Lawrence to be in charge for the night, do you remember him?”
“Hmm. Was he the man with Justin at our first meeting?” She’s playing this perfectly. Quinn has no connection to me, and that’s how it has to stay.
“Yep. That’s him. Good guy. Reliable. Predicable.” I pause with my hand resting on the folder. Decker thinks I’m predictable? Something isn’t sitting right about this whole ‘event.’
Thankfully, Marlee doesn’t falter. “Oh, OK. That's good then.”
“And of course, you'll be my guest for the evening. I've always had a thing for brunettes,” Decker says, his tone dripping with innuendo. I freeze in place, wondering if I heard him wrong.
I clench my fists tightly, my blood boiling. I have to remain calm and focused. I hold my breath as I wait to see whether she takes Decker's bait because it is a strange and out-of-context comment to make, almost one made to trip someone up…
“And yet you're here with me? Should I feel honored or offended that you're suggesting I change my look?”
“Not at all,” he muses. “What do you think, J? Wouldn't Quinn look breathtaking as a brunette?” In my head, he's reaching out and touching one of her soft flowing waves of dusty blonde locks and in my head, I’m ripping his hand away and punching him in the mouth.
“Um, yeah… sure,” Justin replies, sounding confused. “I bet Quinn would look good in anything though.”
