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I will stall, prod them for info, find out as much as I can, lull them into believing I am considering their offer and their threats—and hope that the cavalry will be here soon.
Chapter Four
Layla
“Hey, Laylay,” Dorothy says over the phone, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re back! How was New York? When are you coming home?”
Dorothy is my roommate and bestie, and I am about to take advantage of her. I do that often.
“Hey, Dodo.” I look up through my car window, at the café where she works. “New York was fine, but I need your help.”
“Something happen?” Her voice changes, goes high and worried. “Where are you—”
“Calm down. It’s nothing bad.” I clear my throat. “Look, I need a personality swap, ASAP.”
“A what?”
“Your clothes, your car, everything. Will you help me out?”
A long pause. “That depends. How drunk are you this time?”
“Not drunk. I need to spy on my dad.”
“You what?”
“Well, not only on him. But I need to spy on him, and the guys in his warehouse, and…” How much can I tell her? “Hey, did you see anything on the news about Hawk?”
“Tall, blond and mysterious has been quiet lately. No appearances in charity galas, no anger management issues captured by the cameras. Why?”
“Nothing.”
I ponder this.
I mean, I called 9-1-1 the moment I stepped outside the warehouse. Told them Jamie Fleming, heir to the Fleming Empire, was being held hostage in a warehouse.
They told me my prank wasn’t funny.
I insisted. Practically yelled at them that I was telling the truth.
They told me Jamie Fleming hadn’t been reported missing.
I made them call his office.
The office said Mr. Fleming is away on a business trip. And that’s where things stand.
Does Hawk have a twin brother? That could explain it.
Or I’m going crazy.
I could check out his tats. Sure way to tell it’s the guy I’ve been sleeping with. Tattoos of black roses that hide secrets he has only hinted at over the months we’ve been screwing around together. Not to mention if Jamie Hawk Fleming had a brother, I’d know about it. No way can you hide something like that from the press when you’re a millionaire.
“Lay, you there? What’s going on, girlfriend?”
“Please, help me. I will tell you everything tomorrow, okay? Promise, cross my heart and everything.”
A silence. Dorothy’s thinking, and when Dorothy is thinking, it’s serious business.
“No way to change your mind, is there?” she says in the end. “To get you to come up and spill everything. I can see you sitting in your car, you know.”
