“Cut the crap. I get it. This is my punishment for your getting me out of that ticket. Fine. I’ll leave you alone so you can play detective. I won’t say another word about your lack of skills. Just give me the rest of the information in those e-mails.”
I pick up a pen and tap it against my desk. While the idea of his leaving me alone actually has some merit, that’s not what this is all about. I want him to eat his words. I can do this job.
“You avoided thirty days in jail and didn’t lose your license because of me,” I remind him.
“Yeah, well, I still had to pay a two-thousand-dollar fine,” he complains.
I grind my teeth. “It was supposed to be four thousand dollars. I’m going to need a little more than just your turning the other cheek while I ‘play detective.’”
I hear him growl into the phone. “Fine. What do you want?”
Kennedy starts waving her hands in the air frantically.
“Could you hold, please?” I press my palm against the mouthpiece and hold the phone away from me.
“What?” I hiss at her.
“Tell him he’s an asshole and you deserve some fucking respect!” Kennedy shouts.
Shaking my head at her, I pull my hand away from the mouthpiece and press the phone back against my ear.
“Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yes. Well, I’ve decided that you and I will start working together to solve this case and when I find out who did it, you can just give me your fee from the police department,” I inform him.
He barks out a laugh. “When hell freezes over.”
I smile to myself. “Bundle up. We’ll get together this weekend to go over the rest of the information in those e-mails. Have a nice day!”
Ending the call without letting him say another word, I sit there for a few minutes and stare at my phone.
“I still think you should have called him an asshole, but you did good,” Kennedy tells me.
“So, when are you going to meet up with him? Do I get to dress you again?” Paige asks excitedly.
“I have dinner at my parents’ house on Friday night, so it will have to be after that,” I remind them.
Everyone is silent for a few minutes. They know this is the weekend I planned on telling them about my job here and how I wasn’t sure if being a lawyer was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
“Well, then, I think you should definitely let Paige dress you,” Kennedy informs me.
Paige jumps up from her chair and practically bounces over to us. “We can find something totally hot and badass for Lorelei and we can get your outfits for your romantic engagement weekend with Griffin while we’re at it!”
Kennedy groans. “Do I really still have to buy new clothes for this?”
I gather my things. “Remember how you said you’d owe me one for being Dallas’s lawyer? You’ll go shopping with Paige and me and not say one single word. We get to dress you any way we see fit and you can’t complain.”
“Ooooh, you’ll be like our own personal Barbie,” Paige tells her with a laugh.
“You did NOT just say that to me.”
As we walk out of the office, I ignore Paige and Kennedy as they bicker back and forth. A few hours of shopping might be just what I need to get my mind off of the coming weekend. I’m going to drop a huge bomb on my parents and then try to work with Dallas. Both events could be equally explosive.
CHAPTER 10
My parents live in Hamilton County. It’s about an hour-and-a-half drive from my home so I have plenty of time to think about what I’m going to say to them. And plenty of time to rethink the outfit Paige made me buy on our shopping trip.
As I pull up the drive to their palatial brick home, I take a deep breath before getting out of my car. I seriously consider getting back inside and driving to the nearest Neiman Marcus to buy a suit. It’s not that I’m dressed unpleasantly; it’s just that I’m not dressed for dinner with my parents. My mother will undoubtedly have on a dress and pearls and my father will be wearing one of his usual black suits.
Staring down at myself, I know that what I’m wearing is perfectly fine: a pair of black leggings with brown, knee-high slouch boots, a tan-and-black-striped long-sleeved shirt, and a black infinity scarf. As soon as Paige picked out this outfit I knew I had to have it. It may seem like everyday wear for some, but it’s not something I have ever worn and I love it. My parents will definitely hate it.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I think about all of the reasons I want to be a private investigator. I think about how happy it makes me and how overjoyed I am that for the first time in my life, I look forward to waking up in the morning, knowing I’m going to do something exciting. I play these points on a continuous loop in my head as I walk toward the front door.
The rumbling of a car engine in the drive gives me pause. I turn to see a familiar black Mustang pull up behind my car and dread pools in my stomach.
I watch in horror as Dallas gets out of the car and saunters over to me. Even in my moment of despair I don’t miss the way he takes me in from head to toe. I have an unnatural urge to touch my wavy hair, which Paige carefully sprayed into place, to make sure it still looks good.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice,” he says with a lopsided smile.
“What are you doing here?” I respond, whipping my head around to the front door to make sure my parents aren’t standing there. If I’m lucky, they didn’t hear the reverberation of his muffler coming up the drive and have no idea I’m here yet.
“I’m sorry; I thought you said we would be working together now,” he tells me casually as he slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I swung by your place so we could have ourselves a little meeting, and when I saw you pulling out, I figured I’d follow you. I’m guessing you just failed to mention to me that you’d be meeting with Miles Harper tonight.”
Oh, my God, this is not happening right now. Of all the times for him to be pompous and cocky . . .
“I can see by the shocked expression on your face that you didn’t think I’d find out about Miles. Nice work blacking out his name on the e-mails, by the way, but I was able to figure out that information all on my own.”
Maybe if I jump in my car right now, I can just tell my parents I had a flat tire and won’t be able to make it to dinner.
“I didn’t feel like wasting my time looking up his address. Figured you could handle that for me and I could just follow you.” Dallas whistles appreciatively as he looks at the front of my parents’ home. “No wonder you’re a lawyer. Must be a pretty nice paycheck.”
Perfect. And now he thinks the only reason I’m a lawyer is because it pays well. Won’t he be surprised when he finds out I was bred for this job and further manipulated into it with years of guilt?
Wait, what am I saying? He’s not going to find that out because he needs to leave right now. I need to get him away from here before they see him.
“This isn’t Miles Harper’s home; it’s where my parents live! I’m here for dinner with them, not going behind your back to meet with Miles,” I tell him, throwing my arms up in irritation.
I leave out the part about how I was fully planning on finding Miles after dinner. I’m too livid at his audacity right now to deal with semantics.
“Lorelei, what on earth are you doing standing out in the driveway? Mrs. Cooper has already set out the first course.”
I freeze at the sound of my mother’s voice.
“I wish you would have told me you were bringing a guest,” she complains.
I watch her turn in the entryway, rushing back into the house, and know she’s left to complain to my father about having to set an extra place, even if she hasn’t set a table herself my entire life.
“Well, honey, what’s for dinner?” Dallas says with a smile as he brushes past me and heads into the house.
“So, Mr. Osborne, how did you meet Lorelei?”
I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth and try not to let the ap
prehension I’m feeling show. This is not how I wanted this evening to go. I was supposed to have a nice, quiet evening with my parents and then sit them down after dinner and calmly tell them my dreams for the future have changed.
Now, I’m stuck sitting across the table from Dallas.
“Well, sir, we work—”
My fork clatters onto the plate and I quickly interrupt him. “Actually, Dad, it’s nothing too exciting. We met at the courthouse.”
Dallas looks at me questioningly and I try to tell him with my eyes to please keep quiet and not ruin things for me.
“Lorelei, elbows off the table, please,” my father reprimands.
I do as he asks and squeeze my hands together in my lap.
“So, you’re an attorney then?” my father continues.
I watch as he stares at the tattoos on Dallas’s arms peeking out from the edge of his T-shirt. It’s obvious my father is judging him and it raises my hackles.
“Uh, no. I’m not an attorney. I own my own private investigation firm, and lately I’ve been working as a part-time detective with the South Bend police department,” Dallas informs him.
He pushes his sleeves up higher on his arms and then crosses his arms in front of him. It’s almost like he’s daring my father to ask him about the tattoos.
“Lorelei, your hair is atrocious. Are you going through some sort of phase?” my mother asks, just to switch things up.
I grind my teeth together and pick up my fork. “No, I just thought I’d try something new.”
Five minutes in this home and I already feel my determination fading.
My father digs the knife in a little deeper. “I played golf with Steve Burdick the other day. He said you’ve postponed a meeting with him three times in the last two weeks. That’s not very professional, Lorelei. How do you expect to make partner with behavior like that?”
Steve Burdick is a partner at my firm and I know exactly why he wants to meet with me. I know he’s going to offer me the partner position, and right now, I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to turn it down. I keep hoping the longer I put it off, the more confidence I’ll gain being a private investigator and it will make the decision easy.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been very busy. I’ll call him first thing Monday morning,” I tell my father.
My eyes meet Dallas’s across the table. He’s uncrossed his arms and now has his fists resting on the table, clenching and unclenching them like he’s mad about something. He stares at me with his brow furrowed.
I pull my gaze away when my father speaks again. “Yes, make sure you do that. It’s uncomfortable for me when I run into colleagues and have to make excuses for you.”
I can feel my face heating up with embarrassment. It’s bad enough that I have to suffer through these types of conversations every time I’m with my parents, but it’s a million times worse now that Dallas is here witnessing my humiliation.
“Mr. Warner, I’m sure you’re already aware of this, but your daughter is amazing at her job. I’ve seen her in action,” Dallas informs him.
My father wipes the corner of his mouth with his napkin and sets it on the table. I watch in fascination as Dallas goes about eating, not even realizing that my father is glaring at him.
“Yes, well, we’ve made sure she’s kept on the right track. As long as she doesn’t make any more foolish mistakes her future will be set.”
Dallas snorts and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry; is there something you’d like to say?” my father asks him.
Any other man would cave before my father, but not Dallas. If anything, he sits up taller and makes sure to smirk at my mother as he places both of his elbows on the table.
“Oh, there are a lot of things I’d like to say, but they probably aren’t appropriate for dinner conversation. Your daughter doesn’t make foolish mistakes. If anything, she’s too perfect. She’s smart and she’s a hard worker. As her parent, that should be something to be proud of.”
I can’t hide the shock from my face at the words that leave Dallas’s mouth. Is he actually sticking up for me? And why does this make me so happy and angry all at the same time? I should be sticking up for myself. But just like any other time I’m around my parents, I feel like nothing I say matters.
“Of course we’re proud of her. We just want to make sure she’s making smart choices in her life. The way she’s dressing and her careless attitude at work worries us that she’s being influenced,” my father replies, looking pointedly at Dallas and his tattoos.
Dallas stares him down and my father actually has the intelligence to look away. Unfortunately, my mother decides it’s time to rejoin the conversation.
“Have you spoken to Doug lately? How is he?”
I shouldn’t be shocked that she’s bringing Doug up. She does it every time we speak. But doing it in front of Dallas is a new low even for her. It’s not every day I bring a man to dinner. Obviously they must suspect we’re dating, even if it’s the furthest thing from the truth. In her mind, there’s nothing wrong with speaking of her daughter’s ex right in front of another man. And now Dallas gets to add one more thing to his long list of inadequacies about me.
“He’s fine, Mother. How are the plans coming along for the Make-A-Wish event next month?” I ask, hoping that she’ll get the hint and change the subject.
She doesn’t. “I just don’t understand why the two of you couldn’t work things out. You were so happy and you had a wonderful life together. Your father and I have had our differences, but we’ve always managed to work them out.”
She looks at me. Like it’s my fault because I didn’t try hard enough. I’ve heard this same speech so many times I could recite it by heart.
“How exactly would you suggest I work out the tiny little problem of him being gay? Marriage counseling? An intervention?”
Dallas snorts and at first, I assume he’s laughing at me. When I look over at him, though, he’s giving me a look of encouragement.
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Lorelei,” my father scolds. “You just didn’t spend enough time taking care of him. A wife should always put her husband first.”
Dallas can see the wounded look come across my face and once again, he tries to come to my rescue.
“If you ask me, this Doug person is the one who screwed up. Any man would be lucky to have Lorelei as his wife.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as I stare at him across the table. He winks at me and smiles.
My father, of course, can’t leave it alone. He has to add his two cents. “Well, we didn’t ask you, young man. Someone such as you wouldn’t understand the importance of a person’s standing in the community. Lorelei has a reputation to uphold and we just want to be certain she remembers that. Doug was a good catch. He had a respectable job with the clerk of courts and would have never thought that coming to dinner in jeans and a T-shirt was appropriate.”
I’ve officially had enough.
Throwing my napkin down on the table, I stand abruptly, my chair scraping across the hardwood floor of the dining room. It’s one thing when they insult me, but I won’t allow them to look down on Dallas. They don’t even know him. It strikes me that I really don’t know him either, but that’s beside the point. He tried to stick up for me and now it’s my turn.
“Lorelei, sit down. We aren’t finished with dinner,” my father says in exasperation.
“Well, I’m finished. I’ve lost my appetite.”
I see Dallas staring at me. His eyes are soft and encouraging. I can practically feel his strength floating across the table and wrapping itself around me.
I glare at my father. “I’m not a good enough lawyer because I don’t work as hard as you’d like and I wasn’t a good wife because I worked too much. It’s never enough for you. And believe me, it’s impossible to forget all the responsibilities you’ve strapped me with. You remind me every single day that I’m not living up to your expectations. I come here tonight wearing
something other than a perfectly pressed suit and you immediately assume I’ve gone to the dark side. You can berate me all you want, but don’t you dare look down on him,” I fire back, pointing at Dallas. “You think he’s a negative influence? Why? Because he doesn’t fit in your perfect mold and he has tattoos? Well guess what? I have a fucking tattoo and I HATE being a Goddamn lawyer.”
My mother gasps, but I ignore her. I’m on a roll.
“I’ve missed all those meetings with Steve because I’m part owner of a private investigation company and I love it. I don’t want to spend my days in three-piece suits, kissing everyone’s ass just so I can get ahead. First thing Monday morning I’m walking into Steve’s office and telling him he can shove his partnership right up his fucking ass.”
And with that, I storm out, making sure to let the door slam behind me because I know my father hates it.
CHAPTER 11
Pacing back and forth in the driveway, I can hardly believe what just happened. Did I really tell my father off? Too bad Kennedy wasn’t here to see it. I feel like she would be extremely proud.
I hear the door open behind me and figure it’s my mother coming outside to tell me how appalling my behavior was. When I see Dallas charging down the steps toward me, my heart starts thumping wildly in my chest. I’m sure he’s coming out here to make fun of me and my terrible family.
“Look, I’m not really in the mood for you to—”
My words are cut off as he grabs my face with his hands and crushes his lips to mine. Dallas Osborne is a force of nature. He’s hard around the edges, crass, and full of attitude. His kiss matches his personality: It’s rough and all consuming.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
His tongue immediately pushes past my lips and he backs me up against the hood of my car. I moan into his mouth and grab fistfuls of his hair in my hands, holding him close and letting him plunge his tongue deeper. He keeps one hand on my face and slides the other down the side of my body, cupping my ass in his hand and pulling me against him.