21. Twenty-One

21

TWENTY-ONE

“ H ey, Poptart,” Zach trilled as he walked into the penthouse and found me cross-legged on the living room floor. I had papers spread out all around me.

In the month since our camping trip—which had been glorious—we’d fallen into a routine. Actually, we’d fallen into a relationship. It felt real. I was too nervous to ask if it was real, though. I didn’t want to rock the boat and ruin things.

Sometimes, it felt as if I was good at that. Ruining things. This was too important to ruin, because if I pushed him before he was ready, then he would push me too. The only difference was he would be pushing me away. I wasn’t certain how I knew that, but I did.

He wasn’t ready for too much truth. I had to ease him into it.

At least he had stopped calling me Shortypants. He went with a variation of cutesy names now, which didn’t bother me half as much as they probably should have.

“What’s this?” Zach stood over the papers, his brow creasing. “I thought you guys were getting somewhere with the negotiations for the dancers.”

I was still hanging with Halley and the other dancers several times a week. They’d made great progress with the negotiation team that had been put in place. It wasn’t just the bar owners involved. The casino owners were including representatives too. Both sides seemed serious, and I was glad for it. That wasn’t what I was working on, though.

“This is not for the dancers,” I replied as I drew my knees up to my chest and looked around the piles. “This is for you.”

“Me?” His brow furrowed in confusion, and he carefully weaved his way through the piles. Once at my side, he stripped out of his suit coat, threw it on the couch, and then lowered himself so his legs were on either side of me and my back was pressed to his chest. “Hey.” He kissed my neck, sending a shiver through me, then wrapped his arms around me and stared at my piles of paper. “I don’t know what this is, babe,” he said after a beat.

“It’s your department reports,” I replied.

He stilled. “I didn’t realize you were still going through them. I thought you gave up.”

Oh, if only. “I can’t give up.” It was as if he didn’t know me at all. “There’s a mystery here, and it has to be solved.”

“A mystery, huh?” His chuckle was light. “What sort of mystery?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out.” I pointed toward the piles. “Each one of these piles belongs to a different department. I’ve been through the numbers backwards and forwards and they all add up.”

He nodded, allowing me to continue.

“This pile here is the numbers for the entire casino. It’s all the department head numbers and the audit from the accountants. The cover letter you gave me two weeks ago says that everything is copacetic, with money going out to various consulting firms like Infinity Group and Hook Productions.”

“But?” he prodded.

“But it’s not. The numbers don’t add up. I mean … they do. They’ve sent numbers that totally add up.”

“And yet you don’t think they add up,” he said.

“They don’t.” That was the only thing I knew for certain. “The reason I like numbers is because they have to add up. Technically, for show, these add up.”

“And yet they’re wrong,” he said. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

“And yet you know they’re wrong.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t question me. If I said they were wrong, they were wrong. He just believed me because I said it. Finding a solution seemed like the best way to go, and yet he looked overwhelmed at the prospect. “So, what do we do?” he asked finally.

“I keep at it,” was my simple reply.

“You don’t have to,” he argued. “You’re driving yourself crazy with this. My father said he would handle it, and I trust him to handle it. It’s his problem.”

“I know, but here’s a little something you might not know about me,” I said. “I can’t just quit something. If there’s a mystery, I have to solve it.”

“Basically, you’re saying you’re Nancy Drew.”

“Trixie Belden,” I corrected automatically.

He leaned so I could see his face. “I don’t know who that is.”

“She was a detective in a set of books that were very similar to Nancy Drew,” I explained. “They were just lesser known … even though they shouldn’t have been. My mother had a set of the books in the house when I was growing up. She gave them to me because I loved them so much. I’m pretty sure they’re in the stuff you put in storage.”

His hands moved to my shoulders, and he began to rub. “Do you want me to get them for you?”

I laughed. “The books aren’t going to help me solve this. For a time, when I was about eleven or so, I thought I was going to grow up and be a private detective, though. My dad bought me some kit he found, and I walked around looking for fingerprints. I ran out of the powder they sent and started leaving my mom’s flour all over the house.”

“Oh, man. I can see that.”

“I learned at a young age that I can’t ignore a mystery. Now you’ve presented me with this mystery, and I won’t stop until I have answers for you.”

“I don’t want you killing yourself with this. If you can’t do it?—”

I bristled. “Who said I couldn’t do it?” That sounded like a challenge to me.

“Okay, Ms. Determined.” He held up his hands in supplication. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I just have to figure out another way to come at it.” I glared at the piles in turn. “I’m missing something. The answers will be there when I figure out what exactly I’m missing.”

“That seems reasonable enough.” He let loose a sigh. “I would suggest I take you out on the town so you can get a breather for your brain, but your brother surprised me with tickets to a boxing match.” He looked pained. “I wanted to tell him no, but…”

“But Rex won’t understand why you want to tell him no,” I surmised. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. He still doesn’t understand about the camping trip.”

“Yes, well, I feel he doesn’t want to understand.” Zach turned moody. “I mean … it’s right there in front of him. He just doesn’t want to see it.”

I’d come to that conclusion myself. The Rex situation was a whole other hurdle if I wanted this relationship to be real. It was something I couldn’t talk about with Zach, though. At least not yet.

“It’s fine that you’re going out with Rex,” I assured him. “I already have plans anyway.”

“What sort of plans?”

“Oh, don’t do that.” I wagged my finger at him. “I don’t like the sudden alphahole vibe. You’re not the boss of me.”

He caught my finger. “You say that a lot. I’m not trying to be the boss of you. I’m just…” He seemed to catch himself. “What are your plans, wife of mine?” he drawled.

I laughed. “Tallulah.” That was all I had to say.

“Ah. Are you going to the Purple Zebra?”

“No, she’s off and wants to hit a bar. I said no clubs because I want a low-key atmosphere. We’re going to the Cabinet of Curiosities.”

He made a face. “That’s a weird freaking bar.”

“Tallulah says she’s in the mood to pick up a weird dude.”

“Of course she is.” He shook his head. He was serious as he regarded me. “Listen, if Tallulah finds a guy, I want you to contact the limousine stand. I’ll talk to them on my way out. If you need a ride, call them and they’ll pick you up.”

“There’s no way I’m calling for a limo to pick me up.” I vehemently shook my head. “That’s just … too much.”

“Hey.” He refused to allow me to look anywhere but his face. “Promise me. I don’t want you getting stuck with no way home because Tallulah picks up some freak at that place. I need to know that you’re going to be okay. Otherwise, I’m canceling with your brother and going with you.”

“Um … it’s girl’s night. You’re not invited.”

“Then I’ll follow you like a total loser.”

It wasn’t hard to ascertain if he was serious. “Fine.” I blew out a sigh. “I’m going to ruin your next guy’s night with my brother, though. I’m going to follow you to a sports bar and put doilies everywhere.”

“I have no idea what a doily is, but knock yourself out.” He gave me a hard kiss. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” I would follow through because I wasn’t about to lie to him. “However, if I’m going to do this, I think I should be able to earn points with Tallulah in the process.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion lining his features. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, instead of me calling for a limo, what if my husband—my big, strong, handsome husband—were to arrange for a limo to take us there and pick us up? Tallulah will go nuts for a limo.”

He didn’t even think about his answer. “Done.”

“Really?” I went a little giddy. “That’s kind of sweet.”

“It’s only because you called me handsome. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I gripped the front of his shirt as I twisted. “I don’t have to be ready to leave for two hours. Do you want to show me how handsome you are in the bedroom before I have to hit the shower?”

His grin was wolfish. “You read my mind.”

“OH, IT’S GOING TO BE A GOOD NIGHT.”

As predicted, Tallulah had been thrilled when she realized we were taking a limo to our destination. She was dressed to the nines and ready to find someone to spark with. One look at the bar—which had a very specific ambiance—and she was happy with her choice.

“Such a good night,” she reiterated.

All I could do was shake my head. When Tallulah got excited about something, there was no talking her down. “Let’s get a table.” I stopped at the hostess stand. “Two,” I said to her.

She glanced up. “Mrs. Stone, right?” she prodded.

I was caught off guard. “What?”

“She’s Mrs. Stone,” Tallulah confirmed. “Why? Were you expecting a Mrs. Stone?”

“Yes. Mr. Stone called thirty minutes ago and told us to give you the full treatment. We have a table for you in the speakeasy.”

I froze. The speakeasy portion of the bar—which was actually on the other side of a huge bank door—was extremely difficult to get access to. You had to know someone or be high on a casino host’s “get” list to get a table on that side on short notice.

“You have a table in the speakeasy for us?” I asked dumbly.

“Awesome.” Tallulah pumped her fist.

The hostess nodded, as if I was asking a stupid question. “Right this way.” She motioned for us to follow her.

It was like walking into a different world when we crossed the threshold. The bar looked like something out of a western and there was curious art on the wall.

“If you don’t roll Zach for this, I’m going to,” Tallulah warned as we got comfortable at our table.

I slid a glance her way. I hadn’t told her about the sex yet. I wasn’t keeping it from her as much as I was … well, keeping it to myself. At first I wasn’t certain if it would be a one-time thing. Then I wondered if it would last beyond a week. We were over a month now, though, and it obviously wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Now seemed like the time to tell her.

“I’ll probably roll him hard when I get home,” I replied, watching her carefully for her response.

She looked up, her face impassive. “What?”

“I’ll probably roll him,” I repeated. When she didn’t respond, I sighed. “Have sex. We’re going to have sex tonight regardless. We always do. We’ve been having sex for more than five weeks at this point.”

Slowly, a grin spread across her face. “I know. I was just wondering if you would finally admit it. I’ve known almost the whole time, though.”

My mouth fell open. “How can you possibly know?”

Tallulah laughed again. “Girlfriend, you glow.”

Was that her trying to explain something? “I glow?”

“Not like an alien or anything,” she assured me quickly. “Although, that would be cool. You’re just glowing. You smile more often. When you stop in to see me at work, you spend half your time texting. I know you’re sending him dirty texts.”

The server picked that moment to take our orders, so I had to wait to respond.

“I’m going to start with the Bedazzled Skullcap Mojito,” Tallulah said, tapping her bottom lip. “Then, when I’m about halfway done with that, go ahead and bring me the Two Brass Cranes.”

I hadn’t even looked at the menu yet, so I quickly scanned it. “I’ll have the In the Blinker of an Eye to start,” I said. Because Tallulah was watching me expectantly—and we had a driver waiting to get us home—I decided to order my second. “And, like her, when I’m halfway done with this one go ahead and put in a Pink Stone Egg, please.”

“Ooh.” Tallulah nodded in agreement. “You’ll have to tell me how that tastes. I might go that route for my third cocktail.”

“Just how drunk do you plan on getting tonight?” I challenged as the server left us.

“Pretty drunk. I figure you owe me for keeping me in the dark for the past five weeks. I mean … it’s been painful, Livvie. I’m hurt.”

I rolled my eyes despite the guilt flooding me. “You’re too much sometimes,” I complained. “You know that, right?”

She was over letting me drag things out. “Talk.”

I did. I told her everything. It took longer than I thought. We were halfway through our second drinks and rounding around to our third when I finally finished.

“You’re falling in love with him,” she said when I was done.

“I am not,” I scoffed. “It’s just a fling.”

“Most flings don’t involve marriage.”

“Yes, but we’re not going to stay married.” That used to be a given I realized. Now I wasn’t so certain.

“Do you want to place a wager?” Tallulah’s eyebrows wiggled as she sipped her drink.

“He hasn’t said anything about wanting to make this arrangement more permanent,” I hedged.

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Told him that you want to make the arrangement permanent.”

“I don’t know that I do.”

She took another sip and waited me out.

“Fine.” I exhaled heavily. “I wouldn’t mind committing a little bit more. I mean … it’s hard to date when we’re already married, but I might be open for that.”

“That sounds weird but doable,” Tallulah encouraged. “Tell him you want that.”

“And what happens if he doesn’t want that?”

“He’ll tell you.”

“But then things will get weird. I mean … if I make him uncomfortable, the sex will fly right out the window. Then we’ll be two roommates who live under one awkward roof, and I’ll want to die of embarrassment.”

“Geez. You’re so sensitive about that stuff.” She shook her head. “Livvie, nobody dies of embarrassment.”’

“You sound like my mother,” I groused.

“Well, it’s true. I think telling him is the way to go. Living in limbo is going to make you crazy.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “Losing him will make me crazier, though. Isn’t it smarter to let things percolate longer and then tell him?”

“What if he feels the same way you do?” she challenged. “You guys could be building a foundation that’s meant to last right now. Isn’t it possible he’s thinking the same things you are?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said finally. It didn’t even feel like a leap to say it. “I do think it’s possible. He’s in a weird place right now, though. He wants to take over the casino from his father, but he also wants to be more than he thinks his father is capable of. That’s a lot to deal with. I’m not sure adding more is going to be good for either of us.”

“Because you think he’ll break under the pressure?”

I hesitated before answering. “Because I think sometimes people do have a breaking point,” I said finally. “I want him to have the time he needs to wrap his head around things. The whole reason he wanted to get married was to buy himself breathing room, right? How can I suck all the oxygen out of his lungs by telling him I want to give this a real try when he’s just finding his footing?”

“You bring up a good point.” Tallulah made a face and sipped her cocktail. “Here’s the thing, though,” she said as she lowered her glass. “He could be feeling pressure because you guys feel the same way but neither of you can admit it. You might be easing his burden to tell him.”

“Or I might not.”

Tallulah narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just afraid to tell him? I mean … that does sound like something you would do. You’ve always built him up to be this otherworldly presence in your life. He’s just a man.”

Deep down, I knew that. He felt like more, though. “I just want to give him some time. In another month, I’ll ascertain where we’re at, and I’ll go from there.”

Tallulah’s sigh was very Gossip Girl . The first one, not the reboot. “Fine. At least you guys are stuck with each other for another ten months. Even you two can’t screw it up when you have such a long timetable to deal with.”

I glowered at her. “We’re not going to screw it up.”

She lifted her cocktail in a sarcastic toast. “Here’s hoping.”

Here’s hoping indeed, I silently agreed.