My sit down with the Smith's lasted about two hours. I asked a lot of questions and really pounded them hard for answers. They told me what they could about Ivy's mystery man, but nothing grabbed my attention right away.
When I left, I was a wreck. I felt guilty, sad. Angry. It was still pretty early in the evening, so instead of going home to wallow in my emotions, I called Bentley. To my surprise, he answered my call on the first ring. I was sure that a busy man like him would be on a flight for a one-day business trip. But he was waiting on me to call.
"I'm surprised you called," he said.
"Yeah, so am I, actually." I wanted to be light and airy, but I felt weighed down and full of grief. "I'm on my way to the mall, if you wanna meet me there. I don't know exactly what we're meeting for if you can't help with Ivy's case, but that's where I'll be."
"Say less. I'll meet you there."
What am I doing? I questioned. This is a dangerous man. Handsome, yeah. But still dangerous. I don't even know if he's innocent of this, and I'm finding myself intrigued by him.
The guilt weighed in even more. Ivy was dead, and while investigating her case, I was being reeled in by a man who was a possible suspect. His lure was powerful. His charm was exquisite, and I was his muse. I reminded myself over and over again that our interaction was strictly for the sake of Ivy's story, but the more I saw of him, the more I got sucked in.
When I got to the large shopping mall in our city, I waited at the entrance for him to show up. His driver pulled to the entrance not long after and opened his door for him as if he were a king granted the fullest extent of luxury. Bentley stepped out of the SUV and patted the driver's shoulder while eyeballing me, and I stood silently melting, anticipating being taken for a joyride.
"Mm, still as beautiful as I remember from last night," he said as he approached me. "How are you?"
"I'm fine." I blushed and looked down at my feet. "How are you?"
"Seeing you, my day just got a little better."
The way he looked at me made my heart skip a beat. I was thrilled by his confidence and by the possible danger that lied beneath his surface. Something told me the mall wasn't really his cup of tea, but if it meant he got to spend time with me, he didn't complain.
We got all sorts of stares and snickers as we passed each store. I wondered what people thought of me being with him. Bentley could have cared less about what anyone thought. I think he got off by seeing people intimidated by his presence.
"You would think you killed a man. Or woman," I said. "Everyone's looking at you like you're some kind of monster."
"I'm used to it by now," he chuckled.
"Why? If you're a changed man, wouldn't you want people to see that instead of what they know of your past?"
He shrugged, not really wanting to discuss it. But I, being the pushy snooper that I am, urged him on. I wanted to get a feel for what his deepest thoughts and concerns were when it came to society. That way I knew where to place him on the suspect list.
"I thought we came to shop," he said. "I already told you what I know about what's happening now. My past is something I've moved on from, so I don't really dwell on how other people feel about it. They're entitled to their own opinions."
I smiled, then turned away so he couldn't see the depth of it. It was rare that I met a man who was intelligent enough to keep me interested. The truth is, the way he answered my questions turned me on.
"We should really be at a boutique," he said. "I don't think the mall has anything to suit a woman as fine as you are."
"A boutique!?" I laughed. "You're the billionaire, not me. I shop where I can afford to. And hey! I find some cute things. I don't have to wear a thousand-dollar dress to look good."
I made him laugh. I could tell he was a humble man, but his taste was very expensive. And given his answer, he didn't mind spending money on things that mattered to him.
"You're right," he said. "I'm the billionaire, so what I say goes. And I say we get out of here. Whatever you want, it's on me. It's the least I can do to pay my dues for your friend."
"Whatever you're paying should really go to her parents," I lectured. "I'm not the one in need here."
"Hey," he finger gently brushed my chin as he stared directly into my eyes. "I already have my people on it. Whatever her family needs is already being taken care of. Right now, let's take care of you."
I felt like a schoolgirl as he led me out of the mall and into the backseat of his luxury SUV. I had broken my own code of honor: never be alone with a possible suspect. But for some reason, I felt completely safe with him. I felt sexy and wined and dined, though we hadn't dined yet.
Bentley exuded so much class and wealth that it was easy for me to be caught in his web. His capture was mysterious and suspenseful, but I found myself craving the moment I was tangled in his hub.
"I take it you and Ivy were good friends?" he asked.
"Something like that." I kept my eyes ahead and my senses alert. "We grew up together. You know how those kinds of friendships are. One day you're as thick as thieves. Then one day, not so much."
When I looked in his direction, he was nodding, almost as if he had gone through something similar. Some of the rumors said that he was born into a family who had strict mafia ties, and looking at him, I believed it. No matter how charming, handsome, and down to earth he was, there was something about him that confirmed the speculations.
We ended up going to Legrand, one of the most upscale designer malls in Westlake. I had never been shopping at Legrand. I'd only driven by and wished that I could afford to shop there. My surprise must have been written all over my face because before we exited the vehicle, Bentley asked if I had ever been.
"In my dreams, yeah," I chuckled. "I'd have to become anchor at the biggest news station known to man to be able to afford anything here."
Shit! I thought. Now he knows I'm not just Ivy's friend, but I'm also a reporter. I wanted to keep my ties to anything newsworthy hidden because I needed to present as a regular. I didn't want Bentley getting suspicious of me and cutting our interaction short. I was also intrigued by him in a way I couldn't explain, so I wanted to stick around for as long as I could to figure it out.
"Well, don't worry," he said before getting out to open my door. "Today is all on me. And if you stick with me long enough, it could be the same way every day."
I blushed while I waited to see him on the other side of my door, though I was angry at myself for leaning in to his sweet little nothings because Ivy should have been all I thought about. She was the reason I played the dangerous game of getting to know him, and I had to force myself to remember that.
"Before we take another step, I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown envelope. "That SD card. I brought it, just in case you changed your mind about the party."
"How sweet," I said. "Thank you. This could really help get her parents some closure."
"No problem."
His brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight as he looked into mine, and for a brief moment, I saw something innocent in him. It was easy to get lost in his glare. He had the most deep and sensual expression on his face; I had a hard time looking away. When he smiled and grabbed me by the hand to pull me along, I couldn't help but melt under the feeling of his touch.
As we walked around, shopping for more than what I had in mind, Bentley talked about nothing and everything at the same time. We didn't talk about Ivy much, but that was okay with me. I wanted to get on his good side before I bombarded him with questions about his possible ties to her murder.
By the end of our spree, I had about ten bags full of designer dresses, heels, and jewelry that I normally wouldn't wear. Bentley had kissed me on the cheek, snapped a few photos of us, and told me it was the most fun he'd had in a while. I wasn't sure if he was just buttering me up because it was what he did with every woman he met. Or if he was being genuine. Everything moved so fast and felt so natural, it was hard to tell.
It was after dark when he got me back to my car. My feet were tired, and I was ready for a long, hot shower. He wanted to have dinner and spend more time talking about our lives, but I was ready to call it a night. Because even though I had fun with him, I didn't want to have too much fun.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "It's been a long day, and I have to try on all these dresses to figure out which one I'm gonna wear to the party."
"Ahh, that's right. Women need at least twenty-four hours to get ready for anything. I dig it."
"Whatever," I laughed. "Thanks for today. I guess I can text you and let you know I made it home safe."
The day I spent with the notorious gangster wasn't classified as a date, but for some reason, I felt like it was. I laughed and blushed and talked about things other than work. I really enjoyed myself, and for the first time in a long time, it felt good to spend time with a real man. So much so, I think I smiled my entire drive home.
I was surprised to see Rodger's car in my driveway when I pulled in. He was leaning against his trunk, smoking a cigarette, seemingly waiting for me to get there. It was odd because Rodger never came to my place unannounced, and surely not after dark.
"Hey Rodger, is everything okay?" I gave him a peculiar look as I approached.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to come over and check on you. I tried calling you a few times earlier, and after what happened to Ivy, I guess I'm on edge." He tossed his cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it. "Where were you?"
The look in his eyes that night made me uneasy, but I brushed it off. Tensions were high for everyone in Westlake after what happened to Ivy, so I figured he was just trying to be a good friend.
"I understand." I smiled softly and leaned against his trunk too. "I went shopping with Bentley. Got some pretty nice things too. It makes me mad with myself because of Ivy, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
"Shopping?" Rodger's tone was ice cold. "I guess you're still going to that party with him, huh?"
"I am." I answered aggressively. "I'm a big girl, Rodger. I can handle myself."
"Well, I don't know what else to say other than be careful. I've already warned you once."