The Price Of Scandal(17)

She steadied herself on the granite of the island and slipped her feet into them. I guessed the designer would sell out by tomorrow.

“Very nice. You don’t look at all like a drug addict.”

“Your approval means the world to me,” she said dryly.

In response, I took the end of the belt and fed it through the first loop at her waist. Emily slapped my hands away and took over the task.

“I can’t believe I’m listening to you,” she muttered.

“Trust me, love. I won’t lead you astray.” I shoved my fingers into her hair and ruffled the honey blonde tresses.

She batted at my hands and nearly fell into her collection of trousers. “What are you doing?”

I flipped her hair over in a messy side part. “Perfect.”

“I thought that was the problem,” Emily said snidely, securing her belt with a violent tug.

“Come on. We’re late,” I said, brushing past her.

“You are infuriating! I am going to murder you and have Jane feed your body to Steve!”

I led the way out of her bedroom, noting the massive bed was precisely made.

“Steve?” I was intrigued.

“It’s better you don’t know,” Jane piped up from the kitchen where she was checking the locks on the terrace doors. The entire house offered a panoramic view of blue water.

“Let’s go, ladies. We have minds to change today.”

“I don’t see why you need to drive us to work,” Emily complained as I half shoved her into the passenger seat of the Escalade.

“You’re not very friendly in the mornings, are you?” I teased.

“She needs caffeine for polite. Sugar and carbs if you want friendly,” Jane piped up from the back seat.

“I can make that happen,” I promised. I might be charmingly underhanded when the occasion called for it, but I didn’t break my promises.





9





Emily





Derek maneuvered through Bluewater like he was intimately familiar with my community. I didn’t like it. He snuck down Tequila Lane and cut across Tiki Bar Drive like he’d been born avoiding the early morning tai chi golf cart and foot traffic jam.

“Nice cock,” he noted when we passed the eight-foot-tall hand-carved rooster near the gate.

“Huh. I was just thinking the same thing,” Jane mused from the back seat.

Ha ha. So funny. Hilarious. I crossed my arms over my chest and made a mental list of all the ways I could dispose of Derek’s body.

A crisis management firm? I didn’t like it. And I really didn’t like anything about Derek Price. He was high-handed. Condescending. Take charge.

Sure. Some women liked that.

Some women would probably like the naked trespassing, too.

But I wasn’t some women. I was Emily gosh darn Stanton, and I was hanging on by my fingernails.

Shit. I needed to schedule a manicure.

I keyed in the note to my phone as we cruised through Bluewater.

My home along with my cohorts’ houses were tucked away on the very tip of the enclave accessed by a small bridge. A pretty lagoon divided our cul de sac from the rest of the community. It offered the seclusion I’d wanted, though Cam was our mini-neighborhood busybody. She kept tabs on all our comings and goings. An orphan herself, she’d adopted the rest of us as family and fussed over us like a mother hen.

On cue, my phone vibrated in my purse.

I fished it out.

Cam: Who’s the GQ eye candy?





I did a mental eye roll.

Me: Just the guy who broke into my house and got naked last night. Long story.





Four seconds later, I had question mark texts from Luna and Daisy in a group message.

Me: Guys, it’s a long story, and I’m hoping to get rid of him today.





Cam: I ran an image search. That hunk of pheromones is The Derek Price.





Daisy: You hired him! I’m so proud. I was going to gift him to you, but I know how you feel about people being up in your business.





Luna: Wait. Emily hired a prostitute?





Daisy: Business. Not “bis-natch.” He’s a crisis management specialist and a damn good one, too. He shines up the tarnished. I used him after the shoplifting debacle of 2016.





Cam: I’m running through his website and social media presences. Seems legit. And also very very gorgeous. Like carved by angels out of heavenly marble gorgeous. Question: is it legal for human beings to be that attractive?





I rolled my eyes. Since when did legit mean a naked meet and greet after breaking and entering?

My board had saddled me with a criminal to keep me from being labeled as one.

I shot a glance at Derek and his “heavenly” profile. Damn it. Okay. I could admit that he was attractive. Handsome even. He had those slight hollows under his cheekbones that made him look pensive and angular. His jaw was sharp and lightly shadowed in stubble like he was too careless to worry about shaving regularly. Behind his sunglasses I knew were heavily lashed eyes bluer than Biscayne Bay. The scar under his eye was acceptable. The dimple… not revolting.