Red Roses in Las Vegas (15 page)

Nanna was up by the time I got home. She was taking some greenish things out of the fridge and, when I walked in, she placed them on the countertop and said, “You’re a little late.” She peered at me carefully. “And you look funny. What’s up? Did something happen at the tables?”

I shook my head, no. “I had breakfast with Jack. And he’s taking me to a charity gala thing tonight – I can meet all those women there.”

Nanna’s face lit up in delight. “That’s wonderful! What time are you going? Do you have anything to wear? He seems like a persistent young man.”

She looked ridiculously pleased, and I could tell that it wasn’t just because I’d wrangled an invite to the gala. Before I could reply, Nanna said, “You know, when you said he’d taken you to an office for a date, I wondered what was wrong with him. But he’s obviously interested in you, so at least he’s got good taste.”

“Thanks, Na–”

“But how’d he get an invite to one of those charity things?” She looked at me closely. “He’s not rich is he? That’s it! He’s
rich.
Is he? Or maybe he’s one of those politician types, really powerful and knows people and stuff.”

It was great to see Nanna revert to her usual self again, and I smiled happily. Of course, any minute now, she’d start to give me relationship advice – the kind of advice you don’t really want to hear from your nanna. I braced myself cheerfully for what was about to come.

“But just because he’s interested in you doesn’t mean he’ll stay interested,” Nanna said, just as I knew she would. “You’ve got to keep him interested. What’re you wearing tonight?”

She paused for a breath, finally, and I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet. I thought I’d have a nap, first.”

“Of course!” She nodded vigorously, and the worried look began to creep back into her eyes. “You’ll need to keep your strength up for tonight. Hopefully those women will be there.”

“Even if they’re not, I’ll find them,” I said, smiling brightly.

“Of course,” she said, and started to unwrap the greenish foods, her shoulders slumped once again. “I’ll warn Ian not to annoy you, so you can get some rest.”

I headed towards the bathroom, the muted drone of a neighbor’s TV filtering in through the walls. The transformation in Nanna’s moods was stark and horrific; I wished I could bring back the sparkle in her eyes.

I knew what I had to do. I had to bring my A-game tonight, I had to wrangle the truth out of those four women. At least one of them knew something about Adam Bitzer’s death. 

I slept past noon. When I woke, the light outside was harsh and I could just about feel the dry Vegas heat trying to beat its way into my tiny condo. Nanna wasn’t there, but she’d left a note informing me that she was at Glenn and Karma’s, and that there was a mushroom risotto on the countertop and some salad in the fridge.

I ate my lunch slowly and, once I was done, I went through my wardrobe. Like Cinderella, I had nothing to wear. Unlike her, I had no fairy godmother, so I settled on my one good cocktail dress – a green, just-above-knee-length number that would have to do. The rich, gala-going crowd hopefully wouldn’t realize that I’d bought it on sale from the Dolce & Gabbana factory outlet. With any luck, they’d just assume it was a last-last-season outfit from one of those French designers with unpronounceable names and unaffordable dresses.

As I inspected the dress, I discovered a tiny pull just above the front of the left knee, and a tiny stain just above the hem at the back. Hopefully, nobody else would notice, but I knew that this dress only had a couple more wears left in it. After that, I’d have to shell out for another nice dress. Or two. Or three, if I kept going out with Jack.

Jack was wonderful, but if things went well, he’d want to take me out on “real” dates to over-priced restaurants I wouldn’t otherwise go to. And if things went extremely well, he’d want to introduce me to his friends and maybe even to his sister, who lived in New York. All of that involved “fitting in,” a concept which I wasn’t entirely sure I could pull off, especially with Jack’s crowd.

I lay the dress out on my bed, found strappy open-toed stilettos and dangling earrings I could wear with it, and checked the time. I had a couple of hours before I needed to start transforming myself into a party-goer, so I grabbed two empty plastic food boxes from the pantry and stepped outside.

I’d just taken three steps towards the elevator, when Ian materialized beside me.

“Hey, where’re you going?” he said. “Your nanna told me you were sleeping off a long night, I guess you just got up, huh? You look like you just got up.” He got into the elevator with me and watched as I pressed the number for Glenn’s floor. “You’re going to Glenn’s, right? Those food boxes are his? Man, you must go through a lot of those cupcakes. I hope Karma’s not making him bake with those woo-woo ingredients, again.”

We’d reached Glenn’s apartment by now, and I rapped loudly. The door was opened within two seconds by Karma. Today, she was wearing a knee-length dress with a jagged hem. It was bright orange print, and the color matched the large, orange feathered earrings she wore.

“Tiffany!” she exclaimed, embracing me in a hug, and then turning to Ian for another hug. “And Ian! Your nanna said you’d stop by, and it’s wonderful to see you both. I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while. Your nanna and I have become quite good friends.”

Nanna was sitting on the couch, sipping tea with Glenn. I could see a third mug on the coffee table, and I assumed it was Karma’s.

“These are your boxes,” I told Glenn. “Sorry I’m late in returning them. I meant to bake you something and then return the boxes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glenn said. “Your nanna’s told us how busy you’ve been, trying to find out who the real killer is.”

I shrugged modestly, and stole a glance at Nanna. She seemed to be in a relatively good mood, and I was glad that Glenn and Karma seemed to be good company for her.

“Have you picked out the dress for tonight?” Karma said.

Nanna said, “Yes. If you don’t have a dress, we can go shopping for one. Karma knows a nice store downtown.”

“They’re cheaper than the department stores,” Karma said. “And it’s pretty good quality stuff, too.”

“I’ll get you two some tea,” Glenn said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Nanna turned to Karma and said, “Are the dresses sexy enough, though? Tiffany keeps wearing all these shapeless things. Now that she’s got a man, she should learn to dress right. Maybe wear something tight, or short, or low-cut.”

Ian snorted, as though the idea of me wearing something sexy was an alien concept and I turned to Nanna and frowned in what I hoped was a warning manner.

“What?” she said. “It’s not right to be frumpy when you’ve just started dating someone. Later, maybe. You can wear your ugly tops and go without makeup. But you need to… you know… add some
oomph
.”

“Add some oomph?”

“Yes. And you need some sexy lingerie. I’ve read all the dating advice.” Nanna nodded wisely. “They all say to wear sexy underwear beneath your clothes. That way, you feel sexy. It comes from under the clothes, but it shows through, like one of those mutant superhero glows.”

I groaned.

“What?” Nanna said. “If you don’t have anything sexy, we can go shopping now. We’ve got enough time.”

“I’m not going shopping,” I told Nanna, just as Glenn came back with two cups of tea.

“What’s this party?” Ian said. “Can I go with you?”

“No,” I said, trying to keep my annoyance in check. “You can’t. Jack’s taking me.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about Jack,” said Karma. “Your nanna says he’s a new man in your life.” She gave me a broad wink. “Tell us all about him.”

I took a sip of the tea. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, come on,” said Nanna. “We want to hear about him.”

“What about Stone?” asked Glenn. “I always liked him.”

“Stone and I are just friends,” I said.

“Jack’s pretty cool,” Ian volunteered, and I glared at him. I would’ve loved to have given him a discreet kick on the ankle, but he was sitting too far away from me and went on, oblivious to my glare. “He owns part of The Tremonte Casino and he owns a bunch of other stuff, too.”

“What does he look like?” Karma asked.

Ian shrugged. “Tall, green eyes, wears a lot of suits.”

“Green eyes!” Karma turned to me in delight. “Didn’t I predict that you’d wind up with a green-eyed man?”

I took a deep breath. “You did say that a few weeks ago. But we’re not quite together, yet. We’ve just started dating.”

She spread her arms out wide. “Well, I can’t see more than that. Where you take it is up to you.”

“How’d you mean?”

“I mean, it could go well, it could go bad. But you’re together, for now. That’s what I saw.” I must’ve looked a bit disappointed, because immediately, she said, “If you really like him, you’ll work through your issues.”

“What issues?” I asked. “What makes you think we’ve got issues?”

She shook her head. “Everyone’s got issues.”

“Hmm,” I said. “And what about Nanna’s love life? What do you see about her?”

Karma’s grey eyes twinkled. “I try not to see too far into her love life.”

Nanna nodded proudly. “Yup. That’s the kind of relationship you need, Tiff. The kind people are scared to look into.”

I gave Karma a despairing look, but she just smiled and shrugged, and I glanced at the clock.

“I guess I should get going,” I said. “Time to start turning into a pumpkin.”

Ian said, “Don’t you mean turning into a princess?”’

“I’m not sure,” I told him. “But you sure seem to know a lot about princesses.”

Ian crossed his arms. “Hey, it’s not my fault I grew up with two younger sisters and they forced me to watch those stupid Disney shows all the time. It’s not like I had
fun
watching Tinkerbell, or Cinderella, or Thumbe–”

“Sure,” I said, standing up. “Come on, I need your help transforming.”

“What?” he stood up, looking baffled. “But I’m not any good with makeup.”

Nanna said, “I can help. I’m pretty good with that stuff, I did my friend Seraphina’s makeup for her third wedding.”

I shuddered. I’d seen photos of Seraphina’s wedding – she wore a turquoise dress with heavy turquoise eyeshadow, bright orange lipstick and deep splotches of red blusher. Now I knew who she had to thank.

“Not that kind of help,” I said. “Ian, I need to go through those photos of the four women who were paying Adam, and you need to brief me on whatever you’ve learnt about them.”

“Oh.” Ian said. “Phew. I was worried for a moment. My sisters showed me how they did contouring and pouty lips and stuff but I wasn’t sure I could do a good job with it.”

“You’d probably do a better job than Nanna,” I whispered.

***

Ian and I spent more than hour in his condo poring over the photos and publicly found information about Michelle Ackermann, Rachel Nge, Nicole Weiss and Alexia Boyle. Ian had been right – they were all very beautiful, in that perfect manicured, buffed and polished way that many rich women are. They all looked like they were in their twenties, and in every single photo, they were dressed in couture and had sparkly big rocks dangling off their ears.

Michelle Ackermann was a tall, stunning blonde with dark features which indicated that her stylish hair came out of a bottle. Rachel Nge was Asian, with long, jet black hair and a petite figure. Nicole Weiss was another blonde, but her eyes were a bright blue and her skin was porcelain, so I presumed that maybe the hair was mostly natural. Alexia had olive skin, dark eyes and wavy, hazel hair tinted with subtle highlights. All four women had the perfect, slim figure that usually comes after hours spent with a personal trainer, and perfect, shiny white teeth.

“They’re all married to wealthy businessmen,” Ian told me. “Michelle’s husband is in real estate, Rachel’s husband owns a hedge fund, Nicole’s husband is a business broker and Alexia’s husband is a plastic surgeon.”

“Don’t the women have jobs?”

“Not that I could find. They’re all incredibly private people – they don’t even have social networking profiles, and I could hardly find out anything about them at all.”

“Well, I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I said. “If they’re such private people, they probably won’t want to talk to me.”

“I should come along,” Ian said. “Help you out and all. I could turn on my charm and make these women talk.”

“I don’t think your charm will work on them,” I said lightly. “Maybe I should just be persistent.”

“If one of these women had something to do with Adam’s death, she’ll probably want to lie low for a bit. Probably won’t come to tonight’s party.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

I got up with a sigh, and headed over to my condo, hoping that something would turn up tonight.

It was five-thirty and Nanna was still at Glenn’s. I’d managed to slip into my green outfit and do my hair and makeup without anyone insisting I put on sexy underwear or bright green eyeshadow. I was putting on my strappy stilettos when I heard the rap on the door, and I jumped up and almost stubbed my toe. After a moment of standing still, breathing slowly and telling myself that I’d be fine, I opened to door with a bright smile.

“Hi,” said Jack. “Ready to party?”

Jack was wearing a black tuxedo and a massive silver watch with cool-looking mini-dials. His dark hair was slicked back, his green eyes glittered, and he looked like he’d stepped out of an ad for fine scotch. In contrast, I felt frumpy and underdressed, despite my slicked-on mascara and lip-gloss, dangling earrings and freshly straightened hair.

I slumped down onto the sofa, buried my head in my hands and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” said Jack.

I shook my head and mumbled, “You’re wearing a tux. I should’ve gone for a flashier dress.”

“No! Your dress is perfect. Goes well with the theme.”

I looked up in horror. “What theme?”

“There’s a rainforest theme;
it’s a ‘Save the Rainforest’ party.” A guilty look crossed his face and he added remorsefully, “I should’ve told you earlier, huh?”

“What if it’d been a black and white theme?” I tried not to glare at him. “Or an all-red theme? How do you invite someone to a fancy party without telling them there’s a ‘theme’ involved? And you’re meant to be a playboy, too.”

An eyebrow shot up. “A playboy? Who said that?”

Stone had, when he’d warned me off Jack a few weeks ago. I said, “Are you trying to tell me you’re not?”

“Don’t believe the rumors, sweetheart. Tabloids like to put stuff together.”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I said, “Rainforest theme, huh? Green dress ok?”

“It’s perfect.”

I grabbed my tiny purse, took a deep breath, and stood up. “I guess we should get going, then.”

I locked the door behind us, and Jack put one arm around my waist and led me to the elevator. And just like that, my annoyance disappeared. So did my nervousness. In its stead was a sudden, overwhelming awareness of Jack – the way his hand fit snugly against the curve of my waist, the way his forearm felt strong and protective against my back, the way his oceanic cologne filled my senses.

The elevator door closed behind us, and Jack turned to face me, his hand on my lower back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “You’ll do fine.”

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat. I wanted to say something, but all I could think of was how close we were standing, and how warm his hand felt.

The elevator doors opened with a ping, and Jack turned around, his hand still pressed against my back, and we walked toward his limo.