Shut Off (Just This Once #3) (5 page)

Joel was quiet that morning. I was already starting to see the slip in his personality. Gone was the jovial man who sent me a singing telegram and drunkenly played I Spy in my home. He was already showing the wear and tear of a brutal trial, and he hadn’t even stepped foot in the courtroom yet.

It made me nervous to wake up without Joel, especially now that I knew he wasn’t going to share what was going on with the case. There was no way for me to get inside his head. Which made it all the more necessary for me to get to the bottom of this before his court date.

When I went down for breakfast, I noticed the small white card he left for me.

You looked so beautiful in your sleep, I couldn’t wake you.

Be home late.

~Joel

After my lunch with Kerri, I went home and Googled the address she had on file for Lara. I was surprised to find it was in North Vegas, an area known for its sketchy parts.
For someone who was trying to mingle with people of money, what is she doing in the hood?
I saved the address in my maps with the intent that I would be making a visit the next day while Joel was at work.

I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for, but seeing as how I wasn’t finding anything on her anywhere else, I figured it wouldn’t hurt. I had no intention of actually interacting with her, but only hoped that I would gather some type of intel that would make all of the investigating and sneaking around worth it.

I practically inhaled breakfast and skipped off through the house to get ready, my body vibrating with nervous energy at what I was about to do.

Waving to the guard as I passed through the gates to the community, I hoped I would be able to get back in without Joel. I didn’t want to involve him in any part of my plans. He had enough on his plate without knowing what I was up to. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of what I had planned anyway, seeing as how he didn’t even want to tell me that there was a court date already scheduled.

Our conversation was tense the previous night with all of the things we couldn’t say to one another—both of us looking to protect the other, while harboring information that could make or break whatever was happening between us. I continued driving down the road while trying to decipher exactly what to call our “relationship.” I wasn’t exactly his girlfriend. I wasn’t so sure he was even looking for one. And I sure wasn’t looking for a boyfriend when I went to the club that night. Maybe a little company. Someone to dance with. At most, someone to ask for my number so I wouldn’t feel like a complete leper. And then he showed up and all rational thought left the building. Maybe it was the alcohol.

The maps app from my phone called out directions, steering me North of the 95. I knew I was getting closer the more chain-link fences, bent awnings, and wooden garages I saw. The deeper I drove into the shadier part of town, the more of an outsider I felt. It was risky going out there, not just because it was unsafe but also because I was nervous about being anywhere near her.

What if she happened to be outside when I pulled up? What if she recognized my car? What was the worst that could happen by my showing up? Could she file a report against me, claiming I was stalking her?
She’d probably get away with it, just like all this other shit she would probably get away with.
I didn’t let my thoughts deter me from my goal. I knew Lara was lying, and I was going to do everything I could to make sure she didn’t get away with it. I had worked in law long enough to know that bitches like her got away with way too much.
Not this time.

“Your destination is on the right,” my phone blurted out just as I’d turned onto her street. The house was directly across from a trailer park. There was no landscaping in the front yard, only compacted dirt and dried leaves that had fallen from the palm tree next door. On the right side of the lot was something that may have acted like a fence at one point, but now was nothing more than crumbing concrete surrounding a small mound of dirt. Everything about the home screamed destitute—from the barren yard, to the rusted bars over the only window in the front of the house, to the peeling paint, and, finally, to the roof that looked to be missing a few tiles.

The driveway had so many cracks, it looked like a mosaic littered with oil stains. Parked just outside of the garage was a brand new BMW in a fire-engine red color that looked like something the devil himself would own. A white, rusted Grand Am was parked just outside the house, seemingly fitting in with all of the other broken down, decades-old vehicles that crowded the street and, in some cases, front yards.

I stopped my car just outside the neighbor’s house, adjacent to the Grand Am, but within perfect view to see the comings and goings of the house. As I put the car in park, I realized the error of my stakeout. I wasn’t prepared in the least to be sitting there for any real length of time. I didn’t have a bottle of water, which was just plain stupid when you’re talking about Vegas heat. Water is pretty much a necessity. Nor did I have anything to snack on. Warring with whether to leave and pick up something at that very moment or wait it out until I was a sweaty mess and my stomach began gnawing my insides, I decided on the latter and leaned my seat back into a comfortable position. One that granted me the ability to see out without anyone directly seeing me, which may have been pointless if Lara were to recognize my car.

With the first cropping of sweat lining my skin, I thought back to some PSA announcement about leaving babies and animals in the car in the sweltering heat. I’d only been in the car for five minutes with the car turned off before I was turning the starter over to get the air pumping back through my car. There was no way I would be able to make it another minute in the stifling heat. At 10 a.m., it was already 90 degrees outside, and in the car that felt like a staggering 110.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened. I caught a brief glimpse of someone exiting the home before I ducked my head behind the door frame of my car, hoping that whoever had just left wouldn’t notice the lone woman sitting in her car watching the home like a single white female. The sound of car doors clicking let me know that someone was leaving. Leaning backwards slightly, I glanced out the rear driver’s side window to see who it was.

Lara. In a white bondage mini dress and sandals that roped up her legs. Her short black bob—her distinguishing feature—was perfectly styled without a hair out of place. She hugged a man who I presumed to be her boyfriend. Paul Twinings, I recalled from my meeting with Kerri.

Her face was hidden in his embrace and I watched in odd fascination at their interaction. There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable in the way they held each other, nothing about them seemed to relay the fact that they were newly involved as I would assume seeing as how only two months ago she was dating Joel. It felt uncomfortable watching her this way, like I was looking in on a moment that ordinarily I would turn my head to avoid seeing. It was a private moment not meant for public consumption, but she threw all common decency out of the window when she had me fired from my job. As far as I was concerned, she didn’t deserve the same treatment as regular people. Besides, it seemed to me she spent a lot of her time trying to distinguish herself from the common person.

So I looked on while the man deep-throating Lara’s face clutched at her back as if she would vanish within his hold. Her arms hung loosely around him, and she kissed him back with less enthusiasm. From his scraggly beard and unkempt clothes, I could only assume that he was the owner of the house and this was somewhere Lara was staying in the meantime, until her meal ticket came through.

I hated to think about Lara and this man living the lap of luxury on Joel’s dime. Lara would probably find the most ostentatious house to live in, something that told anyone driving by that she had the most money on the block. The thought burned through my stomach, leaving behind a sour churning in my gut.

Lara slipped from his grip, and I ducked down just as she turned around to leave. The car door slammed shut, and I listened as she started the car and backed out of the driveway. I caught a glimpse of her taillights shimmering red as she stopped before turning back onto the main street. When I looked out of the window again, her boyfriend was just closing the door to the home.

Staring at the closed door, I thought back to what Kerri said. Paul was scheduled to give his deposition for the case, which made me wonder where he fit into all of this. Was Lara using him, too? Maybe she needed him to vouch for her, and the moment she would have any money she would slip from his life like a boat without an anchor. By the way he held her, I could see it was something that scared him—being without her. It gave me an idea, but I had some planning to do. So I left without another look in the direction of the home I was sure I would be seeing again very soon.

Chapter Five

Joel

It was Friday, and I couldn’t work. I sat in my office all morning fiddling with my pens and wishing I had some new news that could set my mind at ease.

My deposition was the day before, and Jerry assured me that everything went well. Well, as good as could be expected. I wasn’t so convinced. I felt my face flame a few times when Henderson, Lara’s lawyer, began insinuating that I was capable of doing that to her.

“You just lost your father a few days before the incident, did you not? Would you say you were distressed in any way? What was the status of your relationship when Farrows arrived at your house? Was that the first time you two had argued?”

Every question seemed to rip a bigger hole in my chest.

Just thinking about that day put me off-kilter. It was only two days after the news of my father’s death, and I was still in shock. It seemed like the worst time to break up with someone, but I had to. There was nothing else I could do. I couldn’t bring her to his funeral, and I didn’t want to lie. I was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. In light of everything that my father said, I knew it was the right thing to do, and to drag it out seemed painful—for the both of us. We needed a nice, clean cut. Considering that I told her over the phone, Lara took it better than I expected. She made plans to pick up her things, and we would go our separate ways. Simple enough, right?

I thought about leaving the condo, so she could pick up her things alone, without feeling like I was watching her move from room to room in search of all her possessions, but I figured that was a cop-out. It was bad enough I dumped her over the phone. The least I could do was man-up and see her face to face. End things properly. Except, I didn’t realize that she would use that as an opportunity to frame me for whatever happened to her after she left my condo.

I guess that was her way of saying she was unhappy about the circumstances. It could have been worse. She could have had me arrested, which would have made me miss my own father’s funeral. No, she only wanted money and to ruin my reputation, my father’s company, and my future in the process.

Lara was getting deposed a few hours later, and I was pulling for a miracle. Anything that would exonerate me from her accusations. Anything to keep me from going to court and facing her while she continued spouting her lies. It’d been months since I’d seen her, and after everything that had happened, I wasn’t looking forward to ever seeing her again. I just wanted her out of my life. I wanted to be free to move on. Which was the real problem.

As long as Lara still had her talons in me, I would never be able to start something real with Blaire. It’s not like we really talked about what was happening between us, and I wasn’t so sure that the moment all of this was over, Blaire would stay. Whether or not I won or lost the case, Blaire made it clear from the beginning that she wasn’t looking for anything. She said she didn’t have the time. It wasn’t like I was free to come and go as I pleased anymore. I had a company to run.
All of those lectures from my father about responsibility and reputation, everything he spent the last several years preparing me for
was finally beating down my door, and I was forced to answer. That, or everything he worked so hard for would have been all for nothing. My playboy ways already made me feel like I failed him in life. I couldn’t fail him in death, too.

“Melanie
?” I called through the intercom.

“Yes, Mr.
Trevaunt
?”

“I’m going to head home. Forward all my calls to voicemail, and as soon as you’re done, you may head home.”

“Thank you, Mr.
Trevaunt
.”

I was powering down my computer and out of my chair before she could even finish thanking me. It wasn’t like I was getting much work done. It was hard enough trying to concentrate on work when Blaire was at my home waiting for me. Couple that with the fact that Lara would be deposed in a matter of hours—my thoughts were bouncing around like Mexican jumping beans.

***

“Blaire, you home?” I called as soon as I opened up the front doors. It was odd enough to be staying on a relatively permanent basis at that home, but to have someone to come home to was even more unnatural.

“I’m upstairs.” Her soft voice echoed down the stairs, like a siren song luring me through the quiet home.

I tossed my blazer to the floor and kicked off my shoes as I embarked on a mission to find her. Being the workaholic she was, Blaire seemed to gravitate to the office of her own home, so I stopped in my office first. “Marco,” I yelled out when I realized she wasn’t in there. She called back “Polo,” and I turned back down the hallway in the direction of where I heard her voice coming from. The doors at the end of the hall were open, yet with a quick glance in all three, I couldn’t make out where she was.

“Marco…”

I waited a few minutes before yelling again, “Marco.”