Home > Masked Innocence (Innocence #2)(51)

Masked Innocence (Innocence #2)(51)
Author: Alessandra Torre

He flashed a grin and headed downstairs. I flipped through the makeup bag, grabbing powder, mascara and lip gloss. Three minutes later, I stuck my phone in my pocket and bounded down the stairs.

Brad was on the phone, standing by the full-length windows that showcased the large backyard pool. Hearing my heels on the floor, he quickly ended the call and turned, whistling at my appearance. “You look great.”

“Great, but penniless. Can we stop by my house? Last time I was there, I didn’t grab my wallet.”

“You don’t need it.”

“That is so sugar daddy of you, but I like to have my wallet. That way I won’t feel guilty when I look at stuff. If you’re paying, I’ll refuse to look at anything and neither one of us will have any fun.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. But I am going to buy you some things, so go ahead and start getting used to the concept.”

“I didn’t say I won’t let you buy me stuff—just said I want my wallet also.” I grinned at him, sticking out my tongue and heading for the back door. He followed me, pressing the button for the garage doors, and we headed outside.

“Wait.” I grabbed his arm and he stopped, his car about to pull out onto his street. “Should we have a gun, or something? Some kind of protection?”

Brad pulled out, shaking his head at my question. “I do have a gun, in the center console, but I always have that there. No, we don’t need any protection today.”

The situation reminded me of a gun I had seen before, in the bathroom of his master suite. “So, you have two guns?”

He glanced over at me distractedly. “What? What do you mean?”

“I saw a gun in your house before, in the bathroom. And you said you always keep this one here, in the car. So you have two guns?”

He found my question amusing, and shook his head. “I’m not sure which gun you saw in my bathroom, but I probably have ten in the house, scattered about in different locations. Martha knows where they all are, as does Helga, who you still need to meet. I’ll have them show you the locations, just so you don’t accidentally knock one over at some point in time. Do you know how to shoot?”

I found that question amusing and grinned at him. “I grew up in south Georgia so, yes—I am well aware of how to shoot. Though I have more experience with shotguns and rifles than I do handguns. Why do you have so many?”

He shrugged. “I grew up in a house where guns were everywhere. If someone is going to come into my home to harm me, they are going to be armed. I’d like an even playing field.”

I nodded at that, my nerves still on edge. He glanced over, his eyes sharpening when they met mine. “Julia, relax. We are safe. One thing my family does is keep their word. You don’t have anything to worry about today.” He smiled at me and gripped my knee reassuringly.

Today. I sank into the soft leather, the contoured seat fitting my body perfectly. Yippee.

Forty-Four

We stopped by my house on the way, Brad’s car, as always, looking ridiculous parked in my neighborhood. Seeing as it was before noon, my house was quiet, everyone still asleep, and he came inside with me.

“Why don’t you grab a few things while we are here?”

I heard his suggestion from my bedroom, and stuck my head out of the door. “Like what?”

“Something dressy. In case we go out tonight.”

I shrugged, flipping through the rack in my closest and snagging a simple black dress that would cover any fancy destination he felt the need to take me to. Or a funeral. The thought stopped me cold and I grabbed my wallet and ran out, running into him in the hall. “Brad—what about Broward’s funeral!”

He frowned down at me, taking up way too much of the skinny hallway. “What about it?”

“It’s today! At three. We have to go.” I couldn’t believe that, in the course of everything, I had forgotten about the funeral. About the fact that my boss had died. I had shoved it aside as if it could hang out in the back of my mind without proper consideration.

He shrugged. “So? We’ll skip it.”

I flinched at the suggestion. “Skip it? We can’t skip it. What will people think?”

“What people? Broward? He’s not going to care.”

I pushed him into the living room, away from my sleeping roommates, and cocked a hip, giving him my best stern look. “I’m well aware that Broward won’t notice our absence, but everyone else will. I was his intern, and you were his partner. We are expected to attend.”

He put his hands on his hips and stared down at me. “Julia, I don’t give a f**k what people think. Some people might think that it’s disrespectful for me to attend, given that I had relations with his wife. She may not want me there. And besides that, we have bigger issues going on.”

“With the whole ‘someone trying to kill me’ thing? Because you just said I was safe.” I tried to glare at him, but my smile broke through.

He kissed my head and hid his grin as he escorted me out the door. “Point made. But we’re not going. I’m sorry. Thanks for yielding to my wisdom on this.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way for you to pay me back later,” I intoned, climbing into the car as he held the door for me.

“I’m sure you will,” he said with a grin.

* * *

WE PULLED INTO the Hillsdale Mall, the current favorite of local yuppies, and Brad circled around to the Neiman’s valet.

“I can literally see a parking spot,” I pointed out as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached over to unclick mine. “Right there! Like, ten feet away.” He smiled at me, ignoring my logic, and climbed out, accepting the valet ticket from the teenager who opened his doors. I climbed out, expelling a big breath of air, irritated by the waste of money, and accepted Brad’s outstretched hand. “Look at it! Right over there. Beautiful spot,” I grumbled as we passed through the brass doors, held open by a suited Neiman’s associate. Brad ignored me, and we came to a stop at the escalators, the bulk of the store surrounding us.

“Should we go upstairs to Women’s Fashion?” he asked, returning the flirtatious smiles of the Cosmetics girls.

“No, we can just walk through to the main mall—unless you have something you wanted to look for.”

“I think I owe you a pair of shoes.”

“For what?”

“The elevator—a couple of weeks ago. You seemed quite upset about it at the time.”

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