04 - Shock and Awesome (39 page)

 
   
Chapter Eighteen

 
   
Lord Justin waited on the steps of The Belmont, a small hotel tucked away behind the most exclusive part of Chilton. He wore a pink tie with a dark gray suit that had an actual pocket square, the hot pink silk peeking over the crease. He waved when he saw me pull up, and walked slowly down the steps, arriving on the sidewalk just as I handed my keys to the valet. I forlornly watched the Ferrari for a moment as it was driven away. What I wouldn't give for my bonus to be those cute wheels. It was the car my little VW would never be. On the plus side, my VW was all mine and unlikely to be the target of every car thief within a fifty-mile radius of Montgomery, so there was that.

 
   
"You look splendid," gushed Justin as he leaned in to air kiss me three inches from both cheeks.

 
   
"I know. I mean, thank you, so do you," I gushed in an equally superfluous manner. I was wishing I had a fan to direct some air at the sudden flush of heat on my face. It really wasn't okay to be so vain, but you know, he was right, I decided. I took his proffered arm and caught sight of my reflection in the hotel's shiny,
streakless
, glass doors. My yellow sundress, nipped in at the waist and flared to the knee, looked super cute, paired with my navy blazer and navy and white striped pumps. Not quite a bee, and not quite a sailor, but somewhere attractively in between. I was getting anxious for my first proper tea with the lord. As if on cue, the little finger of my right hand began edging away from the other fingers, as if ready to partake in a little tea drinking all on its own. It was just a shame that Justin was fifty percent likely to be a felon and one hundred percent likely to be dating a bunch of women.

 
   
I don't know if it was because Justin looked so showy, or perhaps, his accent made the wait staff seem extra deferential. Maybe it was because I just looked utterly fabulous on his arm, but his chest seemed to puff out more and more as we went into the hotel. By the time we were seated at our table, next to full-length windows that overlooked a pretty courtyard garden, Justin's chest seemed to have increased in size by at least a half. If he started pumping weights, he'd probably look pretty good, but not as good as... no, I refused to think about him.

 
   
"Again, I must say, you look divine," sighed Justin, as he ran his eyes over my top half... where they seemed to linger. Well, men were men no matter where they came from, I decided. Give them a title, and they still looked at your boobs. I shouldn't be surprised. "A true lady," he continued. "Just the type of female who would feel right at home in my family's country seat."

 
   
"Do you have a big, er, seat?" I stuttered.

 
   
"Enormous." Justin winked. I wondered if we were still talking houses, or if I'd gotten it all wrong and “seat” meant something else to an Englishman. "Acres and acres. We have three full-time gardeners for constant maintenance. The house has staff, too, of course," he added, like it was perfectly natural. I wondered if it was natural to keep mentioning it. Hadn't he tried to lure me in with stories about his wealth already? Not to mention the women I briefly met at the ball.

 
   
He reached for my hand and held it in his own, examining my nails before running his thumb over my palm. "These are hands that haven't seen a day's work," he told me.

 
   
What?! They'd seen days, nights, and weekends in all kinds of crappy jobs. There wasn't anything these hands hadn't done unfortunately, except, you know, anything illegal. Well, body-trading type of illegal. These hands had definitely done other illegal stuff, and they were about to do one other thing that might be viewed dimly in the eyes of the law. Fortunately, I wasn't too clear on that and pled ignorance as my defense. For most people, ignorance is the world's worst defense, but most people weren't related to a large chunk of MPD, several of whom wanted babysitting. Good babysitters were hard to find. Lucky me.

 
   
However, I decided to appear affronted at the assertion that I might have to work. After all, wasn't I an heiress in Justin's eyes? "Of course not," I sniffed. "I'm rich!"

 
   
Justin's eyes flashed. "Filthy rich, darling?"

 
   
"Rolling in it." Before Justin asked just how much I had to roll in, the waiter approached and we spent a little time looking through the menu. Justin insisted we "partake" in the "traditional" champagne afternoon tea: tiny sandwiches, miniature cakes and all.

 
   
While we waited, I reached into my purse for my cell phone before laying it on the table. "I hope you don't mind," I said, "but I'm waiting for a call from my jeweler. I decided I didn't like the ones I had at home when someone broke in, so he's showing me some new pieces. Diamonds," I added, watching his reaction carefully, "big ones."

 
   
"Not at all," Justin replied with a shrug as if he didn't care, but something about the way his eyes widened at the suggestion of big diamonds told me he cared a lot. Again, I had the feeling that he wasn't quite as wealthy as he claimed. He was always just a little bit too interested in how much I supposedly had. On the other hand, maybe rich people were all nosy show-offs. I didn't know any personally, so I couldn't be sure. Justin took his cell from inside his breast pocket and laid it on the table. "My money guy said he'd call about some investments this afternoon."

 
   
I looked at his phone. He looked at mine. Neither rang. But I did have his phone in the open, and that's exactly what I wanted. Problem was, how could I clone it without him noticing? It wasn't like I could point into the courtyard and shout, “There's an elephant!” to keep him looking for the few minutes it took to copy all his data.

 
   
"So," said Justin, raising his eyebrows and blinking. "How do you feel about living in England? Or would you prefer the States after our wedding?"

 
   
"I, uh,
wha
.." I started, almost jumping from my chair in surprise. I flapped my hands as my breath caught, and the next thing I knew, the approaching waiter tripped over my foot, sending the carafe of water he carried in slow motion over the table and onto... Justin's lap.

 
   
Bull’s eye!

 
   
"Argh!" yelled Justin, jumping up as if the water were hot tea. "You damned fool!"

 
   
"Sir, I apologize," stuttered the waiter as the commotion drew glances from around the room. "Allow me..." He produced a cloth and made attempts at dabbing Justin's crotch while Justin tried to fend him off. Somehow, neither seemed to be enjoying the “Step-backwards-and-dry, step-forwards-and-flap-hands” dance. Except for me.

 
   
"
Lexi
, I'll return shortly. Out of my way," snapped Justin, giving the waiter enough time to jump sideways as Justin stormed from the room.

 
   
"I'm so sorry," said the waiter, with an apologetic look. He gave a nervous glance across the room toward the doors Justin just exited. Beyond it, loomed a suited presence, whom I could only assume was his boss.

 
   
I pasted on a bright smile. "Don't worry about it," I told him, remembering my days as the world's most inefficient waitress. They were only a few days. Well, a week, really. Lily and I both got fired at the same time. She got another job the next week while I sulked. "He needed to cool his jets anyway. Would you replace his chair in case it's damp, and perhaps mop up the water?" I asked as pleasantly as I could. The poor guy's nerves were on edge, but he just did me a huge favor, even if he didn't know it. Plus, you could always judge someone by how they treated waiters, and I liked to put myself in a good light.

 
   
The waiter heaved a grateful breath. "Of course, Madam," he said, grabbing the chair and racing from the room. As heads returned to their own conversations, I carefully extracted the small cloning device from my purse, reached for Justin's phone, and mated the two. Almost immediately, the red glow appeared, then "1%."

 
   
"Come on," I urged it softly. "Let's do this!"

 
   
”5%, 10%,” the little device carried on. As the waiter changed the chair and a busboy cleared away the damp mess, I held Justin's cell phone in my lap, smiling nicely at anyone who looked my way. With the table put to rights, I focused my attention on the courtyard windows, ideal for checking the reflection of an approaching angry lord.

 
   
Uncovering the device, I peeked into my lap. ”75%.” Nearly there. My heart began to beat faster, and my nerves began to tingle. Surely, Justin would be dry by now? So close. All I needed were a few more minutes.

 
   
”85%.”

 
   
”90%.”

 
   
I checked the window and saw the reflection of the waiter as he entered with a tiered, cake stand laden with an assortment of goodies. Immediately behind him was Justin, glowering still, but considerably dryer.

 
   
”94%.”

 
   
My heart thudded. I wasn't going to make it.

 
   
The waiter stepped forward. Justin stepped forward. They stepped together. Justin narrowed his eyes. The waiter grimaced. They both prepared to step forward again.

 
   
”96%.”

 
   
"Come on, come on," I urged the gadget.

 
   
Justin signaled to the waiter to move with an angry cut of his hand, and the waiter slunk forward. He fussed over the presentation of the stand, while a pretty little waitress approached next, adding a champagne bucket and two delicate, long-stemmed flutes. Justin stood behind them, his route blocked. I could not care less. He was rude, slightly stupid, and, I remembered all of a sudden, a bill evader. I wondered if he planned to stick me with this one too; or did he think I didn't know that he slunk out of Alessandro's with a bad card?

 
   
”98%.”

 
   
"Thank you," I murmured, beaming at the servers as they shrank away from Justin. He eyed the champagne bucket suspiciously then dramatically went about testing the chair, presumably so his effort of drying his lap was not in vain. His back was turned to me.

 
   
”100%.”

 
   
I detached the cloning gadget, letting it drop into the folds of my skirt, and returned the phone to the table, moving my hand to pick up a finger sandwich as Justin turned to face me. He sat down with a roll of his eyes as if he were extremely put out.

 
   
"Mmm," I smiled. "These look delicious." With my heart beating faster than normal after my close call and lucky escape, I took a satisfied bite. Another bite, and the tiny,
crustless
sandwich was gone. Damn, crazy English sandwiches.

 
   
I didn't have to talk much over tea. Justin droned on and on about the family estate and how he would take over soon, but only after his father passed. For now, he was content to look after his business dealings here in Montgomery. As to why he picked our large town over other cities not so far away, or what his businesses were, remained a mystery, and Justin evaded those questions like a pro. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for the city," he said eventually with a casual wave of his hand as he reached for a tiny cake. "Just like you," he added, which was a fair point, given our location. "Do you ever see yourself as a country girl?"