The Exposé 3 (5 page)

Tasha
claps her hands together. “Yay! This is going to be so much
fun. The other girls can be such bitches,” she adds.
“Everyone’s trying to hit up the high-rollers and earn
more tips. It’s a jungle out there.”

“Well, you don’t have
to worry about that from me,” I reassure her. “I just
want to take a look around. This company might be part of a story I’m
working on.”

“Sure,” Tasha shrugs.
“On one condition.”

“What?”

“You let me do something
with that hair.”

I pick up a lock of straggly,
unwashed hair and grimace. “Deal.”

*

It
takes me and Tasha a full hour to transform me from ‘miserable
wallowing’ to ‘semi-hot chick’, but by the time the
Towne Car arrives to pick us up and take us to the party, I can just
about pass for a wannabe actress/model/hostess. I’m squeezed
into one of my roommate’s glittery dresses, with fake eyelashes
and my hair all mussed up in a messy bun.

Who would have guessed undercover
reporting would require so much mascara?

“My
school should have offered these kinds of classes as part of their
journalism major,” I giggle, squeezing into the backseat next
to Tasha. “How to get your story and walk in four-inch heels.”

“Shh,” Tasha says
softly. She nods to the driver.

Shit.

I
shut up quickly. I didn’t even think, but of course, this car
was sent by the company too. All the drivers are on the payroll, and
although it doesn’t look like he’s paying attention to us
here in the back seat, I can’t take any chances.

“Thanks,” I whisper.
Tasha winks.

“Here,
your lip gloss is smudged,” she says loudly, wiping the corner.
“What do you think of the UltraGloss range? I like the color,
but it totally dries me out...”

As
she chats away about makeup, I go over my plan for the night. I
haven’t entirely wasted the past few days moping. I also
followed my editor’s advice, and did some more research on
Dax’s businesses and history. The city records showed me that
this Nikolai guy was listed as an original investor in one of Dax’s
first enterprises, a bar in Brooklyn. His name was on a property deed
attached to the bar, but when it came time to re-register a year
later, it was nowhere to be found.

From
what I’ve discovered down by the waterfront, Dimas is in real
estate, with plenty of money to burn, but it seems like this guy has
a bad reputation. I guess it makes sense that Dax would get out of
business with him as soon as possible, but that doesn’t explain
what he’s doing back in his life again.

Maybe
if I can figure it out, Dax will forgive me. It’s a long shot,
I know, but I also know I’ve done wrong by lying to him. He’s
keeping just as many secrets, but if I can even the scales and be
useful for a change, then maybe it will help make up for my betrayal.
And perhaps this Nikolai guy is the real story, not the club. I know
I have nothing but questions right now, but my reporter’s
instincts are telling me, something’s going on. ‘Always
follow the money,’ an old professor always told us, and this
Nikolai guy has plenty. He could be the key to everything.

By
the time the car pulls up at a swank building in Tribeca, I’ve
got my plan all figured out. I’ll nose around, see if I can get
close to this Nikolai guy, or one of his business partners. If I keep
my eyes and ears open, I know I can find something that might be
useful to Dax.

Anything to get him to give me
the time of day.

Or something more...

I push away the blazing memories
of our elevator hook-up, and follow Tasha out of the car and through
the gleaming doors. “Events like this, we just pretend to be
regular guests,” she fills me in. We’re ushered across a
marble lobby and into an elevator heading for the penthouse suite.
The car is full of glamorous-looking women, and Tasha nods greetings
to a few. “Smile, mingle, look like you’re having a good
time,” she continues. “Basically, act like the guy you’re
talking to is the most fascinating person in the room.”

“Newbie?”
a statuesque blonde asks.

Tasha nods. “I’m just
showing her the ropes. Oh, and if anyone asks, just say you’re
interning someplace, like a PR firm. They love it when you’re
an intern.”

“Because
God forbid I say I’m a psychology PhD candidate with a Masters
in sociology,” the blonde drawls. “His dick might just
shrivel up on the spot.”

We all laugh.

“OK,
for tonight, I’m interning at...a real estate company,” I
decide. I figure I’ve watched enough episodes of
House
Hunters
to be able to
wing it. “What about you?”

“Oh, I tell the truth,”
Tasha beams. “They love that I’m an actress.”

Figures.

The elevator stops, and we all
get out -- right into the middle of a magazine photo-shoot. At least,
that’s what it feels like. The penthouse is set right in the
middle of the action, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on
the glittering New York City lights. The apartment is packed with
people in designer clothes, mingling and sipping champagne, and as I
look around, a waiter glides past with an amazing-looking platter of
sushi.

“Wow,” I whisper to
Tasha. “Thanks for loaning me this outfit. I would have been
way underdressed.”

“I told you, they’re
splashing money around like crazy. Hosting events every week.”
Tasha plucks a couple of glasses of champagne from a nearby table and
passes me one. “Don’t drink too much,” she warns
me. “Just sip it.”

I check the bottle. Dom Perignon.
There must be two dozen bottles lined up. Plus the catering,
penthouse rental, staff...

Tasha’s right. There’s
serious money here. Which means serious potential for a story.

“Ooh, there’s Miles,”
Tasha says, waving to a nerdy-looking guy across the room. He lights
up, and cuts towards us. “Tech billionaire,” she tells me
quickly. “Sweet, but totally awkward.”

“Hi,
Tasha!” Miles reaches us. He’s wearing a rumpled plaid
polo shirt and khakis, and at any other party he probably would have
been asked to leave by now. But I guess there are perks to being a
billionaire. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t
know anyone.”

“Well
now you do, this is my friend Zoe.”

“Hello,
Zoe.” Miles sticks out his hand, and I shake it. “Are you
an actress like Tasha?” he asks eagerly.

“No, I’m an intern,”
I reply brightly. “If you guys will excuse me...”

But of course, Miles is gazing
adoringly at Tasha like there’s nobody else in the room. I take
my cue and slip away, doing a slow circuit of the party to get the
lay of the land.

I
feel a buzz of excitement, all my undercover instincts back again. It
was fun, sneaking around at the club, and now I’m doing the
same thing here, keeping an eagle eye out for anything suspicious or
any details that can be useful to me.

It’s definitely weird.
Everywhere I look, glamorous young women are smiling and laughing
with older, rich-looking guys. But they’re all paid to be here,
flirting. For what? To make the men feel comfortable? I know it’s
not like they’re going home with them, but still, it’s
just odd.

Or
is this just how it works in this world? I have no idea, but either
way, I’m glad it gives me some cover tonight. I can just stroll
around alone, and nobody will think I’m out of place.

I
pull out my phone and check the research on Nikolai. Information was
pretty thin on the ground, but I did find a recent photo of him at a
ceremony to break ground on some development. I check the picture,
then search the room for his salt and pepper hair and foreboding
stare.

Bingo.

He’s
over in the corner on a couch, deep in conversation with a clean-cut
man in his forties. The other guy looks kind of uncomfortable, but I
can see Nikolai is laying on the charm, laughing and chatting. He
beckons over a tough-looking security guy and whispers in his ear. A
moment later, the security guy returns with two gorgeous women. They
take a seat, and begin flirting with both men.

I
edge closer. The clean-cut guy is relaxing now, as he gulps
champagne. Now that I have a better view, I realize, he looks kind of
familiar...

I surreptitiously lift my phone
and snap a quick photo, then I duck around the corner to take a
closer look. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, and I scan
back through my mind. The newspaper, or TV, or--

I stop. I know where I’ve
seen him: City Hall. He’s on the city council, a politician.
Andrew something...

I quickly google, and find the
result.

Andrew
Landsley. Rumored to be running for mayor soon.

Interesting.

I
tuck my phone away and step back out into the party. All of Nikolai’s
focus is on this one guy, so mine should be too. I casually stroll
over, pretending to check out the view as I get within eavesdropping
distance.

“...You’ve
got to think of the jobs,” Nikolai is saying. “I mean,
don’t get me wrong. I’m an environmentalist too. Save the
planet, you know. But at the end of the day, it’s the
hard-working people of this city who need our help. Yours and mine.”

An environmentalist? I hide a
snort. Sure, I bet he’s separating paper and plastic every
night.

But Andrew is eating it up.
“Preservation is important,” he nods. “That’s
why I can’t in all good conscience support the rezoning. That
land is a habitat to all kinds of endangered wildlife. I’ve
seen studies--”

“Studies?”
Nikolai interrupts. “Psh. Anyone can get a study done. I bet
they’re telling you it polls well, too?”

Andrew
nods. “Concern about the environment is a top priority for
youth voters.”

“But
what about the rest of us?” Nikolai replies. “Youth
voters aren’t trying to put food on the table.”

“Touché,”
Andrew tips his glass. “But they’re the ones getting me
elected next year.”

Nikolai
chortles with laughter, and the girls join in. “You’re a
smart man, I’ll give you that. Always working the angles. But
answer me this: are those granola-crunching kids going to pay for
your campaign? Votes are one thing, but we both know, it takes a lot
of money to get on their radars before Election Day.”

He looks up, and catches me
watching them.

I
turn back to the view and sip my champagne, hoping he’ll keep
talking, but instead, Nikolai gets up.

“You
know, that’s enough business for now,” he says, shooting
Landsley a slimy grin. “Why don’t I introduce you to a
few people? Rich people, with deep pockets, and an interest in local
politics.”

Landsley
chuckles. “Hey now, don’t go talking like that. This is
all above board. I’m hearing you out, is all.”

“Of
course.” Nikolai steers him away. “We’re all just
having a little fun.”

I
watch them go, an uneasy feeling taking root in the pit of my
stomach. Andrew Landsley seems relaxed, but Nikolai’s looking
at him like a shark circling its prey. Andrew may think he’s
just chatting to an interested businessman, but I can tell, Nikolai’s
got other plans.

Plans that somehow connect to
Dax.

I quickly head back to Tasha,
who’s surrounded by guys. “Hey, I’m sorry, I have
to go,” I tell her.

“What’s
the rush?” One of the guys leers at me. “Have another
drink.”

“I
can’t. My, umm, boss called me back in,” I say quickly.
“Being an intern is the worst!”

I hurry away, already itching to
hit up google and find out everything I can. This story is getting
more complicated by the minute, but I’m determined to unravel
the pieces. Money, power, real estate... It’s got all the
makings of a front page story, I just need Dax to fill in the blanks.

Impulsively, I flag down a cab
and direct him to Dax’s apartment. Things didn’t exactly
go as planned the last time I showed up, but this is different. Now,
I have something he can use.

Besides my body.

My stomach twists in knots as the
cab drives across town. I don’t know why I need this guy to
listen to me, but I do. Something about Dax has thrown me
off-balance; ever since I met him, I’ve been making stupid
mistakes, distracted even more from my goals. But the more I get to
know him, the more I see his true character -- and feel this crazy
connection between us.

It doesn’t make any sense,
but something keeps drawing me back to him. Making me want to change
his mind, and show I’m not just a lying, cheating girl who was
using him to get ahead.

We pull up outside his apartment,
and I pay the driver, climbing out. I take a deep breath, bracing
myself to go ring the bell, but instead, the door flies open and Dax
comes charging out.

He’s looking wildly around,
clutching his phone. His expression is panicked.

“Dax? What’s wrong?”
I ask, scared. I’ve never seen him look like this before.

He blinks, noticing me for the
first time. And whatever it is that’s happened, it’s
enough to make him forget he swore to never speak to me again.

“It’s Maria,”
he says, face ashen. “There’s been an accident.”

DAX

I push through the hospital
doors, looking wildly around. The late-night waiting room is packed,
but I cut straight through the crowd to the front desk.

“I need to find a patient,”
I demand, my pulse thundering in panic.

The
nurse at the desk doesn’t even look at me. She holds up her
finger for me to wait while she speaks on the phone.

My blood boils. “This is an
emergency!” I growl.

She rolls her eyes. “It
always is.”

The
nurse turns her back on me, laughing into the phone. I open my mouth,
about to rip her a new one, when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Zoe.
I’d almost forgotten she was here.