Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1) (8 page)

I hope it isn't more sex toys.
Peering side to side, I nodded. “Okay, but keep this between us.” Gripping the ribbon, I slid it free. Then, I eased the lid off of the box.

Together, we both inhaled sharply.

The dress was like a waterfall of mercury. I lifted it high enough for us both to see the low-cut back, lace flourishing like a rose garden along the edges.

“Do you know what this is?” Laralie asked, fingering the label stuck to the neck of the dress. “It's a Vera Wang dress, from her new limited collection. This has to cost a fortune!”

“Really?” I asked, but... I knew. I'd spent plenty of time as a kid cutting out pictures of these dresses and sticking them to my walls. I didn't want to get into this with her, though. It wasn't important. Not anymore.

Laralie eyeballed me, letting the dress go before sighing. “You have no clue, do you? Alexis, we
work
on magazines that show these dresses off! Have you never noticed?”

I scrunched my shoulders up. “I do desk work, not articles like you.” I hated playing dumb, but it was better than explaining what I'd given up on. “It's beautiful, who cares who made it?”

Her lips pouted, a hand dragging over her face. “He's sent you something like this, and you don't even understand.” Rubbing her temples, she groaned. “How come guys like this never contact me?
I'd
appreciate it!”

Fidgeting, I brushed the soft material again. “I
do
appreciate it.”

“Fine, fine. I guess I'm just a little surprised to see this in person.” She reached out, tracing the hem.

When I moved the dress, something slid my way. The small envelope was deliciously familiar, but I didn't want Laralie to see the note. Tucking it into my lap under the desk, I devised a plan to get her to go away so I could read it. Before I could, a new voice spoke out. “Excuse me, Alexis Willow?”

Together, Laralie and I looked up at the man who had appeared. The broadness of his shoulders showing through his tight, black shirt made it clear he took care of himself. There was a two-day-old scruff around his square jaw, heavy bags looking out of place under his sparkling green eyes. Behind his ear sat a simple red pen.

“Yes?” I asked, “I'm Alexis, and you are...?”

“Detective Roose.” He extended a large, callused hand. On impulse I shook it, but my skin was numb.

The detective.
I'd completely forgotten.

Everyone in the room was staring my way, most didn't bother to be subtle. Roose nodded his head to me. “Could we go somewhere a little more private?”

Laralie made a motion behind his back, pushing up her own boobs while wiggling her hips. I read her lips: “Want me to distract him for you?”

Ducking my head, I quickly shook it. I didn't need her to make this worse. “Sure, we can use one of the conference rooms.” I buried the note from Silver in my trouser pocket before I stood.

He ran his thumbs down until they were hooked in his belt. Under one solid arm, a thick folder peeked out. “Lead the way.”

On stiff legs, I turned, marching towards the glass-windowed room down the hall. Everyone was still watching me, and when I peered back at Laralie, she held the box up and mouthed, “I'll guard this for you.”

Guard it? I knew she was probably going to sit and swoon over the dress, imagining she was wearing it to some fancy party. I was extra glad I'd found the note and took it, it would have been a disaster in her hands.

Opening the door, I motioned Roose inside. He tipped his head, settling at the long table as I closed the shutters. I didn't want my coworkers snooping through the windows at us.

“Sorry about all this,” he said as I sat down across from him. His eyes had a wet realness in them that made me think he actually
was
sorry. He pulled out the folder and a notebook. “I'm really hoping you can help me out.”

Crinkling my forehead, I sat uncomfortably. “You said this was about Old Stone Bank.”

His head bobbed, the red pen twirling in his fingers. I saw how thick they were, as if the young detective had worked on a farm his whole life. “Right. The robbery that happened five years ago. Now, I'm sure you—”

“Is robbery the right word?”

He paused, his pen touching the cover of the notebook. “Excuse me?”

Rocking in place, I shrugged. “I mean, whoever stole all that money... they gave it back to the people it was supposed to go to. Didn't they?”

His smile became very stale, almost patronizing. “Miss Willow, the man who hacked the bank that day, he took what wasn't meant for him. He broke the law. It was a robbery—and a large one. Plain and simple.”

Under the table, I pressed a thumb into the back of one hand. “People were being taken advantage of by that insurance company.” I'd forgotten the name, it had been so long since the news story had broke.

“I guess you listened to that bullshit spin. Bank Robber Hero,” he scoffed. “It's funny. Considering that you were almost killed that day, you're sure happy to defend the criminal we're after.”

Killed. That word cut at me, pushing sweat from my pores. Everything about that day had gone fuzzy in my memory, wobbly and muted like it had happened to someone else and I'd only heard the story secondhand.

But he was right, why was I defending someone who'd put people's lives at stake?

My
life?

Guilt burned through me, as if someone had put a battery in my chest and sliced it open. “I'm sorry. You're right.”

He softened his tone. “That sounded like I was accusing you. I'm not. Actually, I'm here because you're one of the few people who had any contact with the man we're after.” His smile was gentle. “I need your help, Miss Willow.”

Pushing my hair from my face, I focused on him. “Years ago, when this all went down, I gave my statement. You should have that in your files.”

“I do, and I've read it several times.” He flicked his notebook open, scanning it. “You didn't have much to say. If anything, you mostly refused to speak. I'm here because I'm hoping to get a clearer picture.”

My tongue shriveled. “I don't remember anything. Not really.”

The pen twisted faster. “Nothing? How is that possible?”

“After...
it
happened, I went to see a therapist.” My mother had insisted. I'd gone from plotting my big plans, to hiding in my room and never leaving the house. “They told me it was a safety mechanism. The trauma kept me from recalling the details.”

Roose bent close, grabbing my hands on the table. It made me think of Silver, so I pulled away, uncomfortable with such intimacy from the detective. “Can I show you something?”

I nodded, and he opened up his folder. Sliding a paper to me, he waited anxiously. “Read that and tell me if it means anything to you.”

Bending close, I scoured the page. It contained a bunch of symbols, word and number vomit, if you asked me. “What am I looking for?”

“It's right there in the center.”

Squinting, I looked... and I saw it. “Oh!” Surprised, I started to read the sentence. It had been hidden in the mess. “It says, 'Silver spoons for some, government cock—” I choked.

The detective was watching me closely, did he want to see my reaction?

Cocks for everyone else,
I finished in my head. I flashed him a nervous look. “What is this?”

“It doesn't mean anything to you?”

“It's a little vulgar,” I mumbled.

Sighing, he pulled the paper back. “It's a phrase that was hidden in the code that our tech intelligence were able to dig up after the latest hacking attempt. It's the hacker's calling card, if you ask me.”

The back of my neck was warm. “Oh,” I said simply.

Roose tucked the folder away, his tone stretching like he was begging me. “You honestly have no clue about it, huh?”

“I really don't.” I peeked at the door. “Is it alright if I go, now?”

“I wish I had the footage from that day, but it's still tied up in red-tape.” His chair squeaked as he rolled it forward, then backwards. In every sense, he was telegraphing his frustration. “Do me one more favor.”

“What is it?”

“You think you can't remember anything, but close your eyes and try. I'm counting on you. If you can't give me one tiny bit of info to help close this case... someone else could end up at gun point. And they might not be lucky enough to survive like you did.”

It was a hard dose of reality. “Alright,” I whispered. My heart was flexing over and over. “I'll try. Is there something in particular you're after?”

“Anything. His face, his voice, just anything.”

Scrunching my eyes, I breathed in—held the air. Working through my memory was like digging into a dark cave. I shoved and shoved through the thick black and stifling sand. Somewhere in my skull, there were answers.

In my mind's eye, I glimpsed a gun. It scalded, white hot and aimed at my eye.

Yes.

That was right.

He'd grabbed me, pulled me close, and then he'd whispered... he'd said... Fuck, what had he said. Why had he picked
me,
out of everyone in the bank that day?

My skull was trembling; everything was trembling. I clung to my own arms, hugging tight and fighting off the waves of fear. This was exactly what I'd wanted to avoid. Roose was reminding me of everything I'd buried, forcing it to claw up from the dregs of my mind, making the nightmare real again.

Those eyes...

That voice...

“Miss Willow!”

Roose's palms came down on my shoulders; I'd been about to fall from my seat. Sweat made my shirt cling to me, each breath coming faster and faster.

“Are you okay?” he asked, helping me sit upright.

Firmly, I shoved him away. “Yes, I'm fine.” My smile was frail, I knew he wasn't convinced. “This interview is over.”

“But Miss—”

“It's over. I can't do this.”

Frowning, he moved so I could stand. I held the table, trying to make it clear I was alright without his support. “Please,” he said. “I need you to look over some photos. I need answers, clues, anything to help me catch this man before he does this again.”

Again.

Laralie's words came back to me. “Did he manage to really do it, hack another bank?”

Roose flinched, considering my question. “No, it was just an attempt through their system. But I'm positive it's the same guy as five years ago.”

I was dizzy; I fought not to sit down again.
That man is really back?

Even though he was still swimming in my vision, I looked at him. “Detective,” I said slowly. “Let me give you my cell number. If I think of anything, I'll tell you.”

He puffed up, handing me his pen so I could scribble it on the notebook. “Thank you. Here, my card.” He slid it from his pocket, offering it to me. “If you don't call me first, I'll reach out to you. If that's okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

His grin was polite, but I knew I'd disappointed him. I would have felt worse about that, except my stomach was still knotting and twisting.

When Roose left the conference room, I darted behind him, hurrying the opposite way towards the restroom. I was on the verge of being sick, the back of my throat itching.

Stumbling against the sink, I spun the knob. Water rushed out, my palms cupping it, splashing my sickly pale skin. In the mirror, I saw how drained I looked. It was as if I'd seen a ghost.

In a way, I did.

Those memories. I just... I didn't want them. I wanted that slice of my life to never float up again. In my pocket, my phone buzzed. Drying my hands, I slid it out, reading the screen.

Silver: Go to Lotus Spa on Fourth Street, they'll be expecting you. Bring the dress, you'll wear it tonight. I'm taking you to dinner.

He'd arranged for me to go to a spa,
and
he wanted to have dinner? I liked that way more than our secret sex club encounter.

I typed back,
Sounds like a date.
Before I hit send, I caught myself smiling in the mirror. Silver had taken me from sick and stressed, to giddy and excited in an instant.

Chuckling, I pushed the button, then put my phone away.

This man...

He made it so easy to forget my troubles.

Alexis

T
he spa was on a stretch of downtown that was reserved for high end shops. In other words, a place I rarely explored.

With the box containing my dress under one arm, I strolled through the doors and into the peaceful, wood-wind sounding waiting area. There was a woman at the counter, and she eyeballed me with doubt as I approached.

“Hey there,” I said, feeling out of place. “Apparently I have a reservation or something?”

Her drawn on eyebrows moved higher. “Oh?” With long, manicured nails, she flipped the pages of the book on the counter. “Name?”

Could he have picked a snootier spa?
“Alexis. Alexis Willow.”

She started to smile, but her lips twitched. “Huh. Here you are.” She sounded surprised, double checking the list. Then, in a great show of skill, she put on a huge grin and spread her arms. “Welcome to the Lotus Spa! I see you've been booked for the deluxe package.”

I gripped the box a tad tighter. “I don't know if I'm a deluxe kind of person.”

“Nonsense! It comes with a salt scrub, a manipedi, a sea cucumber soak, and a make-up and hair blow out, as well as a massage!”

It took some effort not to laugh. “Salt and cucumbers? Are you prepping me to be cooked?”

The woman's sour disposition slid back into place. “It's good for your skin. You could use it, honey.”

“I... think I'll take the manipedi and the massage, but lets skip the food stuff.”

Clearly, she didn't know what to do about being told to take features off. Hovering with her hand by the book, she moved her lips but said nothing.

“Ah,” a sweeter voice piped up. Glancing over, I saw a young woman with a blonde bob haircut. She waved, grabbing my free hand gently. “I'm Sarina, I'll be working with you. Come with me, please.”

With a final peek at the still scowling host, I nodded. “My pleasure.”

Sarina pulled me around a corner, the marble floors echoing as we strolled. Around us, various plants decorated the minimal atmosphere, as did a small river that had been cut into one side of the floor.