Ashlyn picked up her backpack, said goodbye to Jessica, and left.
Working part-time as a sex decoy paid well and let Ashlyn work evenings, so she could attend class and study during the day. She was also doing something for her fellow woman by exposing the true lying, cheating nature of men. Except sometimes—and especially this time—her job kind of left her feeling empty and cold, even a little guilty.
She'd had this conversation with her roommates many times. She was not responsible for this marriage ending. She did not entrap men. They made decisions of their own free will. She was just there. But Jessica Montgomery gave the impression of being deeply in love with her husband, and Ashlyn could understand why. He seemed like a nice guy. Really nice. The fact that Ashlyn herself was so fiercely attracted to him was horrifying and embarrassing.
Ashlyn sighed as she dashed through traffic across the sunny street to her parked car. She tossed her backpack onto the passenger seat and started the engine. The heat in the car was smothering, and she rolled down the window.
Yeah, Jessica's husband had been really nice and really hot and really attracted to her, too. She remembered the way his intense dark eyes had locked onto hers, how they'd been so meltingly hot, so compelling. Her intense physical reaction to him had stunned her. She'd gone all warm and liquid inside, her thighs quivering. And then when he'd kissed her—especially that kiss outside when he'd taken her in his arms—a sweet, hot rush of pleasure had flowed through her veins, making her weak and dizzy. He'd smelled so good too; his clean, spicy masculine scent had made her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale him.
He hadn't seemed shifty or nervous or guilty, like many men did when cheating on their wives. Ashlyn had become a pretty good judge of body language and character over years of decoy work, and this guy had almost fooled her.
Having his kitchen renovated! Ha! She'd heard all kinds of stories. Some guys even admitted they were married, just looking for sex. And he'd even used a fake name—Zach. She sighed. The fact that he'd been so convincing just meant he was even more of a snake.
She decided to take the money to the office before going to school, since she wasn't comfortable carrying so much cash around. It wasn't far out of her way and if she was quick, she could still make it to class on time.
Farrell Investigations occupied the tenth floor of a twenty-story office tower. Ashlyn parked in a loading zone and put on her flashers while she ran in. She tapped a foot as she waited at the bank of elevators.
"Hi, Brenda,” she said, out of breath, as she entered the office. Brenda was almost sixty years old with brilliant auburn hair, black-lined eyes and porn-star shiny red lips. She looked tough but had warm eyes, and she dealt skillfully with clients.
"Hey, Ash, honey,” Brenda said. “Your dad wants to see you about another job. He's in his office."
"Oh, sh-shoot.” Ashlyn glanced at her watch. “I don't have much time."
Brenda's glossy red lips firmed. “You're always too busy to talk to him."
Ashlyn swallowed. “I have a class,” she muttered, heading down the hall. She went to the last office at the end, knocked, and then poked her head in. The offices of Farrell Investigations were large, nicely decorated and modern, giving the impression of a successful company. In fact, Farrell Investigations was the largest and best known investigation firm in Rocky Harbor.
"Ash.” Dave Farrell looked up from his computer. In his late forties, he was a big man, tall and barrel-chested, his brown hair frosted with silver. Reading glasses sat low on his nose, and he peered at her over them. “How did it go the other night?"
Ashlyn knew her dad intensely disliked her working as a sex decoy, but she was good at it, so he allowed it. He also knew better than to forbid his daughter to do something—that would only make her want to do it even more.
"Great,” Ashlyn answered. She didn't want to share her strange feelings about these clients with her dad. She'd gotten the goods, handed the evidence over and been paid. That was what mattered.
She tossed the envelope of cash onto his desk. “That's from the wife. Payment in full. Case closed."
He grimaced. “Good work.” He reached for a file folder on his desk and held it in his hands as he studied her. “I have another one, but ... you sure you want to do this?"
Ashlyn tensed. They weren't going to go down that path again, were they? She so did not have time for this. Time or energy. Her voice was firm when she replied. “I'm sure, Dad. What is it?"
He handed over the folder, and she flipped it open and scanned the documentation. “Can you meet with Mrs. Van Heusen this week sometime?"
"Sure,” she said. “But I have to go right now. Applied Crypto class."
"I thought you might have time for a coffee..."
She shook her head, determinedly ignoring the disappointment on her father's face. He kept making efforts to recover their relationship, but it just wasn't going to happen. Not after what he'd done to her mother. “Sorry. Gotta go."
"How was your test the other day?” he persisted.
"Ninety-two percent."
He beamed. “Atta girl."
His praise only annoyed her. She saluted him with the file folder. “Bye, Dad.” And she was off at a run, as usual, to get to school on time. She'd look at the file later and call the wife to arrange a meeting.
"Leaving already?” Brenda asked as Ashlyn zipped through the small reception area.
Ashlyn spared a smile for the woman. Brenda was nice, and it wasn't her fault she worked for a cheater. “I'm late for class!” She barely registered Brenda's sigh on her way out.
It was short notice, but Mrs. Van Heusen was sure her husband was going to be at a party at the Bonaventure Hotel in downtown Los Angeles on Friday night. She herself was not attending due to a family engagement.
Ashlyn was good at matching her look to the occasion. It was like putting on a costume and playing a role. She pulled out her black cocktail dress and spiky stilettos for tonight's job. Her elegant up-do made her look a little older than her twenty-four years, and she added glittering earrings that looked like real, huge diamond studs. She carefully made up her face with smoky eyes and red lipstick. Satisfied with her appearance, she picked up the evening bag, complete with tiny digital camcorder, and left for the party.
It could be awkward going into these things alone, but it was the only option. Besides, Ashlyn was used to it. As she entered the hotel ballroom, she smiled and picked up a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. Then when his back was turned, she furtively dribbled most of the champagne into a potted palm. Those two beers the other night had almost done her in. God, she hated beer. It was disgusting skunky stuff.
Her eyes moved over the elegantly-dressed crowd for her mark. The guests were mostly men in expensive dark suits, although some women in cocktail dresses and diamonds—probably real—and exotic perfume mingled with them. Muted piano music tinkled beneath the murmur of many voices. Finally, she spotted Derek Van Heusen in a conversation with two other men, recognizing him from the photos provided by his wife. She smiled and made her way over to him.
She stood with her back to him, moving slowly backward ... one step ... another ... “Oh!” She whirled around at the bump of contact.
"Sorry!” She flashed her most brilliant smile.
"No, I'm sorry. I hope you didn't spill your champagne,” Derek Van Heusen apologized.
"No, no,” she assured him. “I'm fine.” She paused and looked at him. “Aren't you Derek Van Heusen?"
He nodded and smiled, but looked politely inquisitive. “Have we met?"