Her Billionaire's Murder Mystery - Stephanie Fowers Page 0,33

walked into the lobby with Veronica leaning heavily on his arm. He’d dropped the suit tonight in favor of a black shirt unbuttoned on the top and expensive suit pants with a subtle pinstripe of silver running down the length. It accentuated his long, muscular legs. Veronica was in another one of her red dresses, this one silk.

Mollie’s eyes narrowed into slits. With difficulty, Charly stopped herself from nudging her friend from her angry stance. Aaron and Veronica weren’t a thing. At least she didn’t think they were. Maybe nothing he’d said had been real.

Aaron looked to be in a foul mood. The evidence of a rough day was in his face. He hadn’t shaved since she’d last seen him, and when his eyes met hers, they were stormy like a tempestuous ocean. She swung away from him, trying to heed Mollie’s advice and not dwell on how gorgeous her brooding villain was.

Mikey thrust his fists to his sides and swaggered over to his two friends, easily starting the Murder Mystery by thrusting a finger into Aaron’s chest. “I suppose you ain’t gonna make this easy on us by just admitting who done it?” He included the rest of the group with his sharp glance. “I know the murderer is here. Why don’t you fess up?”

Mollie’s eyes rounded at Mikey’s fantastic performance. She looked completely blown away. Charlize dug into her purse for her lines. She’d actually practiced some of them today and had been completely dismayed when Mikey had delivered her new ones half an hour before the performance. She hadn’t had any time to go over the new script. At least her lines were further down the paper.

Dominic and Darcy were first, and they both argued like they had when coming down the stairs, this time on who hated Mr. Tweed more.

“He wasn’t my friend, don’t get me wrong,” Darcy said, “but why should I kill him when I don’t have anything to hide? Everybody knows what kind of girl I am. But you, Dominic, you’ve got a reputation to keep up.”

Talk about being typecast for their roles. Mikey hadn’t missed a thing—from Darcy’s fiery manipulations to Dominic’s cold jealousy. If Charly hadn’t taken over her character from someone else, she’d be worried that her role had been tailored specifically for her too.

Mikey approached Veronica next. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Sugar. It’s funny—for how much you value truth, you’ve sure been hiding from it lately. I couldn’t help but notice your last name, Veronica... your real last name. You’re Mr. Tweed’s niece. Ain’t ya? And he put you in his will.”

“How did you kno—!” She turned her huge green eyes on him, her diamonds swinging at her ears. “That means nothing. I loved my uncle. He was a good, kind man.”

“Then why warn us about him ratting us out?” Mikey asked. “Almost like you wanted someone to frame after you poisoned him. I knew you were up to something the moment you walked into this club.”

Veronica bit her reddened lips and didn’t speak as she seemed to get lost in Mikey’s gaze. Wow. These two either had something going on or they were caught up in their performance.

Charly was so swept up in their drama that she’d forgotten hers for the moment, until Aaron took her arm in his warm grip and hustled her to the side. “You’re in way over your head, Charly. You know that, right?”

A shiver ran through her at the truth of his words, and she touched the necklace that he’d given her. “I am?” She located her line in the paper. “Mr. Mills, thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.”

“Where’s your brother?” he pressed.

“My brother? He’s not here yet.”

His eyes sought hers and he caught her gaze. “Is he really coming for you or did something happen to him?” He took her hand. His muscles bulged against his black sleeves, reminding her of the strength she’d felt in his arms when he’d kissed her. “C’mon, Charly, you can talk to me.”

“Can I?”

His forehead creased with such concern that for a moment, she wished that she could trust the real man like she could the private detective that he pretended to be. Aaron cast an accusing look at Mikey over her shoulder—whether it was retribution for the mushy lines or for his role, she’d never know. His tortured gaze slid back to her. “What do you say?”

Charlize swung around, spying the dreamy expression in Mikey’s eyes. He’d definitely