those dinner theater mysteries, except that I have no character cards, and so far, there’s no body on the floor. But maybe that part is still coming? I eye Connor and then his father, deciding they’re the too-easy suspects. I slide my eyes to Evan, the nice, polite newcomer, and decide he’s either the victim or the murderer of the yet-to-happen pretend death.
An older woman and a young man appear in the dining room doorway, Debra’s face is stony as she leads them in. “Audrey, Ian, this is Poppy, Connor’s fiancée. Poppy, this is Connor’s aunt, Audrey, and his cousin, Ian.”
Ah, the whole picture becomes clear now. If this were a dinner mystery theater, I could now clearly declare ‘the game is afoot!’ This is the aunt and cousin Connor told me about. Interesting that he’s not the only one who seems to hate them, but everyone in the room is noticeably more tense now, even Robert.
Audrey looks a lot like her sister, if you dipped Debra in glitter and then told her to go Rodeo Drive on everything. Her outfit’s clearly designer, her jewelry’s flashy, her makeup is pristine, and her hair is a shade of blonde that only comes from an entire day in the salon chair.
And Ian is somehow just as I pictured him to be—slick and polished looking, a guy who you can tell lives on Daddy’s money and thinks his shit doesn’t stink. I’ve written characters like him before. They always end up being the bad guy or the annoying as hell character who gets put in his place on a constant basis and serves as a distraction from the real bad guy. Funny to think that I’m sitting here with an actual criminal at my side as my fake fiancé, but Ian seems to be the villain in the room.
Audrey pulls up a chair without asking and begins criticizing the dinner she hasn’t even tasted yet. Not that she was even invited to. “Pork roast and potatoes? How quaint and . . . basic. Ian, when was the last time we had a roast? It must’ve been in that little chalet restaurant in Switzerland, right?”
Ian nods, though I don’t think he’s even listening to his mother. His eyes are locked on me. I’m the outlier here, the newcomer who grabs interest, and with my red hair, I’m used to attention. Connor, however, places an arm across the back of my chair possessively like Ian’s sniffing around his territory a bit too much. “Good to see you, Ian. What’re you up to these days?”
Before Ian can answer, Audrey jumps in, bragging about her son. “Oh, Ian purchased another five properties this year. That brings it up to fifty now, I think.” She looks to Ian but doesn’t wait for him to respond. “He’s quite the real estate tycoon. Real estate investment is the only way to go these days,” she tells me arrogantly. “It’s the smart money.”
“That’s true,” Connor says generously. But then, he sends the bomb he set himself up for. “All you need is Mommy and Daddy’s money to buy property and a management company to do all the work. It’s a foolproof gig, if you can get it.”
It hits home, and Audrey makes a sound of huffed displeasure. “Well, it’s better than being a thug.”
“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” Connor says, refusing to be drawn in at Audrey’s level. “We’re all stealing in our own ways. I’m sure the people Ian buys from think he’s quite the con man, buying their houses for bottom dollar, slapping a couple of hundred bucks’ worth of paint and some polish on them, and then renting them back out at top dollar. At least I’m honest about what I do.”
Not thinking, I place my hand on Connor’s thigh and squeeze. “What you did, sweetheart. You’re reformed now, remember?”
It feels good to remind Connor of the story he told me he’d shared with his parents, of a fiancée who helped him find the straight and narrow and become a business consultant.
I wonder what it would it take to make Connor’s lie a reality.
He looks down at my hand on his leg. His very muscular, thick thigh that I want to squeeze again. As I’m trying to decide if he wants me to remove my hand, Connor covers it with his own, holding me in place. “Yes, reformed. But let’s be real . . . business is a cut-throat world, and we’re all crooks to some degree.”