Escorting the Billionaire #3(34)

 

“Yeah,” her mother said, exhaling in Audrey’s face. “He didn’t bother me none. I mean, once he told me what I was gonna get.”

 

I pretended to study my phone while Audrey gave me a scathing look.

 

“What exactly are you going to get?” she asked her mother.

 

Mrs. Reynolds looked at me too, possibly waiting for some sort of direction. I continued to study my phone, not wanting to admit anything. Audrey sighed. “Never mind, Ma,” she said, resigned. “I’ll get it out of him later.”

 

It was quiet for a beat. I looked up just in time to see Mrs. Reynolds holding her hand over her chest, clutching at her heart and staring at Audrey’s left hand. “Sweet baby Jesus in the manger,” she said, “is that an engagement ring?”

 

“Yes. It is.” Audrey sighed again. “James and I are getting married. And I’m moving to California with him. And we’re bringing Tommy.” Audrey looked defiantly at her mother.

 

“Well. Huh. Okay,” her mother said, agreeably enough, not missing a beat.

 

Audrey appeared speechless, like the wind had been knocked out of her. “Okay?” She looked suspiciously at me again. “How much freaking money did you give her?”

 

“Enough,” I said innocently.

 

“I know you’ll take good care of Tommy,” Mrs. Reynolds said, interrupting us. “And I’ll come out to visit all the time.”

 

Audrey looked at her in horror, her eyes wide. “Visit… us?”

 

“And stay at a hotel, Miss Holier Than Thou. Your boyfriend—I mean, your fiancé—has made all of that possible.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Audrey said, jerking her thumb at me. “I thought you said he was prick masquerading as a gentleman.”

 

“Yeah, but things change,” her mother said and shrugged. “Except you. You’ll always think you’re too good for me.”

 

“That’s because I am,” Audrey said.

 

Her mother laughed a little, and then took another deep drag. “Well, you are holier than thou. And I’m sure as hell not.”

 

“Being holier than thou’s not for everybody,” Audrey said.

 

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Mrs. Reynolds said, through a cloud of smoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Audrey called Elena from the car and quit. “I’m not coming back to the service, Elena,” she said. The relief was evident in her voice.

 

“You and Jenny both?” the madam wailed. I could hear her from across the car. “Jenny already called me from the island. Jesus, it must’ve been quite a vacation.”

 

“It was, Elena.” Audrey said, lacing her hand through mine. She hung up and turned to me. “I’m officially unemployed,” she said.

 

“In this particular case, it’s really for the best,” I said.

 

Audrey smiled at me but wrinkled her nose. “I’m pretty young to be retired.”

 

“I’ll keep you busy,” I said.

 

“You have to. You promised. Remember the cowboy thing?” she asked.

 

“Can the cowboy thing get retired?” I asked.

 

Audrey laughed. “Maybe. I don’t mind you being the bed, though,” she said, and snuggled against me.

 

“When you put it like that, I guess I don’t either.” I pulled her close to me, not minding at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I have to return those clothes to Elena,” Audrey said later. We were in her room and she was staring at the formidable closet.

 

“Nah,” I said, “I’ll just pay her for them. I’m very fond of that black dress. And I might frame that bikini.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All things considered, I was happier than I thought I could be. Especially because I was about to meet my mother at the airport with two police detectives and Danielle’s parents in tow.

 

I still couldn’t believe that my parents were involved in Danielle’s death. And yet, I did believe it. What my mother had said to Audrey, and the way that she’d threatened her, confirmed my worst fears. I knew in my heart that my mother had done something terrible, even though I still didn’t know exactly what it was.

 

I also believed that my father knew. Even if he’d done nothing to help my mother, I was certain that he’d done nothing to stop her. And that made him guilty and reprehensible, too.

 

We didn’t know what, if any, charges the police would bring. We didn’t know if my father would ultimately be implicated as well. But still. Danielle had been an innocent girl, and her murder deserved justice. For Danielle’s sake, her parents’, and for mine. If we couldn’t have justice, we could at least have some sort of public acknowledgement. Some sort of reckoning.