Losing Her (Lost and Found Book 1) Page 2

  “What did I do this time?” I asked, annoyed.

  “The men’s bathroom.”

  My lashes fluttered against my cheeks as I looked down in shame. He found out anyway.

  Damn.

  “ I didn’t know it was the men’s room. I just went to the nearest one. I had to pee.”

  “Did you forget that your father just announced his candidacy?

  That this place is crawling with cameramen and reporters? That he’s running against an opponent who may have sent someone here to look for dirt to use in the campaign?”

  I could feel his eyes on me, burning holes into the top of my head, as I refused to look up at him. He squeezed my hand, “Look up at me.” My eyes, wide and brimming with tears, snapped up to look at his blazing ones. The honey coloring looked like fire against the brown. “Did you think about any of that?”

  I shook my head. I hadn’t considered any of that tonight. This was just another party that I didn’t want to go to in the life I didn’t want to be living. Being in the spotlight of this small town was too much for me.

  Having Jason and the rest of the town criticizing my every move was exhausting.

  “Of course you didn’t. You never do.” He looked over my head, smoothing his face over to cover his anger as we danced at the edge of the party, “You only think about yourself. You’re selfish and ungrateful Alina. You’ve never done anything for yourself and you feel entitled to do as you please. And then I have to come in and clean up your little mess.

  Do you know how much your bathroom stunt just cost us? Fifteen thousand dollars. Fifteen! That’s how much I had to use to pay off the paparazzo who snapped a photo of you and some guy coming out of the same bathroom within minutes of each other.”

  My eyes were frantic as I listened to him rant. Fifteen thousand dollars because someone snapped a photo? I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “Furthermore, I don’t think your mother or father would be happy to find out that you were being a filthy slut at this banquet,“ he sneered.

  The song ended and transitioned to a new one, but he held onto me. I’m sure he could feel the thrumming of my heart as it pounded against my chest. “And you’re not denying it,” he scoffed.

  Words jumbled in the back of my throat, but I couldn’t speak. I just wanted to get out of there. And fast. Just as the thought entered my mind, Jason let go of me. I nearly tumbled backward as I fell away from him.

  “I will get my fifteen thousand dollars out of you, Alina. We’re going to talk about this tomorrow,” he promised, but it sounded more like a threat. He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there trembling from the intrusion.

  My chest heaved from my labored breathing. I had to leave. I couldn’t do this anymore. I fled toward the back of the banquet hall, looking for a way out. I pushed on the heavy glass door as it spun around and opened, dumping me outside in the humid air. A lone driver was leaning against his black town car, lazily smoking a cigarette.

  Perfect.

  Chancing one last glance at the revolving door, I hesitated for a moment. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was spoiled and entitled. And I had definitely never had to do anything for myself. Flames of anger mixed with determination and defiance burned in my chest. It was time for a change.

  TWO | Derrick

  A sprawling golden brown estate loomed before me as I maneuvered my black truck up the long and winding driveway. Multiple buildings surrounded by thick, tall trees — for privacy I assumed— and tucked away from any prying eye. The front of the house was easily a mile off the main road. The entire layout was impressive. If you didn’t want to be found, this was where you would go.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth as I parked in front of the main house. My music, already turned down from when I left the interstate, crooned softly in the background as I took in all that laid before me.

  This client had money. Lots of it. And from the looks of it, it was old money. The kind that was passed down from generation to generation and never ran short. My heart rate quickened and thumped in my chest as I considered the possibilities.

  I really needed this account.

  Not just for the professional benefit. There was no doubt in my mind that if I did the job well, this client would refer me to any of their rich friends. People like this always had secrets and a need for someone else to do the digging for them. My main concern was taking care of my personal life and all of the bullshit I had endured over the last few years.

  Over in the passenger seat, my phone vibrated against the leather. Fifteen minutes until the client was expecting me. I grabbed my

  leather portfolio and my cell phone and began my confident stride up to the front of the house. Anxious or not, I needed to present a poised and tough exterior. In the last five years as a private investigator, I had never let a client see my sweat. And I wasn’t about to start now. Quickly, I opened my portfolio and glanced down at the client file. I had spoken to a male over the phone, but was told that my meeting would be with a woman. Scanning my scribbles, I searched for the name I’d written down.

  Vivian Prescott.

  A few short moments after the bells chimed throughout the house, I heard the click of the lock unfastening. The door opened and I was face to face with an older woman with skin the color of almonds.

  Her jet black hair was pulled up and away from her face, secured into a tight bun on top of her head. She wore a royal blue sleeveless dress that fit her slim figure just enough to be classy, but still sexy. Around her neck, a simple silver chain and diamond laced cross large enough to be expensive, but still fitting for her narrow figure. Her eyes, piercing and black, were a perfect contrast to the color of the dress.

  She smiled warmly at me stepping forward and extended a hand, “Mr. Williams, I presume?”

  I swallowed, “Yes ma’am. Derrick Williams.” I reached forward and met her warm hand for a firm, but gentle handshake.

  She beamed back, “Hello darling. I’m Vivian. Come on in and we’ll get started.” She stepped back, allowing me to walk through the front door.

  My eyes needed no adjusting to the open and bright interior of the house. Floor to ceiling windows allowed the natural light of the world to come in and illuminate nearly every piece of interior design.

  Traditionally modern, the decor of the house looked comfortable and warm, but I could tell it was expensive. She led me through the foyer,

  down a short hallway and into a vast library. Rows of books lined the wall before me. Various photos in frames with faces that looked back at me. Three young children who shared the same features, two boys and one girl. A loving husband and wife. Over to the right, a large brick fireplace painted gray with a large portrait above it. I could see that one of the women in the photo was Vivian. The other took me by surprise.

  Her hair was black and somehow, her eyes were darker. The way the photographer had captured her face made it seem as if she was staring right through the canvas and right at me. Whomever she was, she was beautiful. There was no denying that. But I didn’t come here to stare at her, I was here for a job.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here,” Vivian started as she settled down in a large arm chair, motioning for me to sit on the couch across from her. I set my things down next to me, giving her my full attention.

  “Of course. How can I be of service to you?”

  She smiled and I was vaguely reminded of the girl in the photo.

  That must be her daughter. “It’s not for me, dear. It’s for my family. My husband, Thomas, is poised to run for mayor. We already employ a team of publicists and security guards, but with this new venture, we want to be sure we are absolutely covered from anything that may work against us in the upcoming election.”

  Politics. This was a new avenue for me. But I was game.

  Anything to pad my resume. ”Congratulations. How exactly would I be able to help?”

  Just then, a woman entered the room dressed in a kn
ee length black collared dress with a mini apron tied at her waist. I stifled a smirk at the traditional outfit. I hadn’t had time to do much digging on the Prescott family before I arrived. The call came literally two days ago, with travel details attached to an email once I’d said ‘yes’ to the job offer.

  I’d assumed once I arrived, but it was becoming clearer and more pronounced the longer I sat with Vivian: The Prescott’s were wealthy and well-known.

  “Would you like some tea, dear?” The housekeeper set down a tray with a polished silver and ivory tea set with all the necessary components on the coffee table between us. Vivian didn’t even bother looking up or thanking the woman before she sat forward and began preparing herself a cup.

  I frowned slightly at how she was so dismissive of her hired help, realizing I was potentially the next hired hand on her payroll. She looked up at me, expectantly, still waiting for an answer. I nodded, “Yes ma’am.” Her hands, devoid of any noticeable aging markers prepared a cup of steaming tea and she handed it over to me. The tea was rich and brown. A quick smell revealed it to be English Breakfast. I blew the waft of steam to cool it off before taking a small sip. Even without any added sweetness, it was soothing.

  We sipped our tea in silence. Vivian seemed to be oblivious as the time clicked on. She was in no rush to give me particulars on why she needed a private investigator. I focused on my breathing in between gulps of tea to not appear as antsy and impatient as I felt.

  “Ah, Jason. Just who I was waiting for.” Her face lit up as she stared just past my shoulder at the entryway.

  I stood and turned to face the man that had walked into the room. He was about as tall as me, closely cut light brown hair and light eyes. He had a strong build dressed smartly in a gray tailored suit. He extended a hand to me, “Jason Robert Brown. You must be Derrick.”

  We shook firmly and I nodded, “That I am. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” He nodded towards me then turned his attention to Vivian, “As usual, you’re looking beautiful today, Mrs. Prescott.” He planted kisses on her cheeks as her grin spread from ear to ear.

  They pulled away and she rested her hand on his arm, affectionately, “Derrick, this is Jason. He works for our family. Not only as the head of our company’s public relations office, but he’s been our personal family publicist for nearly two decades. This is who you’ll be working with directly.”

  We all took our seats, Jason sitting in the arm chair next to hers.

  “That’s right. With this new campaign, all eyes are going to be on the Prescott family even more so than usual. It’s my job to make sure their image remains intact so what I need from you is pretty simple, though it may not be the most orthodox of practices.” The two exchanged a smile, before he carried on, “You come highly recommended, by the way. So I’m sure I can speak for everyone when I say that we are glad to have you on board.”

  I enjoyed compliments as much as the next guy, but I was curious about this unorthodox job he wanted me to take on.

  “Thank you.”

  He took a sip from the cup Vivian handed to him, “Well, most campaigns are focused on dredging up information on the other candidates to use against them. We’re not about that. The Prescott’s have run several successful companies without having to slander any other individuals or companies and they don’t intend to start now. What we want is to stay ahead of the game and prevent anyone from having anything negative to use against us during the election.”

  I cleared my throat, “So you want me to dig up dirt on you?” I looked back and forth between the two. This was odd, but they were paying full price so I’d do whatever they asked me to do, within reason.

  “It does seem that way doesn’t it?” Vivian spoke up, looking to Jason for clarification.

  “No no no, that’s not what I mean.” He responded, “I want you to be ahead of any potential scandals, make sure we’re aware of anything that may be used so that we can spin it into PR gold. That’s all.”

  For a few moments, they stared at me and I stared back at the both of them. This sounded like the biggest waste of time there ever was. How a family didn’t know about their own secrets and skeletons in the closet, especially with a personal family publicist, was beyond me.

  But again, they were willing to pay my advertised pricing. They weren’t asking me to discount their cost or to break the law. They wanted to hire me to dig into their personal lives, knowingly, and help them win their election. Easy as pie.

  “I can do that,” I answered, finally. This would be the easiest paycheck I ever made.

  By the end of the day, I was sitting at the furnished condo they’d provided, per my contract, staring gap-mouthed at the screen on my phone reflecting my bank balance. They’d wired one hundred thousand dollars into my account after I left the Prescott residence. It was the downpayment that they'd promised for retaining my services for the entire election year. I almost dropped the beer that was dangling in my fingertips.

  I had never seen that much money in my account at one time.

  Never mind that it was triple times the entire years salary for some in the same field. I wasn’t sure who had recommended me for this job, but if I ever found out I would owe them big time. This is exactly the type of job that I needed to get my life back in order.

  a

  Two days later, I was being summoned to Jason’s office. It was located at Prescott Publishing House, just a few minutes drive from the

  condo. I parked the truck and walked through the front doors, greeted by a tall thin blonde woman sitting behind a desk. She stood up as I approached, “Derrick, right?”

  I smiled politely, “Yes ma’am.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Mister Brown is expecting you. You can follow me this way.”

  She moved from behind her front post and walked off, beckoning me to follow her. From my vantage point, she wasn’t just walking. She was sashaying, swaying even. Her figure was rail thin, but she was working whatever curves she thought she had. I’m a man, so of course I looked and, though she was pretty, I wasn’t moved by her.

  We stopped in front of a closed door with his full name embossed on a brass nameplate. She turned and faced me, licking her crimson stained lips, before raising her eyes to mine, “You can go right on in.”

  I took note of where she had positioned herself. She was blocking the doorway. I would either have to brush past her or ask her to move. I almost chuckled with how brazen she was being. Women threw themselves at me often, but I rarely caved. I hadn’t been physical with anyone in over a year and I certainly wasn’t going to start now.

  “Alright then, excuse me,” I said calmly.

  She blinked a few times, processing the news that I wasn't going to move until she left. A huff and hair flip later and was walking back to her assigned post, leaving me free to see the boss. I knocked a few times before I twisted the doorknob and walked in.

  Jason was at his desk, phone held up to his ear listening in on a call. He motioned for me to come in and held up a finger, indicating he’d be with me in a second. I sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk and looked around. He had various certificates and awards on his walls, but other than that his office was devoid of any real character. Even with the

  large window letting in sunlight, the space was dark. Every piece of furniture was black to match the walls. Somehow he had managed to make this large corner office feel smaller.

  “I understand what you’re saying, but this is going to take precedence until we can get it sorted out. This shouldn’t have happened. One of you should have been on her this entire time.”

  He sounded stressed. Whatever it was, I was sure to find out soon. Either he’d tell me or I’d find it on my own. A short minute later, he ended the call without a salutation, pinching the area between his eyes and letting out a long breath.

  “Everything ok?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  He sighed, “Yes,
well actually no. Everything is not ok. That damn girl is going to be the death of me.”

  A girl? I didn’t speak up right away, but I was even more curious. What girl was making his life so difficult?

  “Listen, you work with us now so let me fill you in on something.

  The Prescott’s are great, but their daughter is a piece of work. She’s young and vibrant albeit a pain in my ass. I’m convinced she looks for ways to fuck with me. She’s been that way forever.”

  His eyes seemed to illuminate when he talked about her. He probably didn’t even realize it, but I was trained to notice things like that,

  “Alina Joy, right?”

  “Yes. I see you’re already familiar with her?” he added, raising an eyebrow.

  “Not really,” I wasn’t taking the bait he was dangling. But the truth was, I had done some digging on the girl with the black eyes that saw right through me from a portrait on the wall. She was the youngest Prescott, the only girl, and I thought she was stunningly beautiful.