“Oh,” Nigel said. “This isn’t about my connections is it, Mr. Caldwell? You have something else in mind for us tonight?”
“What? No. I mean, yes, it is about your connections. Eyes up here,” I said.
“Did Master Tanner do that to you again?”
“No.”
Nigel’s eyes traveled down to my groin again.
“Nigel, focus. Like I said, I could have just told you this via text, but you insisted on meeting. I need to find dirt on Poppy. That’s it. I just need something on Poppy that will make her leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone? In what way?”
“In the way of making me not need to fake date her. I just need something that either connects the Pruitts or Cannavaros to murders they’ve been behind. Or money they’ve laundered. Or any laws they’ve broken. Or shady business dealings. Or something. Anything.”
“You’re only faking with her?” he asked, ignoring what I was asking for.
“Yes.” I thought Tanner would have told him that.
Nigel shook his head. “I will take care of it then, Master. I mean, Mr. Caldwell.”
This was getting hella creepy. “Okay, great.”
“Give me 48 hours to serve you.”
“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll make sure to remove your plus one from the modern Thanksgiving feast as well.”
I didn’t bother correcting him. I had a feeling that if he knew about Kennedy, he wouldn’t help me out of this mess with Poppy. And I really needed his help.
“Is there anything else I can help with?” Nigel asked.
If he was talking about helping me with my boner, he actually already had. Talking to him had made it disappear in a flash. “Nope, that’s it.”
“Do you want to share a taxi back home? I have some free time. We could play a round of cards. Or I can draw you a bath and we can chat.”
I couldn’t help but think about the fact that he had time for this but not for helping me move out. That didn’t matter right now though. I needed him to be on my good side, and calling him out would probably not help matters. “I wish I could, Nigel…”
He looked so excited.
“…But I have a stupid date with Poppy tonight. Boy do I wish I had some dirt on her so I wouldn’t have to do stuff like this. And have more time for my new friend.” I lightly tapped him on the shoulder.
He looked more excited than before. “So that we can have more time together.” Nigel nodded. “I will get to work. What time will you be home tonight?”
“Um…midnight?”
“Perfect. I’ll have your bath ready.” He hailed down a taxi.
“Nigel?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for this. I owe you one.” What the hell possessed me to say that? I didn’t want to owe him anything.
“Anything for you, Mr. Caldwell.”
I nodded. “Just email me anything you find out right away.”
“Email? I prefer faxing.”
I just stared at him. “Why? Faxing is the absolute worst.”
“Oh. When did that happen? I thought everyone faxed things.”
“Maybe like twenty years ago.”
Nigel nodded. “Right, faxing is the worst. Don’t you think? It’s terrible. I agree with you 100%. Who would want a piece of paper that you wanted to immediately show up with very little work? Lame.”
Okay.
“But forget texting and stupid faxing. It’s best to do this in person. We don’t want to leave a trail. I’ll text you the time and place we can meet once I find what you are seeking.”
“Sounds good, Nigel.”
A taxi pulled up in front of him. “Have a pleasant evening. Text me if you’ll be late for your evening bath.”
“Will do.” I was pretty sure I’d just promised him a favor. And to meet up with him in 48 hours in some most likely weird way. And that we had another bath date tonight. I shrugged. It was worth it. Getting my life back was worth it. Kennedy was worth it.
Nigel rolled down the window. “And if Master Tanner asks where I am, tell him I’m picking up the dry cleaning. This is going to be our little secret.” He winked at me.
It’s going to be worth it, I reminded myself. I smiled and winked back. For some reason I even pointed finger guns at him. Apparently I’d lost my fucking mind.
He pointed his own back at me. “Pew, pew! Secrets!” He blew on his pointer fingers like his gun was smoking.
I couldn’t even make fun of him. I’d started that weirdness. And now I had a weird secret thing that Nigel and I did together. What had I just done?
The taxi pulled away.
I’d worry about how to get out of a bath chat later. Right now I had to go appease Poppy for the last time.
Chapter 42
Friday
“What the hell are you wearing?” Poppy grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards the ballroom entrance.
“I didn’t have time to change,” I said.
“I told you to wear a tux and you don’t even have a suit jacket?” She looked like she wanted to scream. “It doesn’t matter. Hopefully everyone will be staring at my dress.” She stared at me like she was waiting for me to comment on how she looked.
The answer…she looked fine. I wasn’t attracted to her. At all. I couldn’t help it, but whenever I looked at her I saw Isabella. I’d never been attracted to Wizzy either. “Or you could just tell everyone the truth. That you’re blackmailing me and I had no choice but to be here tonight.”
“Very funny. Just stand there and look pretty and don’t say a word.” She pulled me back into the ballroom. “God, people are staring.”
She’d told me not to speak, so I didn’t bother telling her that people were probably staring at her because she was demon spawn.
“Maybe someone took off their jacket before dancing.” She perused the room for a jacket to steal.
“I’m not going to wear an ill-fitting stolen jacket.”
“So now you care what you look like?” She leaned in to whisper. “This wasn’t part of the deal. You’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t actually remember impeccable dress being part of the deal.”
“New amendment. Dress better.”
I looked fine. Why did people always diss my clothes? “If I’m embarrassing you, I’m happy to leave.”
“Not until Uncle Richard sees us being a happy couple. Come on, let’s find him.” She grabbed my hand, her nails digging into my palm. She probably didn’t even realize her fake nails were stabbing me.
I wasn’t sure what was worse…being clawed to death by Poppy or having to see Mr. Pruitt. The last time I’d seen him, I’d said a lot of nasty, albeit true, things. He brought out the worst in me. But tonight I had to be on my best behavior. Angering him wasn’t going to help matters. It would probably just lead to Poppy realizing a relationship with me was useless and offing Scarlett without any kind of deal. That couldn’t happen.
“Where did he go?” Poppy asked. “I swear he was just here.” She froze. “You know what? I have a great idea to pass the time while we wait for him. Let’s dance.” She pulled me to the dance floor, moved my hands to her hips, and laced her fingers behind my neck. Her eyes darted around, searching for her uncle.