A Twisted Love Story(24)

“A theme,” Ivy repeated. Now her mind was blank.

Again Coral looked her up and down, a little slower this time. “Nice tan. You spend a lot of time outdoors?”

“Yes.” She and Wes were always out hiking or riding bikes—even more so since they’d started working. Being stuck in an office all day made her want to run out and get some fresh air as soon as she could. Even her hair was lighter from all the sun.

“Summer,” Coral said. “You look like a bright summer day.”

“Okay.” Summer wasn’t a bad name. Ivy could think of worse.

“What are you? 34C?”

“Um. Sure.”

Sort of. Ivy was more like a 34B most of the month, a 34C when she was bloated.

It was one of the weirdest conversations she ever had. The weirdest thing she had ever done, too. The question on her mind was: Could she do it?

Apparently, yes.

Coral dug through a box, pulling out two packages and handing them to Ivy. “Your uniform. You get two free. If they get lost or damaged, you pay for the replacement.”

Ivy took the cellophane-wrapped bags. A small picture of a woman appeared at the top, in the corner, and she was wearing an almost-bikini like the one worn by the waitress on duty.

Hers had been yellow. Ivy’s was sky blue.





21




Bianca gives her computer screen the finger. It doesn’t react, doesn’t give her what she wants, but it makes her feel a tiny bit better. Information isn’t always easy to get, but it shouldn’t be this hard.

Bianca is at work early again, and she’s already found everything she can on the internet. Searched through every post made by Ivy and Wes, read every comment, looked at all the tagged photos on other accounts, and all the free public records. What she can’t get are police reports. For those, she is required to go down to the station and pay a five-dollar fee. Cheap, but she’d have to fill out a form and give them her name.

The only other option is paying for it online through one of the background-check sites. By comparison, not cheap. At least not for the reputable sites.

Human resources uses one to investigate potential employees, but Bianca doesn’t have access to it anymore. Obtaining a single record isn’t expensive, but it’s not like she has any extra money to throw around. She is an assistant, not a sales rep.

What she does have is access to a company credit card. Bianca makes travel arrangements for the reps, orders their business cards, and restocks supplies for the sales department. Using it for police reports for an employee and his girlfriend would be against the rules. So is having a master key, but the credit card would create a record. A paper trail, as the detective might say. One that could get her fired.

Bianca searches the internet for another option, like a free trial. She finds a site called Who’s Done What, which allows her to see if any police records exist, though not the reports themselves. Starting with Wes, she enters his name and birth date.

The site spits out the results: three records.

Three.

She does the same with Ivy. Her birthday is easy enough to find on social media, and Bianca enters the same year Wes was born.

Same result: three records.

Bianca doesn’t believe in coincidences. In her experience, they don’t exist.

She wants to see the reports, wants to know why Ivy is a problem and why a detective came to see Wes. Bianca starts to enter the credit card number, which she has memorized, but stops halfway through, closes the browser, and returns to her work.

Not worth it. There has to be another way. She thinks about it all morning while searching through her contact list, looking for anyone who works for the police department or down at city hall.

Just before lunch, Tanner stops by to ask about the latest. Bianca gives him the usual rundown, he listens and nods, and when she’s done, he leans in close. Like she did the other day.

“And Wes?” he whispers. “Anything new?”

“Not today. He’s been very quiet.”

“He’s in a bad mood?”

“I don’t know,” she says, eyes wide. “He’s been in his office all morning.”

Tanner sighs and glances over at Wes’s closed door. “Good to know.”

“Does that mean something?” she says. She doesn’t normally ask Tanner questions like that, but today she can’t help herself.

“It might.” He smiles at her and winks before walking away.

Something is happening with Wes, something Tanner is aware of. But he isn’t talking. What she wants to do is ask him about Joey Fisher. Specifically about Wes and Joey. But she doesn’t dare.

As soon as Tanner is back in his office, she orders those police reports and charges them to the company card.



* * *



—

Wes doesn’t really see his computer screen. Nothing registers. While he doesn’t feel as angry as he did last night, he also doesn’t feel good. Or even okay. All his emotions are muted, buried under the one that dominates.

Frustration.

Not the sexual kind, either. That would be easier to deal with. No, this is the kind of frustration that makes him feel like punching the wall to get rid of it. Or at least bring the feeling down a few notches.

Ivy didn’t say a word about the dress before work. They went through the usual motions like robots, talking but not saying anything that wasn’t necessary. Is the coffee done? Where’s my other shoe? Have you seen my keys? At one point, Ivy launched into a story about a coworker that seemed like it was supposed to be funny, but neither one laughed.