Page 16 of Shattered Hearts

“You guys live pretty simply out there. Just be careful of delivery men and service people who don’t have anappointment. The morning Savannah Mesa committed suicide, a technician supposedly working for the power company did work in their house.”

“Okay. I decided to take spring semester off and canceled my classes. Until we figure things out, I think we should close ranks and keep her safe.”

My throat burns. It means a lot to me people love Zarah as much as I do. “Thanks.” My voice is raspy and rough. Self-consciously, I look away and sip my wine.

Despite the lunch Willow served us, we eat our way through the platter of cheese and grapes in companionable silence. I like Stella. I think she has spunk and won’t put up with Zane’s shit. I think if something’s going on, she’ll be a big help getting to the bottom of it.

When our glasses are empty and the cheese is gone, she says, “Do you want to come out to the house? You can bring Baby.”

I groan. “I really, really want to, but I can’t. Pop and I have other cases to work on, and as much as I want to spend all my time with Zarah or look into what’s going on, I can’t afford it. You’ll have to pick up some of my slack.”

It’s too bad, too, because among working, seeing Zarah as much as I can, and cleaning out Max’s apartment, my free time to look through the lockbox Max left me and read more of his journal is slim to none. Even now, as Stella and I sit and sip wine, Pop’s working a case I wanted to pick up. It sucks to have to choose. It also sucks I’m going to have to put off driving up to the state pen to talk to Black, and, at some point, I’d like to have a little chat with Rourke, man to man, and hope I can keep my fist out of his face. Plus, you know, I’d like to get some sleep.

“What if I paid you?” Stella asks, leaning forward, but looking over my shoulder, afraid to meet my eyes, afraid of what I’ll say.

“You want to pay me to date Zarah?” The idea curdles my stomach. “I’m not a gigolo.”

“I’m not saying you are. Look, I understand what it’s like to worry about rent and bills. I bought my clothes at thrift stores and didn’t have anything brand new until Zarah took me shopping, and then I didn’t feel like those clothes belonged to me. They were hers because she paid. So, I get it. You have a truck payment. You worry about your credit score. You’re a normal person and you buy groceries. If you’re hungry, food doesn’t simply appear and you don’t have someone in your kitchen waiting to cook it for you, either.”

I laugh. How easily Stella sees me because she used to live my life.

“I would work through my lunch hour for the overtime to afford tomatoes. I never would have been able to put together a salad like the one Willow made us. Especially not at this time of year. How much do you charge per hour?”

“Depends on the job. Depends on who hires us. Thirty to fifty, maybe more. We don’t price gouge the rich—even if they can afford it—and we try to cut low-income clients some slack if they need us.”

“Okay. I’m not saying I want to pay you to spend time with Zarah, but if you’re going to be snooping into things on her behalf, that’s going to take some time away from the jobs you can charge for. Let me reimburse you. Does that sound fair?”

Uneasily, I shrug. No matter what kind of explanation Stella comes up with, accepting money from the Maddoxes is going to feel weird.

She sighs and rests her hand on top of mine. A dainty gold diamond ring glitters in the light shining over our table. “If you marry her, the money won’t disappear.”

“It’s different for you, though.”

“Because I’m the woman, the little wife?”

“Fuck. No, that’s not what I meant.” But I did.

“Yes, it was, but I understand what you’re saying. I don’t work, Zarah doesn’t work. If I pay you, you’re working, but not bringing in any money. When Zane goes to the office every day, he’s the only one working. I would love to help him. Contribute to a company that will one day belong to our children, maybe your children, too, but the only position my skills would land me is back in the payroll department. What good would that do? Zane could reinstate me as his executive assistant, but Peggy knows more about what he needs in her little finger than I do in my whole body. At this point, I’d only be a liability.” She pauses. “Besides, it gives him peace of mind to know I’m with Zarah. That should matter most.”

Point taken. “Only until I can figure out what’s going on.”

“I can accept that. Then what happens will be between you and Zarah.”

“Okay.” Reluctantly, I agree. I hate the thought of using Zane’s money to pay my bills, but Stella’s right. The Maddox family fortune isn’t going away. When I fell in love with Zarah, I fell in love with all that came with her.

She pulls a checkbook out of her purse, and in pretty, even script, writes me out a check for fifteen thousand dollars. “This is for three months plus expenses. I don’t expect you to stop working other cases, but I’d be grateful if you gave this top priority. I hope to God you don’t need that long, but I have to be honest. I don’t know what we’re looking for or what we’re up against. We hardly know anything except we think Zarah should be getting better and she’s not. That’s not a lot to go on.”

She carefully rips off the check and writes out another payable to Pop. “I want Linc to help you when he can. I saw the way he protected Zarah from Rourke at Max’s award dinner. Thank God Zane had gone to the men’s room or Rourke wouldn’t be alive right now.”

“You saw that?” I shouldn’t be surprised. Stella sees everything.

“Yeah.” She slides the checkbook into her purse and zips it closed.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“For one, I try to let Zarah fight her own battles, and two, you were there. If Rourke has a problem with your girlfriend—”

“Fiancée.”

---