“I’m only telling you this, because…” Takako dusted the gold on Zola’s face some more. “Because Z told me you were her new bodyguard, but better than Rico. More like James Bond.”
“And what character would Rico be?” I asked.
“Austin Powers.” They shrugged.
Zola shook her head and appeared to be holding in a laugh.
Takako finished up in silence, and I studied them some more. They had long black hair that fell to the waist. I was sure they had Japanese parents. There was a subtle distinction among Asian ethnic groups that one with a heart and brain took time to understand and note.
Definitely Japanese. But where did they come from, and could they be the stalker?
Slim body. Small breasts and broad arms. Tall for a woman, but too slim and curvy for a man.
“I know what you’re thinking now.” Takako put the brush down and smirked.
I tilted my head to the side. “What am I thinking?”
“You’re wondering, if you would do me.”
“I’m not.”
“You will.”
I won’t.
Scanning the area, I checked for everyone else.
Alexander had disappeared.
Where did he go?
“I’ll be right back.” I left Zola and searched for him. It took no time to find him in Zola’s bathroom. He hadn’t even locked the door as he leaned forward and had his face over the counter.
I cleared my throat.
“I’m almost done.” He rose and glanced over his shoulder.
The whites of his eyes showed stark around the irises. His gaze held a doll-like appearance, lifeless and still. I looked at the counter and confirmed what I’d already thought.
A line of cocaine lay on the surface.
I held my hand up. “Take your time.”
“I sure will. This is good stuff. Want some?”
“No.”
“Cool.” Alexander bent over, sucked up the line in less than a minute with his right nostril, and then shook his head. “I just needed a few bumps to prepare for the night.”
I nodded, used to this sort of thing. Drugs went with money. The whole time a person was broke, they solemnly believed that they would be happier when they were rich. And then the money came, and their depression and darkness never left. The extra dollars didn’t make them happy, but at least they now had money for drugs.
I shut the door and waited for him to leave.
While Alexander’s cocaine habit was unsettling, I doubted a druggie could pull off a good stalking. Statistics showed that many stalkers didn’t use illegal drugs. They hallucinated enough without them. And if they did take a drug, it was a good ole prescription one—worse than the natural stuff and way more addictive.
I don’t think it’s him, but I can’t be too sure. After that fiasco in the apartment, everyone is going to be watched.
Alexander came out rubbing his nose. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
“Damn. That suit is just off the Brioni fall collection’s runway.” Alexander spotted me and looked like he wanted to touch my jacket, but thankfully didn’t it. “Bluette herringbone. Condotti cashmere jacket. Yes, sir. Do it.”
“Thank you.” I nodded at Alexander. “I respect a man with good taste.”
“Me too.” He adjusted his tie and walked out.
I went to the bathroom, checked the sink. If he was the sicko, he might’ve rummaged through the area himself or even left something. I found no sign of snooping.
When I returned, Takako had been continuing their work.
Zola gazed at me from the mirror’s reflection. While her expression appeared neutral, her eyes heated with lust.
Or am I just imagining this?
“We’re almost done.” Takako finished painting a masterpiece on that already perfect face.
Minutes later, Alexander announced it was time to leave.
I had the car brought around. Her best friend, CiCi, as well as the rest of the team followed, and we headed to the limo. At my shock, a few tumbled into the car with us. The stylist continued to move different strands as if her hair had gotten destroyed during the journey from the suite to the car. Alexander fanned her. Another scanned her phone, tracking the red carpet footage for the album release.
“Girl, nobody is coming like you,” CiCi said. “You’re going to kill it.”
“Okay.” Alexander snapped. “Let these bitches know.”
Zola gave them a weak smile, glancing at me every few seconds, before gazing out of the window. Tension filled the air between us, but I doubted the others noticed as they continued to primp and paw on her.
How can she deal with this? I’m already tired of them, and it’s only been a few hours.
We arrived at the nightclub in no time.
When we left the car, I offered my hand to her, half being a gentleman and the other half testing how she might feel about me after my confession. She took my hand, almost as if it was a lifeboat, stopping her from drowning.
She leaned in. “Thank you.”
The sweet fragrance of her surrounded me. “Always.”
“Sorry about my team. They can be a bit much.”