Fatal Attraction (Dark Desires 4)
“That would be a first,” he said. “What do you have in mind?”
Chapter 29: Conner
I called my old college pal, Andy Whitlock, to ask him the name of the beautiful black girl he had been with on New Year’s Eve. She was Mollie the paralegal’s —Katie’s— best friend. Katie had mentioned her name a time or two, but I was not the best at paying attention to small talk. I found it hard to focus when Katie was in the room. I would watch her lips move, then my brain would just shut down as the blood drained to more pertinent parts of my body.
Monica, was her name, I thought.
Or Monique or…
Anyway, Andy would know her name. She was an old flame, or so he said, and probably the most beautiful girl he had ever been with. Maybe she could help me get a message to Katie. If my plan worked, Katie would be thrilled to hear from me and give me the chance to make things right. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Her name is Monique Griggs,” Andy said with a hint of irritation in his voice. I had caught him leaving his office and he was talking to me while trying to find his car in the parking garage. “Why do you want to know? You run out of other girls to charm, old pal? Now you’re trying to horn in on my ladies?”
“Nothing like that,” I said. “I’m actually trying to get in touch with the girl I went home with that night. She said her name was Mollie. Anyway, it’s a long story, but I need Monique to help me track her down.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me everything?” Andy asked. “Come on, old buddy, give it up. What’s going on? Did she leave you with a raging case of crabs?”
I had forgotten what a dick Andy could be.
I said, “Nothing like the case of crabs your sister gave me, thank God.”
He chuckled. I heard a car door slam. The car dinged as he stuck in the key to start it up. “Then why do you need Monique to help you track her down?”
“Look, Andy, I don’t want to waste your time with boring details,” I said. “Do you know where Monique works or not?”
“Sure, she’s an associate at Yates Hamilton & Booz right there in the Big Apple, probably a few blocks down from your office.”
I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. She was Katie’s best friend. Where else would she work?
I said, “She’s an associate at Yates Hamilton & Booz? I’ll be damned.”
“Yeah, so why do you need to talk to her?”
“I can’t talk right now, Andy,” I said. “Text me the next time you’re in New York City and I’ll buy you a beer.”
“Okay, pal, take care.”
I hung up the phone and leaned forward to tell my driver where to go.
Fifteen minutes later I was standing on the sidewalk outside of Yates Hamilton & Booz waiting for Monique Griggs to emerge.
* * *
I didn’t have to wait long. I had called Yates Hamilton & Booz on the way over, and asked to speak to Monique Griggs. I told her who I was, and she told me to fuck off and die. Monique had quite a colorful vocabulary for a young attorney.
“Look, Monique, if you care about Katie’s happiness, you need to come outside and talk to me. Please. Just give me two minutes of your time. Please.”
She was silent for a moment, then sighed and said, “Fine. I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
Though New Year’s Eve was now just a blurry memory, I recognized her immediately when she came out the front door and headed across the sidewalk toward my car.
Monique Griggs was a beautiful black girl, statuesque, with long legs and a voluptuous body, and eyes that shot darts into my face as she approached. I opened the car door and stepped aside to let her slide into the back seat.
“You have two minutes, asshole,” she said after I slid in after her and closed the door. She held up her left wrist and tapped the crystal of her watch with a long fingernail. “Starting now.”
“That’s more than enough,” I said, sitting in the seat sideways to face her. “I need to talk to Katie. I need to explain.”
“So, talk to Katie. Why are you bothering me?”