Temptations - The Complete Series Page 3

  Yeah, it was immature of me to think that way, but, dammit, if I was going to be put out, so should he.

  I arrived at the house, which was a modern glass and stone home that was built like a series of cubes. The woman, Evina, answered the door, the two little dogs in her arms. “You must be Serena,” she said. “Come in, come in.” She stepped aside, and I entered the foyer of the house. She handed me the two dogs, which were puppies, to my surprise. I thought that they were fully grown, but they clearly were less than two months old.

  I stood there with the two dogs in my arms, reveling in their puppy smell and puppy breath. Nothing smelled better to me than those two scents, and these two little girls emitted these smells in spades. I put my fingers in Gigi’s mouth, and her tiny body wriggled with delight while her sharp puppy teeth found my fingers and chomped down excitedly. While Gigi delightedly made mincemeat out of my fingers, Bella excitedly licked my face. No doubt about it, these two little baby girls were pure love and joy.

  “Here,” Evina said, giving me a box filled to the brim with toys and blankets. “These are their things. Feel free to change their names if you wish. They’re only around 7 weeks old, so they don’t really know their names yet.”

  I nodded my head. “You have their shot records, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Awesome,” I said, giving her the $500 rehoming fee that she had asked for. These animals were a steal for that money, plus I got the satisfaction of saving them. Not that I really was saving them, of course, because if I didn’t come along, somebody would have snatched them up quickly. Frenchies ordinarily cost around $2,000 apiece. But perhaps they would have been separated if somebody else had adopted them, so there was that. I was keeping them together, and that meant a lot to me, and probably to them.

  Evina handed me a folder that had all their shot records, and showed that they were also de-wormed. She had tears in her eyes as she petted the two dogs, putting her face close to their beautiful scrunched up snouts. “Now you be good with your new momma,” she said, as the two dogs licked her face and tried to bite her hands. They wriggled so much that I had a hard time trying to control them, but I managed to keep a hold of them anyhow. “I’m going to miss you two so much, but I know that you’re going to be in great hands.” She looked at me. “I go through this with every adoption, but it’s a necessary thing. As much as I always end up wanting to keep my little babies, I know that I have to give them up so that I can foster others. There are so many who need it.”

  I smiled and thought that I would love to do what Evina was doing. Fostering animals. Giving them a temporary home away from a shelter while a forever home was being located. If I didn’t have such a demanding job, I probably would do just that when I finally got my new home.

  “Thanks,” I said, and Evina took the box of toys and goodies out to my car. I had picked up a large carrier to put them in for the trip up the coast. I put Gigi into the carrier, and as I prepared to put Bella in there, she peed on me. Evina looked at me with horror on her face, but I just laughed. “Guess she’s excited. And that’s my fault. I really need to let these two little girls go to the bathroom before putting them in there. I can’t believe I didn’t think about that.” At that, I brought Gigi back out, and put a harness on her and Bella. The dogs sniffed around the front yard and finally they both did their business. I brought out a poop bag and picked up the mess, and Evina helpfully took the two bags and offered to dispose of them.

  “Do you need a change of clothes?” she asked me with a worried look on her face. “We look about the same size.”

  I shook my head. “Actually, I have an overnight bag in the car filled with clothes, but I’m fine.”

  “Well, then, you need to come into the house and change,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said, “I would like to change in your bathroom if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” she said. “Here, let me help you put the two girls into the carrier, and then you can change and be on your merry way.”

  I went and changed into some new clothes, putting the old ones into a laundry bag that I had packed in my overnight bag. Then I emerged with fresh clothes and gave Evina a quick hug. “Thanks so much,” I said. “You can rest assured that these two little girls will have a wonderful home.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m going to miss them so much all the same. I really need to get a puppy of my own, but my hands are so full with my foster babies, I just don’t know what to do.”

  I smiled and gave her another hug. “You take care of you,” I said. “You’re a saint.”

  Then I got in my Beemer and left, thinking that people like her in the world gave me a little bit of hope for humanity. However slight of a glimmer that was.

  I arrived at the home of Mr. Bridgewell after midnight, even later than I had anticipated. I had found myself delaying getting to his home. I stopped several times to let the dogs out, and then I stopped for dinner at an Oceanside restaurant, lingering over dessert and a few glasses of wine. Ordinarily I didn’t drink at all when I was driving, but I found myself curiously nervous. Then I felt slightly buzzed, so decided to wait a few hours until my mind was totally clear. In the meantime, I got Gigi and Bella out of the car and brought them onto the patio of the restaurant, after having asked the waitress if this would be okay.

  “That would be fine,” she said. “We welcome dogs here on the patio.”

  So, I brought them out with their harnesses on, and, for the next few hours, I drank water while one person after another came up to them and cooed, oohed and ahhhhd over them. Everyone commented on how adorable they were, and, for their parts, their little bodies wriggled every time somebody came up to talk to them, and they excitedly licked many faces and nibbled on many arms and hands during the course of those few hours.

  Finally, around 11, I left the Oceanside restaurant and headed to the address in Los Angeles. It actually wasn’t Los Angeles so much as it was Malibu, for this privileged sonofabitch lived in one of those gleaming houses made of windows that were situated high on a cliff. I had to follow a winding path to get to his house, and then, when I finally got to where he lived, I had to follow yet another winding path to his home. His house apparently sat on several acres of prime real estate, and, I had to admit, he did have an impressive view. Before I actually rang the doorbell of the enormous three-story home, I took the girls to the edge of the cliff and looked down. Far below, the ocean was crashing against the rocks, and the sound of it made me feel absolutely, positively calm.

  Man, I gotta get me one of these homes. I couldn’t afford a home like this, of course, or anything like it, but I had hoped to get a little fixer-upper bungalow that was close to shore somewhere in the Del Mar, La Jolla or Solana Beach areas. I cursed myself yet again, knowing that I was going to be passing up the steal of a home that was situated in Solana Beach, and the asking price was just under $600,000. Anyplace else, except in Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York, that kind of money would buy a mansion. But in the Solana Beach area, that was the going rate for tiny little shacks that needed a ton of work. So, the fact that I was able to find a three-bedroom bungalow that was fairly roomy, close to the ocean, and only needed cosmetic work done, was a miracle.

  It was a miracle that some other lucky shlub was going to take advantage of, I thought ruefully, and I cursed the name of Mr. Bridgewell once more.

  So, yeah, it was really late, but who cared? I was going to get his candy-ass out of bed.

  I went up to the door and rang the bell. The chime sounded sonorously throughout the home, and I waited there impatiently for him to answer. Or someone to answer. He probably would get a maid out of bed to answer while he slept, I thought. That would be just my luck. Mr. Fancypants probably couldn’t be bothered to answer the door.

  To my surprise, he did answer the door. He opened the door, looking sexier than anybody had a right to be. He apparently had just got out of the shower, as his dark hair
wet and dripping in his face. To my dismay, his features were even sexier in person than they were on the television. His eyes were a piercing green, and his lips were puffier than any runway male model. He was wearing a tight T-Shirt, which showed all his muscles and I could tell that his body was tight and sinewy, like he worked out every day of his life - yet he wasn’t overly muscular. He was just extremely lean and taut.

  I felt myself melting right there on the porch when I looked him in those piercing green eyes. He cleared his hair off his face with one perfect hand, and still he stared at me.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I had totally forgotten how annoyed I was to be coming up to his house, and then felt immediately annoyed that I had forgotten that I was supposed to be annoyed. Who was this jackass, looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a men’s magazine, or out of a Calvin Klein ad? Did he think that just because he had more money than god and had the looks that Greek deity would envy that I was just supposed to melt in a puddle at his feet?

  And, just like that, I was angry again.

  Then he opened his mouth, and I was lost again. “You must be Serena. Well, don’t just stand there,” he said in a gorgeous, sonorous voice. His words were smooth, like melted chocolate. “Come on in. Make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours.”

  Holy fuck. He looked like the personification of sin, and he had the voice to match.

  What was I getting myself into?

  I tentatively stepped through the door, with Gigi and Bella trailing behind, wearing their harnesses and leashes. Mr. Sex-on-a-stick took one look at the two little dogs and his face broke into a huge grin. “Oh, Frenchies, my absolute favorite,” he said. And then he knelt down and put his face right up to Bella’s snout. She licked him furiously, and he laughed and, to my surprise, lay down on the floor. The two dogs attacked him gleefully, their little bodies wiggling madly with joy. Bella barked, the first time I heard her do that, and she commenced attacking his face, biting and licking madly. Gigi did the same, and tried to push Bella out of the way. She apparently was jealous that Bella was getting all the attention, and Bella, for her part, obliged Gigi, who did the same as Bella – nipping, licking and generally attacking Slade’s gorgeous face.

  So much for my plan on annoying the fuck out of Slade. That little plan certainly did backfire, as it seemed that my having these two dogs delighted Slade to no end.

  Finally, he got up off the floor. “Oh, I can’t tell you how happy these two little dogs have made me. I just lost my Great Dane, Sophie. I was going to get a new dog right away, but these two little girls will do for now.” He picked them up, and they commenced to licking his face again. And Bella, of course, right on cue, peed all over him. She seemed to have a habit of that when she got excited, and I covered my mouth so that Slade wouldn’t see that I was trying very hard to stifle my laughter.

  Of course, Slade didn’t mind. In fact, he laughed, too. “Looks like someone is excited,” he said. Then he took the leashes out of my hand and put them on the two dogs. “I’ll walk them.”

  “No,” I said. “I’ll walk them. They’re my responsibility.”

  He grinned. “It’s not a problem,” he said.

  “I’ll come with you, then,” I said.

  Then the two of us went out the front door and onto his property.

  “So, what inspired you to bring these two beautiful girls here?” he asked me as Bella sniffed around some bushes and palm trees before finally squatting. Gigi was sniffing around flowers and shrubs and then she, too, squatted.

  “I had my eye on these two before I came here, and I wanted to make sure I snagged them before anyone else had a chance to,” I said. “I’m sorry that nobody warned you about them.”

  “By nobody, you mean you, right?” he said with a smile.

  “Yes, I mean me, Mr. Bridgewell. Malcolm had no clue that I was going to bring them up here, of course.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you did. You do know that they’ve done studies that show that dogs tend to lower stress levels of the people around them, right? That’s why they take dogs to nursing homes, to cheer everyone up and bring their stress levels down. And god knows I need some stress relief after the week I’ve had.”

  I cocked my head at him. “I notice the absence of news people. I’m surprised. I thought I would have to get through a phalanx of photographers and reporters sticking microphones in my face.”

  “Oh, you’ll see them tomorrow, believe me. I call the police on them all the time, because they can’t come on my property, so they hang out on the street outside the gate. They wait to ambush me, and I always say ‘no comment,’ of course. But I’m always catching them in the bushes and hiding behind trees, so the cops have to come out and chase them away.”

  I nodded my head and tried to focus on him, but it was very difficult. The tight T-Shirt that he was wearing, that showed up every single one of his muscles, was driving me to distraction. I had to remind myself that I didn’t come up here to drool over his body, no matter how gorgeous it was. I was sent up here for a very specific venture, and I felt completely unprofessional for forgetting about it.

  Slade had a way of making me forget about why I was there, that was for sure.

  He had a way of making me forget my own name.

  Concentrate Serena, concentrate. I felt distracted walking next to him, to say the very least. My heart was pounding out of my chest and was almost audible in my ears. My hands were shaking as they held tightly onto Gigi’s leash.

  Slade paused and let Bella go number two.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, “I’ll get the poop bag out.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll get Henry to get that tomorrow,” he said. Then he glanced at Gigi, who followed suit. “And that, too.”

  “Henry,” I said. “Who is that?”

  “My groundskeeper,” he said. “Do you think that I can get this topiary done on my own?”

  I couldn’t see very well, but I focused on the bushes and saw they were, indeed, done in topiary fashion. They were very carefully trimmed to resemble geometric shapes, circles and there were a few that were trimmed to resemble animals. One of the bushes was in the shape of the California bear on the California state flag. Two others appeared to be shaped like two elephants walking on the African Savannah. “Henry is very talented,” I said. “I’m surprised that he doesn’t mind picking up dog poop, in addition to sculpting these amazing animals out of the bushes.”

  “You’d be surprised at what people are willing to do when you pay them enough.”

  “Actually, very little surprises me anymore,” I said, and I meant that. There was one thing that I had learned in my life, and that was that people, in general, will shock the hell out you if you let them. So I tried not to let them.

  The dogs, having done their business, went inside with us. I brought in their carrier, put a soft blanket in it, and put them inside. “Night night little ones,” I said, peeking at them. Within a few minutes, I could hear both of them snoring. It was an adorable sound.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let me show you to your bedroom, and, tomorrow, we’ll get started on the interview.”

  “Thanks,” I said tentatively. He picked up my bags and led me through the house – past an enormous living area with 30’ ceilings and a wall of windows with a fireplace in the middle and a skylight on top. The fireplace was surrounded by a rock wall and the floors were cherry wood. It looked like an interior decorator had designed this room. We also walked past an enclosed pool area that had an Olympic-sized pool, complete with lanes and a diving board. There was also, apparently, a bowling alley, movie theater, and game room with arcade games and a billiard table.

  I had been in plenty of homes in my life, but nothing quite like this one.

  Finally, he showed me to my room, and what a room it was. It had 30’ ceilings and a fireplace and was enormous. The bathroom had a 10-person Jacuzzi tub that was sunken, and a shower that was large enough to fit
a group of people. I put my bags down on the floor and sat on the bed. “Thanks,” I said to him. I felt embarrassed about thinking such evil thoughts about him earlier.

  “Night,” he said, and then simply left.

  I sighed and undressed and got into bed. On my computer was a list of questions that I was supposed to ask him, but I always preferred to wing it. Ask questions according to my intuition, and let it guide me to where I wanted to go. That always served me well when I had trials in the past, and I thought that it would serve me well here.

  I was going to have to keep it together with this guy. I couldn’t let him intimidate me with his looks or his obvious charm. I was never one to let things like that block me, and, usually, things like that didn’t.

  There was one thing that really bothered me about this guy – it was the fact that he was so unruffled, so charming. His sense of humor obviously was intact, and, indeed, his demeanor with me told me that he didn’t seem bothered by any of this. Not by the media attention, not by the fact that he was facing the possible death penalty. None of it seemed to faze him. Unless he was covering up extremely well, it seemed as if he was just living his life and not caring a damn about what he was up against.

  Could he be a sociopath? The classic sociopath was somebody just like this Slade character. - charming and glib. The classic sociopath also has the ability to lie about anything and everything. All sociopaths weren’t violent, although some were. Really, the person who should be here with this guy should be a shrink, not me. Because one thing was for sure – if he was a sociopath, I was going to be taken in by him. As an empath, I had to be working with somebody who had actual feelings. If he was feeling guilt and remorse over the killing of his partner, if, indeed, he killed the guy, I should be able to pick up on that and follow that feeling where it goes. But if he killed the guy and felt nothing? Then I, too, would feel nothing.