Tara Sivec - Shame on Me

I’m thinking of wearing jeans and a nice tank top to dinner with Griffin tonight. What do you think?”

I look up at Kennedy as she paces back and forth in front of my desk. Kennedy is going on her first official date with Griffin tonight. They’ve been hot and heavy for a few weeks working on a bail-jumper case and due to some genius thinking on Griffin’s part, he finally got Kennedy to go on a real date with him. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be the highlight of her family’s week, since they’ve wanted the two of them together forever.

“You cannot dress like a hobo to go on a date with Griffin.” I shake my head at her and she rolls her eyes at me.

“Jeans and a tank are not hobo wear.”

“Kennedy, comfort should not be your first order of business when planning your attire for the evening. It should be picking an outfit that makes him want to skip the date just to rip your clothes off.”

Kennedy sits down at her desk in a huff and crosses her arms in front of her.

“This is dumb. We already skipped to that part. Several times. I don’t know why this date is such a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal because it’s romantic and sweet. Griffin wants to treat you well and prove to you that he’s not with you just for sex. Wear something red and show off your legs,” I tell her, powering up my laptop.

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting I wear a dress,” she grumbles.

“You’re wearing a dress. You’re also going to wear heels. Quit your bitching.”

While Kennedy moans and groans about stupid men and something about seeing her in a dress at prom if he wouldn’t have ditched her, I decide against asking her how to find more information on Matt Russo. She’s got enough on her plate tonight. Going right to Google, I type in Matt’s name and wait for the hits to load.

“I’m guessing I can’t just stop at Walmart on my way home and find this red dress you speak of, can I?” Kennedy asks as she grabs her keys from her desk and stands up.

“If you buy a dress from Walmart for this date, I will disown you.”

Turning away from my computer, I dig into my purse, pull out a business card, and hand it to her. “Go to Nordstrom and ask for Alicia. She used to be my personal shopper, you know, before Andy decided all my hard-earned money should be flushed down the toilet. She will find you something amazing.”

Kennedy looks at the card for a few seconds and then shoves it into the back pocket of her jeans as her dad, Buddy, walks through the front door of the office. “I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Except I’m not a hooker.”

“Can you please tell that to my friends at the VFW? They’re still asking me about the escort service ad Griffin ran in the newspaper last week. They’re concerned that you aren’t returning their calls because you used the Google on them and saw that they’re all old as dirt,” Buddy states. “I reassured them that you are a good person and would never discriminate based on age.”

During Kennedy and Griffin’s brief courtship, if that’s what you want to call it, Griffin decided to get back at Kennedy for a joke we played on him by placing an ad in the local paper that said Fool Me Once Investigations was an escort service. Buddy is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it’s not true.

“Dad, still not a hooker. How about you just tell them that?”

Buddy looks at her like she’s insane. “I’m the most popular guy at the VFW right now, Kennedy. People yell my name when I walk in and everyone buys me drinks. I’m not about to kill my popularity. This is the only thing I have to live for. Don’t deny me this.”

Kennedy gives up the argument for today, kisses Buddy on the cheek, and heads out of the office, hopefully to buy a dress.

“Okay, now that she’s gone, here’s the plan for tonight. The whole family is going to stop by so we can see Kennedy and Griffin off on their date,” Buddy whispers to me, looking over his shoulder to make sure Kennedy didn’t sneak back in.

“You know she’s going to kill you, right? She doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.”

Buddy shrugs and backs toward the door. “My daughter is finally dating Griffin. I never thought I’d see the day those two would finally get their heads out of their asses. I want a front-row seat so I can make sure it actually happens and she doesn’t chicken out.”

I laugh at Buddy and he gives me a small wave over his shoulder before walking out the door.

Once he’s gone, I get back to my Google search. The file we have on Matt isn’t very detailed, since all we really need to know about Matt for this case is where he’ll be at certain times of the day so we can follow him. He’s not a criminal—that we know of—so Lorelei didn’t need to do an extensive court-record search on him. And he didn’t break the law, so Kennedy doesn’t need to hunt him down and kick his ass.

I know my job is to just sit and look pretty, but I’m tired of that nonsense. I’m smart and resourceful; maybe if I go above and beyond my typical duties, Kennedy will trust me to handle some real cases. Cases where I need to learn to shoot a gun and put my newly learned self-defense moves to work.

Sure, looking deeper into Matt Russo’s background isn’t going to have me running through the streets chasing down bad guys, but at least it will show that I’m taking initiative.

“Well, hello, twenty-five Matt Russo Facebook pages. Let’s see, only one is from South Bend, so let’s go with that,” I say aloud, clicking on his name.

“Wonderful. Profile is set to private. What the hell, Matt? No one sets their profile to private unless they have something to hide. Do you have something to hide, Mr. Russo?”

Backing out of Facebook, I click on the next site that Google found on him: LinkedIn.

Let’s see here. Matt Russo is a graphic designer currently employed by Bolder Design Studio. I already knew this information, so this isn’t helping me at all. He’s an art nerd just like my ex is a computer nerd. No matter how cute he was last night, he’s probably just as much of a tool as Andy. I don’t know why that thought makes me sad. I don’t even know the guy. Just because he didn’t recognize me in the bar last night doesn’t mean he’s a stand-up person without a secret girlfriend.

But man alive, those blue eyes . . . I wonder what they would look like without the glasses. I wonder if they would darken if he was in my bed and I was taking his pants off.

Shit! What the hell is wrong with me? Matt Russo will not be in my bed, ever.

There’s a reason why I’m always attracted to nerdy assholes. I don’t know what that reason is right now, but I’m sure there is one. I am going to focus on finding out if Matt Russo is really a cheater and that’s it. I am not going to think about whether or not he’s got a six-pack hiding under that sweater vest.

Deciding to nip this thing in the bud, I pick up my phone and dial the receptionist at Bolder Design Studio. The sooner I can end this case, the sooner I can find a hot guy who looks and acts nothing like my ex and bang the memory of glasses-wearing, sweater-vest-donning, computer geeks out of my system.

While the phone rings, I clear my throat and put on my best dumb-blonde act.

“Bolder Design, how can I help you?” the receptionist answers.

“Hi, this is Chloe-with-an-e Marin,” I respond with a giggle, using the name of the woman Kennedy found her husband boning when she came home from a tour in Afghanistan. “You’re going to think I am such an idiot, but I was supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Russo this evening so he could help me design my new adult video website and I TOTALLY forgot the time and where we’re supposed to meet.”

I know I’m laying it on thick. Whatever. I hate that Chloe bitch and I firmly believe she does porn on the side.

“Hold on just one second. Let me pull up Mr. Russo’s calendar.”

I giggle again for added effect while I hear her clicking away at her computer through the line.

“Here we go. Hmmm, I don’t see anything on his calendar with you tonight, Miss Marin. He does have a dinner scheduled at Blake’s Seafood at five, but he must have forgotten to add your name.”

I’d like to thank the Academy . . .

“That’s it! Blake’s at five. You are such a doll!”

I quickly thank the clueless woman and disconnect the call. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I see that I have an hour and a half before I need to get to Blake’s. Just enough time to run home and freshen up. I’m assuming that Matt is smart enough not to put the name of his rendezvous location with his suspected mistress on his work calendar, but you never know. Running over to Lorelei’s desk, I grab the Nikon out of the top drawer and shove it into my purse. Maybe I’ll get lucky and catch him canoodling with a waitress in a dark corner. I can snap a picture and be gone, never to think of naked Matt Russo again.

Walking through the door of Blake’s Seafood Restaurant, I scan my reflection in the mirror next to the hostess station. I know it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing since I plan on hiding in a corner and spying on Matt, but it’s impossible for me to go out in public without looking good. Every once in a while I’m recognized by a fan, which is actually a plus in this line of work, because the guy I’m trying to catch cheating would never suspect that I’m an investigator.

I kept it casual tonight with a royal blue cotton strapless dress that falls right above my knees with a matching pair of blue open-toed Gucci heels. Signaling to the hostess on the phone that I was just going to head to the bar, I make my way into the main part of the restaurant and to the corner of the bar closest to me. With my back to the wall and a drink menu up in front of my face, I peer over the top, scoping out the restaurant. I immediately spy Matt on the other side of the room in his own dark corner.