“What do you want to become? Or have you already reached that goal?”
He waited for her answer, but she seemed to squirm in her chair and play with her utensils. Hopefully, he hadn’t asked the wrong question. Suddenly, he realized he had! Because she’d wanted to earn extra money being a call girl, that right there hinted to him she didn’t have a good profession.
Silently, he groaned. Now he needed to say something to make up for his blunder.
~*~*~*~
Brittany couldn’t think. Why did this always happen to her when she was around this man? Had he some kind of hypnotic power to make all of the thoughts in her head disappear? So far, that’s the only excuse she could come up with.
She couldn’t necessarily tell him that she wanted to be a cop or detective, because what kind of woman would do that and then try to be a call girl? Perhaps she’d tell him about the profession she’d almost gone into.
She raised her gaze and met his worried one. “I was actually in college to get a degree in interior design, but I had to drop out to care for my father when he became sick. Once he was feeling better, I found a job, but I wasn’t making a lot of money. One thing led to another, and suddenly bills started piling up. Then my job laid me off, and well…now I’m here, looking really pathetic about now, I suppose.”
Sadness encased his expression. He took her hands in his, once more. It was hard to admit, but when he did this, it calmed her.
“My sweet, Brittany. You have such a caring heart to drop out of school to watch over your father. I think interior design would be a great career for you. I hope you return once you can get back on your feet.”
She nodded. “That is my plan.”
He released her and turned to grab one of the dishes of food. “We’d better eat before our food gets cold.”
“Oh, yes. I’m starving.”
It melted her heart to think he’d serve her. Most wealthy businessmen sat back and allowed others to serve them. With every minute with him, he amazed her more. Now she wondered how he could even be considered a suspect at all. He was so kind and attentive, and that definitely wasn’t how murderers acted. There were people who had split personalities, but because he’d made it so far in life and was still going strong, that told her he didn’t have that particular disorder.
As they ate their dinner, she relaxed and enjoyed listening to him. He talked about his hotels, and more importantly, how he’d obtained them. The idea of him being a murderer floated further from her mind. This man was extremely intelligent.
Off and on throughout the conversation, she could hear Kurt in her ear, making snide comments. Obviously, her partner thought Austin was lying about everything. She was tempted to take him out of her ear and enjoy her date for the rest of the night. But she knew she had to somehow get around to that important question—what were you doing on the night of Hillary’s murder?
When there was a break in the conversation, she asked, “Austin, you really are a busy man, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He took a sip of his wine. “That’s one of the reasons I cherish times when I can relax, like right now.”
“I wonder if that’s the reason you weren’t here when I first came by to talk to you.” Brittany tried not to pat herself on the back for coming up with this idea so quickly.
His drink stalled at his mouth. “You came to see me another time?”
“Yes. Let’s see,” she tapped her finger on her cheek, “today is Friday, so I came to see you last Tuesday. It was around ten o’clock in the morning.”
“Good girl, Russell,” Kurt said in her ear. “That’s the way to get Romeo to talk.”
“Wow.” Austin shook his head. “You were a determined woman, weren’t you?”
“Like I said before. I was desperate.” She paused, hoping he’d tell her where he was, but when he laid his hand over hers and gently squeezed, she wondered if he was going to thwart her question.
“Let’s take our drinks over to the sofa.” He stood and held her hand until she rose to her feet. With drinks in their hands, he led her to the furniture. “It’s more comfortable over here.”
She hardly tasted her wine, but only because she wanted a clear head tonight. He sat very close to her and placed their wine glasses on the wooden coffee table in front of them.
“Brittany, I’m really worried about you. I know we only just met, but I care about you a great deal. Please don’t lower yourself to become one of those girls who sells her body.” He stroked her cheek. “You’re much too intelligent for that.”
He thinks I’m intelligent?Her heartbeat picked up in rhythm. “Austin, when I came to see you on Tuesday,” she tried to bring back that subject, “I was in a different frame of mind. Maybe it was a good thing you weren’t here that morning.”
He turned his body closer to hers and slid his arm across the back of the sofa. A grin tugged on his mouth. “Why? What would you have done if I was here?”
Well, at least he said something that let her know he wasn’t home around that time of day when Hillary was murdered. However, she still didn’t think that made him a suspect.
She chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t dare say too much. Besides, I’m sure you can guess what would have happened. I’m assuming you wouldn’t have been exhausted like you were the other day.”
