The Homicide Hustle by Ella Barrick Read Free Book Online

me onto the elevator. We rode down in silence.
     On the ground floor, the door whooshed open and a couple of photographers surged forward,
     cameras clicking and whirring. I would have stopped in astonishment if Zane’s hand
     at my waist hadn’t kept me moving forward.
    “Zane!” one called. “Are you a couple off the dance floor as well as on it?”
    “No comment.” Head slightly lowered, Zane bulled past the paparazzi, grabbing my hand
     to pull me along.
    The baseball watchers stared curiously and I felt like I’d done something wrong, even
     though I hadn’t. If this was fame, the Hollywood crowd was welcome to it. We emerged
     into the muggy July night and walked briskly for half a block before I tugged on Zane’s
     hand to slow him down. “My shoes.” I pointed to the kitten-heeled sandals that showed
     off my pedicure, but weren’t meant for racewalking down Old Town’s brick sidewalks.
    “I am going to kill Nigel,” he ground out, skin tightening around his eyes.
    “You think he sicced the photographers on you?”
    “Not a doubt about it. He’s from the school that thinks any publicity is good publicity,
     so I’m sure he’s let every photog in town know where all the celebs from
Blisters
are staying. He’s hoping they’ll stake out the hotel and get a good shot or two,
     preferably something scandalous that can go viral on the Internet.” He looked down
     at me, forehead puckered, streaky blond hair feathering over his eyebrows. “I’m sorry
     you got caught up in it, Stacy.”
    “No biggie,” I said, shrugging. I started walking toward my house again, at a slower
     pace, a little disconcerted by the concern in Zane’s eyes. He was a nice guy. His
     niceness, combined with his hotness, made him hard to resist . . . not that he’d actually
     made a move or anything. If he did, what would I do? Danielle’s face popped into my
     head. I chased it away. Then, Tav’s face, so like Rafe’s, seemed to float in front
     of me. Any relationship with Tav was doomed, I thought sadly, reliving the moment
     I’d walked in on Rafe and Solange. I didn’t necessarily think Tav would cheat, but
     his life was in Argentina, mine was here, and we both had memories of Rafe getting
     in the way at inopportune moments. If I let myself start something with him, our business
     partnership would suffer when things went south, as they inevitably would. We reached
     the town house. “Well, here we are,” I said brightly.
    A blue glow came from my neighbor’s window, along with the faint sounds of crashes
     and gunshots that suggested she was watching a cop show or thriller. The gray cat
     that lived behind me skittered along the base of the staircase beside my house and
     a young couple strolled by, arms twined around each other. The sticky humidity clung
     to my arms. There was a moment of hesitation when my gaze met Zane’s. Was he going
     to kiss me? Was I going to let him? I caught my breath.
    “I’ll see you in the morning,” Zane said with a smile. “I
am
going to master that turn series tomorrow.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek,
     watched until I let myself in, and then walked back toward the hotel.
    Idiot,
I told myself, kicking off my shoes and heading for my bedroom. Stripping, I let
     my clothes fall to the floor, and pulled my sleep cami over my head. I brushed my
     teeth with more fierceness than my poor gums deserved, still beating myself for that
     moment of almost-hope on the front sidewalk. I did not need the complications that
     a relationship, no matter how shallow and temporary, with Zane Savage would bring.
     So I was glad he hadn’t tried to kiss me. Really, really glad. Immensely glad.

Chapter 6
    Tav greeted me when I climbed the interior stairs to the studio Thursday morning.
     I was makeupless and draggy, and my hair needed washing. I’d intended to do some cleaning
     before the film crew arrived—we’d cut costs by letting the janitorial service go—and
     I