Page 57 of Ruse
“Yeah, so you can imagine Ms. Hollis, being the prude that she is, wasn’t pleased.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time, since this conversation here with this mystery blondie is dragging on a lot longer than I had planned. 12: 25 PM. It’s almost lunchtime and I need to be out of here before the bell rings at 12:35 PM. “So why isn’t this best friend of yours sitting here with you?”
I open the message thread I have with Brett, saved underBruce Waynein case anyone ever finds this phone. Brett likes to keep his anonymity from those who are not his clients. What he’s doing for me is nothing compared to the dirt he finds on people in powerful places.
Bruce Wayne: Lotus Cafe, 12:45. I won’t wait for you.
I have twenty minutes to drive out to the Pacific Palisades which should be more than enough time if I leave here now.
“Because he said nobody sendsCole Sheppardto the principal’s office.”
The mention of Cole’s name makes me look back up at blondie. She’s younger than us, a sophomore maybe, but definitely not a senior. Her expression shifts to something that resembles panic when she catches me observing her intently. Something about her is oddly familiar, but I’m sure I’ve never seen her around here before. Maybe she’s friends with Phoenix? Doubt it, she doesn’t look the type. Although neither does Darcy and it seems like that friendship is blossoming.
“Sheppard, huh?” I ask, and suddenly a bright pink flush kisses the apples of her cheeks. This girl is adorable.
“Our moms have been best friends for like ever, and ever since his mom…” she stops, realizing she’s almost said something she probably shouldn’t share with me. Smart girl. I shouldn’t be trusted, though Cole Sheppard’smommy issuesare nothing I’m interested in learning about. “Let’s just say he’s pretty much family at this point.”
I nod, not encouraging her to share any more information. “Well, I’m out, catch you later Blondie.”
“Wait,” she calls out, louder than she’d planned. Marge takes that opportunity to look up at us. I catch herleave the girl alonestare before she turns her attention back to her screen. “You’re just going to leave? Weren’t you here to see Principal Rutherford?”
Naivety is strong with this one, almost makes me wonder if she really is from around here. “Kids like you and I don’t get in trouble. Take that as your first lesson Blondie. Principal Rutherford isn’t coming out to ground you for kissing a boy in class. It’s exactly why Cole didn’t show up. It's all for show. The teacher’s around here need to feel like they're being heard, taken into consideration when it’s the pretentious rich kids that rule the halls.”
“You sound like you know everything about Malibu Cove when you just got here Maverick.”
Looks like Blondie’s been holding out on me. She’s feisty and apparently does know who I am. “Correction, I just got back. Besides, things were a hell of a lot worse where I was at.”
Turning to walk away before she continues this conversation, I look down at my watch. I really need to get out of here.
“And where was that?” she asks.
“Far, far away,” I murmur back under my breath, but I don’t think she hears me. “Catch ya later Marge.” The old woman grunts and waves me off without a second glance.
“It’s Levi,” I hear Blondie call out just before I open the door to exit the office. I try my hardest to step out, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I half glance back at her, and find her standing, her petite, yet incredibly fit and toned figure facing me head on. “Levi Landon.”
I turn back around and take a step forward. “Catch ya later, Blondie,” I shout back before disappearing down the hall.
Once I’m out the school gates and in my Aston, I reach into the glove compartment, pulling out the file Brett gave me at our last meeting. There’s something about this girl, it’s like I know her from somewhere, and I know I haven’t hooked up with her. Not that she isn’t hot and my usual type, blonde and breathing, but she's too young. Because I can grow a full beard and have had facial hair since I was fifteen, I typically attract the older ladies. Not too crazy but those hot trophy wives turned housewives need some love and a little excitement and I love to give back.
Opening the manila packet, I pull out the birth certificate and photographs, staring at the name written on the top line. A few years younger in the picture I’m holding in my hand, but there's no mistaking it. I know this girl, and she’s going to be a lot easier to track down than I’d expected.
“Oh, this is good,” I murmur to myself, unable to keep in my wide grin.
Tucking the papers and photo back into the folder, and throwing it on my passenger seat, I start the car, rev up the engine, and zoom out of the student parking lot. Wait until Brett hears about this.
ChapterNineteen
PHOENIX
“Remind me again why on earth I allowed you to quit the cheer squad, Phoenix?” Donovan asks as she joins Darcy and I on the bleachers. Her bronzed complexion is flushed, sweat glistened skin gleaming under her teal and white cheer uniform, and her hair’s pulled up high into a ponytail secured with a matching teal bow.
“Because it was not up to you, Dee,” I answer, directing my attention back to the laptop currently resting on my lap.
It’s been so much fun planning the End of Summer Fair that will take place in just one week. From choosing the carnival style rides, to reaching out to the best restaurants in town to cater the event, the only thing left to do is add the final touches. So here I am, sitting on the bleachers during the football team's practice before tomorrow's first season pregame.
Donavan rolls her eyes as she drops onto the bench with a huff. “Ughh, it’s so not fun without you, can you believe Coach Marsden had the audacity to suggest making Twit Twat Tate co-captain? I swear I literally died. She’s crazy, like psych ward cray, if she thinks that I’d ever allow that to happen.”
Nodding in agreement so she doesn’t give me shit for ignoring her, I search the field for Fitz. He isn’t hard to spot, not only because he’s standing next to my brother at the fifty-yard line, but because that’s where the gazes of the squealing crowd of groupies to our left are directed.
