Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

7: perfumes and different faces

"So? Have you contacted Ian Neil?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"About what?"

"You said so yourself- he's like a father to me. I'm not sure if I want to get him into the mess of your family business."

"He thrived on revealing 'truths' about corporations and politicians. I'm sure he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life rotting away writing news about the latest dating rumour or plastic surgeries of celebs his kids' age."

"You're just using Ian, don't try to sugarcoat it." This one was a Lockwood, all right. "If whatever you're accusing your family of is true, then he might be put in danger. I know you don't care. But I do."

"Transaction's simple. You don't help me with the disappearance of my mother and her neighbour, I don't help you with your father." Elliot shrugged. "Your choice."

"What sweet words of love are you two whispering?" Noah chuckled, walking across the parking lot towards us with Bianca.

I'd been almost bracing myself for encounters like the one I'd had with Reneé, but the rest of the day passed without more dramatic interactions.

Ester decided to stay in school to practise tennis with her friends instead of going to an external tennis court, and Bianca was walking towards us, looking stiff and uncomfortable next to Noah, who continuously talked to her with his big, sunny Californian beam.

"Smile. You look like you're about to rip open my throat," muttered Elliot, grinning at Noah as he came closer. "Ian Neil isn't a kid. He's someone who went after corrupt presidential candidates. He's a big man, he can take care of himself."

"What great faith you have in him," I scoffed, hoping my smile didn't look like a scowl. "Keep him as safe as possible."

"Of course. The dead can't investigate, unfortunately."

I smiled sweetly. "Asshole."

As Noah and Bianca came up to us, I swore I saw Elliot's mouth curve into a smile of amusement.

"Since you two are going on a date-" Noah began, gesturing at the two of us with a mischievous, teasing glint in his eyes, and then turned to Bianca with a wink. "How about we go on a date too?"

Bianca blinked, staring at Noah. "You can go ahead with one of the hundred girls in your phone book," she sighed.

"Can you be the hundredth and first?" Noah handed Bianca his phone, looking expectantly at her. "By the way, you're the first I'm asking on a date."

Now I knew why Bianca seemed to be put off by him so much. She absolutely detested any boy who even remotely seemed like a player.

"My ideal type is someone who spends time reading in a library, who doesn't like places like clubs, and doesn't know much about girls," she had once said firmly. "Someone the complete opposite of me."

"You mean I'm the first you're asking today?" With her lips curled in disgust, Bianca pushed away Noah's phone, not even looking at him. "See you tomorrow, Clare."

I smiled tightly. "I'll call you."

"I know you know- but-" Bianca directed her words to Elliot, her lips pursed. "Please protect her from the bloody paparazzi."

Elliot nodded gently. "I will. Don't worry, Bianca."

Then, he pulled out a car key, and opened up the passenger's seat of a blue Porsche we'd been standing next to.

I blinked, looking into the interiors of the car. Elliot, with his back to Bianca and Noah, mouthed the words, 'Get in'.

Within the confines of a car with him, alone, again. Suppressing the urge to sigh, I got into the car. He shut the door, got into his seat, and starting the engine, waved at Noah and Bianca, who was already walking away from Noah.