The Prada Paradox (19 page)

“Drop the argument, Andy,” Blake said. “I’m not going anywhere, and if you keep beating that horse, you’re just wasting more of the time she has to find the antidote.”

“Blake…” That from Devi. “Please go. I don’t like you here. What if—”

“I’m not terribly concerned with what you like and don’t like,” he said, reaching the end of his patience. “BecauseI like that pretty head on your shoulders. And for that matter, I’m rather fond of the rest of you.” He allowed himself one quick glance over the rest of her, was rewarded with a quick brush of her teeth over her lower lip, a sure sign she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m fond of all your various parts, too,” she said, managing to make the statement sound matter-of-fact and not lascivious. “And that’s why I want you the hell out of here.”

“Too late. I’m already involved.” He held his hands out to his sides. “I’m a lost cause.”

“No.” The word came out barely a whisper, and the tears he saw filling her eyes began to erode his stony determination. “Blake, please. You might still be safe. It’s the middle of the night. Maybe no one knows you’re here.Please. Please go.”

The desperation in her voice cut through his heart, but he wasn’t willing to back down. He had left her once; he wasn’t doing it again.

She stared him down, then sighed. “Fine. Stay until we’re sure about the clue. But after that, you have to leave.Please, Blake. For me.”

It was the pain in her voice that finally got him, and he nodded. “All right,” he said. But the truth was, he kept his fingers crossed. No way was he making that kind of promise. He might leave the area, but he damn sure wasn’t leaving her.

He glanced at her, certain she knew what he was thinking, and thankful she didn’t call him on it.

Andy looked at each of them in turn, his expression grave. “Come on, already. The clock is ticking, and for all we know some overeager security guard is going to find us here. A guard,” he said, “or worse.”

Blake scowled, then turned to inspect the entire area, taking in the cypress trees that lined the pond and the sculpted hedges in the distance. He turned to scour the house with his gaze, his attention drawn to the dark nooks and crevices, as well as the roof.

He saw no one, and for a moment he let himself relax. He’d remain vigilant, of course, but his impression was that they were safe.

Devi, he saw, was peering again at the coin. Andy was circling the reflecting pond, his flashlight beam scouring the bottom of the reflecting pond. “I don’t see anything else on the bottom of the pool.”

“And I don’t know where else this coin could lead,” Devi said, her voice cracking as she moved toward Blake.

He put his arms around her, noticing Andy’s scowl as he did so. But Blake wasn’t in the mood to coddle the feelings of a crew member harboring a crush on the star, and as he held her, he shifted them, turning so that his back was to Andy and his full attention was on Devi.

“Hey, hey,” he said. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m losing it,” she whispered. “Don’t let me lose it in front of Andy.”

“You’re not,” he said, working to keep his voice firm. “I’m not going to let you lose it.”

“It’s happening all over again. Except it’s not. It’s as if I survived one nightmare just to walk into another one.”

“Listen to me,” he said, turning her face up so that she had no choice but to look at him. “You’re strong. You did survive. You beat the drugs. You resuscitated your career. You are not the victim here.”

“No? Then what the hell am I?”

“The winner,” he said. “I don’t care if I have to push you every step of the way, I’m going to make sure you win this damned game.”

That actually earned him a smile, but it wasn’t long-lived, the corners of her mouth turning down as the spark in her eyes faded. “You can’t stay, Blake. I want you to—dear God, how I want you to—but I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

“Then you understand exactly how I feel.”

“Blake—”

He silenced her protest with a soft finger to her lips. He wanted no more protests. No more fear. He just wanted her to have herself back, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t give her that.

Gently, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, wanting desperately to kiss her, but knowing he shouldn’t. Not with Andy somewhere behind him staring daggers at his back.

He heard Andy moving behind them, the sound reminding Blake that the time for comfort was over. There would be time for that once they kept Devi alive.

“The coin,” he said, reaching for it. “Maybe I’ll see something you don’t.”

“You won’t see anything,” Andy said. “You won’t, because you were right. The coin isn’t the clue.”

Blake turned to find Andy staring at the house. When he turned to face them, a slow grin spread across his face. “We’ve been looking in the wrong place,” Andy said.

“It’s not the reflecting pond?” Devi asked. “But it has to be.”

“A reflection of grandeur, of good timesonce seen, ” Andy said. “It’s not in the reflecting pond. It’s somewhere that you go tosee the pond.”

Blake couldn’t fault the logic there, and they all started to turn, finally zeroing in on a lone black bench next to a short wall, just a few feet away from one end of the pond.

“Looks like a bench,” she said as soon as they reached it. She dropped down, then bounced a little on it. “Feels like one, too.” She looked up at them. “Either of you see anything unusual?”

“Not at first glance,” Blake said. “Hang on.” He got down on the concrete, then scooted up under the bench.

“See anything?” Devi asked.

“Too damn dark.”

“Hang on,” Andy said, then bent down with the tiny flashlight.

Slowly, Blake ran the light over every inch of the bench’s underside, his heart pounding at the thrill of what he saw. “This is it.”

“And?”

“It’s backward. Flipped and backward.” He slid out enough to show his head. “Got a mirror?”

Devi rummaged in the black bag that Blake had noticed earlier in her kitchen. “Voilŕ,” she said, producing a compact.

He took it, then slid back under the bench.

“Okay. It’s a Web site: www.canyousurvivethegame.com.”

“That’s it?”

He slid back out. “That’s it.”

“Andy?” Devi asked.

“Already on it.”

Andy tapped away at the tiny keypad on his phone. After a few seconds, he sucked in a breath, then held the device out, the screen positioned for both Blake and Devi to see.

The world turns on its axis

And then it’s all done

Dressed for the red carpet

But it’s the end of your fun

And though the truth cuts like a knife

Find the antidote, or it’s a wrap of your life

Blake’s stomach twisted as he considered the garbled message. On the whole, it meant nothing to him. Nothing, that is, other than the basic sentiment ofbad. He reached out, searching for Devi’s hand, and his heart lifted in both sadness and joy when he realized she was reaching for him as well.

“Am I right about what this means?” she asked, her fingers tight in Blake’s hand and her gaze fixed just as firmly on Andy. “Twenty-four hours? One turn of the axis? Is that how long I have to live?”

“I think so,” Andy said. “Devi, I’m sorry, but this doesn’t change anything.”

“The hell it doesn’t.”

“Toxin delivered, remember? We already knew you’d been poisoned.”

“He’s right,” Blake said. “This isn’t confirmation, it’s just a timeline.”

She tilted her head back, looking at the sky as she took a deep breath. When she looked back at them, she tried a small smile, but mostly failed. And the tears glistening in her eyes threatened to undo Blake. “I just…I guess I just hoped I was right.”

“Right?”

“It’s stupid, but I thought that maybe—you know—since I’m hard to get close to…I guess I just hoped that it was a mistake.”

“Devi,” Andy said gently. “The game doesn’t make those kinds of mistakes.”

She nodded, but the sadness coming off her was palpable. As was the fear.

“How long exactly?” Blake asked, determined to get down to business. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about Devi’s fear. Nothing, that is, except find the assassin and stop the game. “Twenty-four hours from when?”

“That’s the question of the hour,” Andy said.

“Another fucking riddle,” Devi put in.

“We’ll figure it out,” Blake said. They had to. “Start with the red-carpet reference. What does that mean?”

“That I was infected on the red carpet? Maybe something in the air at a premiere?”

“Have you been to a premiere lately?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not in a couple of months.”

“And they wouldn’t release something in the air anyway,” Andy added. “Too much risk of other people getting infected. And that’s not the point of the game.”

“Slipped something in my drink at some sort of red-carpet function?”

“You haven’t been to one,” Blake reminded her.

“It says dressed for the red carpet,” Andy said, staring intently at his screen. “Maybe it just means you’re dressed like you would be. If you were going to a red carpet premiere kind of thing.”

“Maybe,” she said, sounding dubious.

“Have you done that recently?” Blake pressed. “Gone to a formal function?” The truth was, he knew the answer to that. When they were together, they hadn’t gone anywhere formal for over five weeks. After the breakup, he’d heard through the grapevine that Devi had pretty much stayed tucked away.

Sure enough, she shook her head. “Nothing recent.”

“Okay, let’s look at this from another angle. How do you dress for the red carpet? Have you gone shopping lately?”

She lifted an eyebrow, and he laughed.

“Okay, have you bought any Prada formal wear lately?”

“No. Just this bag and a few other odds and ends.” She held up her new bag. “And I didn’t even buy it. It was a gift.” Her eyes widened. “Oh! What about the dress I wore to the Oscars last year?”

They both looked at Andy, who shrugged. “What about it?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “I borrowed it, anyway. It’s back at Versace.”

“But that’s a good point. You dress formally for a red carpet affair, right? So maybe the point is that we’re talking about something formal.”

“Like…” She twirled her hand, urging him on.

“I’ve got nothing,” he admitted. “I still can’t figure out how I’m supposed to dress for these things.”

“A tux,” she said, teasingly. “And not rented from a dry cleaner.” She laughed, obviously enjoying the memory. Not that it was his fault he was so clueless on their first date. He’d never had occasion to wear a tux before.

He was about to defend his past tux-renting fiasco when her laughter abruptly stops.

“Dear God. That’s it.”

“What?” Blake and Andy asked, both at the same time.

“The chocolate. The strawberry. Don’t you remember? It was wearing a little tux.”

“Hell,” he said. “You’re right.” And it had tasted bitter. Suddenly, the confection he’d swiped weighed way heavy in his stomach.

“Oh, Blake,” she said, reaching out for him. “Blake—”

“I know,” he said. “You’re not the one poisoned. I am.”

“Shit,” Andy whispered, as Devi took and squeezed Blake’s hand, her eyes wide with horror and apology.

“I guess there’s a tiny bit of good news for me in the mix,” Blake said, trying hard to keep himself together.

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe a little,” he said, pulling her close. “But there’s no way you’re getting rid of me now. At least not until we find the damned antidote.”

Chapter27

No way you’re getting rid of me now…

The words play out in my head, a sense of joy coupled with deep grief and fear. I’m so afraid for Blake, and yet I’m so grateful that I’ve lost all my excuses to send him away. Iwant him with me, and the force of that need hits me so unexpectedly it sends me reeling.

I take his hand, then silently squeeze it. “I’m so sorry.”

He pulls me close, then kisses the top of my head. “It’s not your fault,” he says. Which is true. But it doesn’t change the oppressive guilt that I feel. Because while I would never in a million years wish Blake harm, I have to admit—even if only to myself—that I’m relieved that it’s him and not me who’s been poisoned.

I shiver, pulling free of his embrace to wrap my arms around myself. I can’t even believe I’m thinking that, and yet it’s so true, and there’s nothing I can do to erase the thoughts.

“Devi,” he says, as firmly as if he’s reading my mind. “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay, of course, but I’m not going to argue. Instead, I focus, just like we all need to be doing. “We need to get to work.”

“We damn sure do,” Blake says, and I reach out to brush his fingers with mine.