Visionary Investigator Read online

I shoved my phone, wallet, and lipstick in my bag, rushing to the door before I remembered my gloves. I rushed back to my dresser, pulling out my "elegant" pair of gloves. I slid the thin, silk, fingerless gloves on, the kind that ended at the edge of my palm. The white color would have to do, seeing as I was still waiting for my custom LV print ones that Cece apparently ordered for me. I don't know what connections she had, but to get the company to make me designer gloves which would be one of a kind, warmed my heart. I loved her for all she did for me.

  The nights when I was plagued with nightmares, days before my mom’s death anniversary, she’d always let me stay at her place. Every time a scream would escape me as I gasped for breath, she’d be there to console me in the wee hours of the morning, soothing me back to sleep.

  Even when we first met, she had come to my aid – my back pressed against the wall as three past classmates surrounded me in the corner of the club’s alleyway. I knew I was outnumbered and wouldn’t come out of the fight without a black eye, but I wasn’t going to back down to those bullies. Cece appeared at that very moment, causing quite the scene.

  Let’s just say my face was spared. Till this day, those bullies were still getting plastic surgery to fix the chaos that occurred. My phone began to ring again; the sound muffled thanks to my purse. I cursed, rushing out my room, pressing the button to lock the door. Cece hates waiting. The red, flashing light informed me that my room was now securely locked.

  I walked towards the living room; my heels clicked and clacked against the black tiled floors.

  It only took me two steps before I heard the TV pause; the sound of cheering from the current football game came to a halt. I closed my eyes, preparing my mind for the possible argument that would come.

  "Scar? Where are you going looking...well, looking so fucking hot?"

  I turned to face Jake, my boyfriend, as I forced myself not to allow my hand to run through my hair in fear of loosening the tight curls that I worked so hard on perfecting.

  "I'm going out with Cece and her lover." I answered. He stood, the remaining crumbs from the empty bag of Cheetos fell to the floor. I'd totally have to clean that later. I just hoped Moonlight didn't try to lick it.

  "You didn't tell me you were going out. I can come with–"

  "Nope. You're not coming. Remember LAST time we went with you to the club."

  "Scarlet, it wasn't that bad."

  "Uh huh. Not bad? It was HORRIBLE, Jake! Not only did I have to pay for an Uber to bring your ass home, I tipped the driver an extra hundred bucks to drag your ass up five flights of stairs, since the elevator was broken, and leave your drunk ass on the doorstep. Then our kind, adorable neighbor got the spare key and dragged your ass inside, so you wouldn't disturb the neighbors with your out of this world snoring. I bet you could even wake the dead with how loud you snore when you're drunk." I ranted. My hand rose up to brush through my hair before I remembered, stopping mid-way.

  "I thought I got home on my own..." He mumbled.

  I simply stared back at him; my foot tapped against the floor. I wasted precious time here with Mr. Sensitive. It was times like these, he understood how lucky he was to have someone as hot and committed as me.

  After my mother's passing and my father's disappearance, I was entitled to all my mother's businesses and investments. Not to mention the five hundred grand from two insurance companies for accidental death – murder fell into that category. I could have easily afforded a luxurious condo in the middle of the busy downtown area, but I knew how fast money could fly out of your hand and the struggle it was to make it. If only Jake understood those principles.

  Now that he was unemployed, he bummed around my apartment which we "shared" and picked up construction work once in a while, which they paid him for under the table. If only he'd sober up long enough to get his ass up and work.

  I wouldn't rank myself as successful, but at the age of twenty-five. I was in my final year of school for Criminology, aiming to get into the top criminal investigation agency in the world – Paranormal INC.

  It was every investigator's dream to land a position in that organization. The pay was good, the work was mind boggling and solving a case was satisfying as your name and image were plastered on news magazines and other publications when the case was solved.

  "Jake, I have to go. Cece's waiting downstairs. You know how much she hates when you delay me."

  "Scar do you have to? Can't we just hang out here and watch the game?" He whined.

  "I hate football and no. I have finals coming up, and I’m going to be assigned a criminal case in two days. I need this, Jake. I'll be perfectly fine and drink responsibly. I'll be home before three am, alright?" I didn't have time to argue. I was ready to move when he walked forward, stopping in front of me.

  "Okay. Uh, call me if you need me to come pick you up or anything." He whispered, leaning to kiss me. I turned my head; his lips landed on my cheek. I pulled away with a smile before making my way to the door, grabbing my keys. I didn't want his chapped lips ruining my makeup, or the stale stench of beer and the last two days without a shower lingering on me.

  "MEOW"

  I looked down to my little cat; his blue eyes gazed up at me. I knelt, petting his soft, black fur.

  "Don't worry Moonlight, I'll be back soon. Make sure Jake doesn't burn down the house, okay?" I mused as he purred; his tail brushed my bare legs.

  "It was an accident you know." Jake pointed out.

  I looked over my shoulder to glare at him.

  "Accident? Margaret, my lovely neighbor came to the rescue to put out the fire. You still owe me a thousand bucks for the repairs and calling the fire department to ensure everyone's safety in the building." I snarled.

  He flinched, frowning before he walked back to the couch.

  "Have fun." He sat back down, grabbing the remote next to him to put the game back on; the cheers roared through the flat screen TV.

  That’s right, pretend you didn't hear me mention the money you've owed me for two years. I know you'll totally pay me back one day. Hah, who am I kidding? I'll be lucky to get enough change for Starbucks...no, Dunkin Donuts dollar coffee.

  My phone vibrated; the loud ringtone blared out of my purse. I cursed, rushing out the door. Please don't lecture me!

  I sprinted out of the elevator the moment the doors began to open, almost crashing into the couple walking towards me.

  "Late, as usual, Scarlet?"

  "YES, Alfred! I'll be back in the early hours! Make sure my apartment doesn't burn down!" I yelled as I rushed past the entrance desk. Alfred the apartment attendant relaxed in his leather seat; his black suit made him look hella attractive this evening, even without any alcohol in my system. You know you need to get laid when you think your forty-year-old attendant looks smoking hot.

  "Will do. Enjoy the evening, Ms. Sinclair."

  I smiled, waving as I pushed against the rotating doors. Alfred had become like a guardian angel. The number of times he'd carried my wasted butt to my apartment, making sure Margaret was present when he tucked me into my shared bedroom, needing a witness to ensure that was all he did.

  All the times he'd done so, Jake had been out doing his own partying; the apartment had been left with Moonlight sitting patiently at the edge of the bed to guard me against any intruders. Bless them for being in my life. With barely any family, having one best friend, a useless boyfriend, and Kendrick, I didn't have anyone to really rely on. They helped fill that void.

  I turned; the flight of stairs that headed to the main side walk came into view. I skipped down the stairs, landing lightly on my feet as I reached the bottom, before turning to my right; a stunning blonde in an eye catching black, glitter dress glared at me. Her arms were crossed as her shiny, black heels tapped against the cement, impatiently. Aww fuck.

  I ran towards her, giving my best please don't murder me smile. I glanced at the black limo parked next to her; the side lights turned on as the sun began its descent.

&n
bsp; "Really? A limo? Where are we going tonight and don't give me that look! It was Jake's fault. You know he always tries to convince me to not go out with you when I look like a runway model, ready to hop on someone's lap and work my magic." I whined, blinking my eyes.

  She rolled her eyes but outstretched her arms. I squealed before hugging her.

  "You can live another day. We're running late, let's go. The venue opens in thirty minutes and we have reservations. I doubt they'll try to give away our VIP spots. I used my lover's name hehe." She confessed before giggling I smirked at her.

  "You sly devil, and VIP? Oh hell, woman get your sexy ass in the car! Also, I brought my new phone. Can we take like, a billion pictures? Maybe I'll land a selfie with a hot guy to change my cat lock screen picture." I side bumped her with my booty, prompting her to get her ass moving. She laughed, the sound soft and gentle to my ears.

  "I'll make sure to get a professional picture of you and the first guy you fall head over heels for. I'll even attempt to get his contact info for you, so you can sext each other." She retorted.

  "I don't think Jake would like me flirting." I laughed; my body tingled with excitement at potentially sexting someone. I seriously missed the single life.

  "Fuck Jake. He can stroke his little weenie. You need a long rod to ride on. C'mon bestie, time to find you a playmate."

  Chapter Two

  Nothing surprised me when it came to Cece planning our evening shenanigans. She was the only daughter of two well-known lawyers, specializing in criminal related cases. It was why my bestie joined me in my quest to obtain my criminology degree. She'd easily land a job with the mention of her last name. I, on the other hand, didn't have the connections. It didn't bother me. I'd achieve my dream job one day, no matter how hard it was.

  The venue was stunning. Our limo drove up to the red-carpet entrance of the hottest club in town. The cheapest tickets to get in started at a thousand dollars and went up from there, usually selling out due to their guest visit limit of one-hundred. Unless you were VIP, in which you had access whenever you wanted.

  The driver pulled open the door, assisting me out as I walked forward. Cece and her man Vinzent, not far behind. The power couple caught everyone’s attention. Cece's usual curled hair was straightened; her sparkling, black mini-dress complimented her figure and matched her overly expensive Christian Louboutin’s and limited-edition LV evening clutch. She presented herself like a celebrity. Who wouldn't get that impression with her hulky, Russian boyfriend; his muscle-filled arm wrapped around her?

  The black, dress shirt did a fine job holding down his muscles. His six-seven figure didn't just ask for attention, it demanded it, which was always rewarded with multiple stares and gawks when he entered a room. Geez, I need a tall man like that in my life. I loved being five-six but having a five-seven boyfriend was beyond boring. C'mon heavens, give me a hot, bulky six-five man to jump into his arms and hang from his chest, won't you?

  We entered the restaurant club; the waiter promptly took us to the VIP section. Upon entry, you could already see the dramatic difference. The low lights and smell of red wine and chocolate was enough to set the romantic atmosphere; the human-size, chocolate fountain came into view. I was stunned by the designed structure of strawberries surrounding the melted chocolate as it flowed down. I licked my lips. I will see you in a few, my precious. I had a serious chocolate addiction, chocolate chip cookies were my all-time favorite. I needed to find a man who could cook a gooey batch.

  We took our seats, taking our time to view the expensive menu; bearing food that could serve kings and queens.

  We finished dinner just in time; the hottest DJ kicked off the night with the perfect beat that made you want to shake your body and twerk it out. I pulled Cece away, taking the opportunity to have some bestie time – dancing was one of our all time favorite things to do.

  We danced the night away, working up a sweat as we took breaks at the open bar, participating in shot games before returning to the dance floor when one of our jams came on.

  We were on our fifth shot, when my gaze landed on the most eye-catching hunk of sexiness I'd seen. If looks could kill, this walking masterpiece would have dead bodies falling at his feet.

  He looked about six-six in height; his lean, fit physique complimented the perfectly tailored navy-blue suit. His white dress shirt popped out with a pink tie; the same color handkerchief tucked neatly in his chest suit pocket.

  His short, black hair was styled in a classy, clean cut; the gel held down every little strand to the bloody T. His gold watch peeked out beneath the cuff of his shirt sleeve; the gold cuff links sparkled in the flashing lights. Of course, his high-class look distracted me enough, but my eyes locked on his gorgeous amber ones. The strong, yellowish gold, with a hint of coppery tint pulled at my heartstrings. My heart took the liberty to skip a few beats as I gawked at him, and he headed straight towards me.

  I gulped, turning around to the bar, and asked the bartender for another shot. Yes, the alcohol helped me see my hidden fantasies. I'd have to keep his image in my mind for when I needed a good evening with Jimmy. I'd probably climax in two minutes flat if I stared into those orgasm, inducing eyes. Whoever put a leash on him was the luckiest woman, or man, in the world. Sure, I was technically taken, but if I had a chance to caress his naked, fit body, I'd throw away my relationship status and lock it up with a key for one night.

  "Cece, who's the sexy ginger hiding her pretty face from me?"

  Jesus Christ! His voice alone! So deep and husky. Is that how he normally talks? How can you even concentrate when his voice alone can turn you on? Wait a minute, did he just ask who I was?

  "Jaxson! Holy shit, am I seeing things? You're partying for once, instead of catching yet another murderer on the streets of dirty LA? THIS, is my best friend Scarlet. Scar, say hello."

  I mentally cursed at my best friend; her voice hinted how pleased she was to hook me up with this sexy beast. I chugged the shot in my hand, placing the empty glass lightly on the counter before turning around; my bouncy curls whirled around and fell back into a bountiful mess. I smiled seductively.

  "Scarlet Sinclair. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." I introduced, lifting my hand up to shake his. He smiled; his lips revealed a perfect set of white teeth. What wasn't perfect about this man?

  He raised his hand, giving me a firm handshake before lifting my hand to press his smooth lips against my white gloves.

  "Jaxson White. The pleasure is all mine. May I say, I love your gloves. Nice addition to your stunning outfit." He complimented; his eyes gleamed with excitement. This man did not just compliment my gloves. Please tell me he's single.

  I didn’t know what it was about him that pulled me in. Sure, he was a sexy piece of hotness, but there was something else. I felt connected to him; as if he was meant to be by my side. But, those thoughts were ridiculous. I was surprised Jake could handle my weirdness. To be honest, I think he lost interest long ago, just how I lost interest in him.

  "Jaxson's best friends with Vinzent. They collaborate in hosting celeb get together and assist with planning award events. Jaxson's also a part of one of the top investigation teams at Paranormal Inc.” Cece announced.

  I turned to my best friend, smiling sweetly at her as I attempted to hide my fangirl self. Not only was he a successful business owner, but he was part of the top team of criminal investigators at my dream job!

  "Seriously? That's phenomenal. It's nice to meet someone of that status. You do us all a great service ridding LA’s streets of such bad individuals." I complimented back. My voice hinted at the small amount of pride I felt for meeting someone who contributed to the low crime rate in the city.

  "It's all in a day's work. I'm glad to be able to clear the streets. It's nice to finally have a few days off. Were you guys planning to go back on the dance floor or continue your shot game?" He questioned.

  "Well, I was going to go find Vinzent, but I know Scar was going to head back t
o the dance floor. Too bad it's hard to find someone who can dance to these amazing beats," Cece sighed as she downed her drink.

  I gave her a quick eyebrow lift as I realized her underlying intentions. This sly bitch...

  "I agree, this DJ is playing some good tunes, and I think they deserve some much-needed justice on the dance floor. I took a few salsa and hip hop classes. I'm no pro, but I'm not too bad.” I glanced at him wide eyed.

  "Did you just say you did salsa AND hip-hop?" I inquired, unable to hide my excitement.

  "Pro champion for four years and did hip hop all throughout high school. I'm average." He admitted, winking at me as he smiled.

  I walked towards him, grabbing his hand before tugging at him.

  "Cece, I'll see you later." I didn't know if I was going to keep the promise, but I wasn't going to miss out on having a sexy, pro dance partner with three hours of dancing to spare.

  "Put those dancers to shame you two." She called out over the music.

  I turned to face Jaxson, my hips already moving to the popping beat vibrating against the walls. He smirked; his eyes gazed at me with lust. I had no idea when he took off his suit coat; his white shirt shone brightly against the flashing lights, but he only looked sexier. His hips began to move as he slid his arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him as we danced.

  "Let's have a good time. I'm in dire need of a good time.”

  "You took the words right out of my mouth." I purred, allowing the music to take me away as we began to dance to the rhythm of the beat.

  Three hours of exotic body to body grinding, and I'd considered two possibilities – either the heavens were playing with my heart, or Jaxson White was created just for me.

  When you looked at his six-six structure, his body sculpted like those pro weight lifting models you'd see in fashion magazines, you'd never guess he'd be able to dance the way he did tonight. Those hips seriously didn’t lie, moving in sensational swings and motions beyond my imagination as his body moved to the flow of the pounding music. My competitive side emerged; the younger part of myself didn’t want to be left in the dust, matching his pace throughout the early hours of the morning.