Sutton Drew entered the dining room. She directed her eyes forward and held her shoulders back. As she made her way to the booth in the far corner, diners at The Roadkill grew quiet.
The men looked her over. Even the women stopped speaking. Rex knew what the men were thinking, but he was unsure about the women. Maybe they're assessing the competition or just envious of her style.
Rex had always admired how Sutton made an entrance. Of course she was tall for a female, nearly six feet without heels. But tonight, even though it was still early, she wore a tight black sheath with her three-inch red stilettos. Her hips swayed provocatively as she navigated the space between tables.
Sutton's walk told it all. She knew who she was. Confident but not overbearing. Okay, maybe it's not just the outfit, Rex thought. It's the way she wears her attitude, like a familiar piece of clothing, no lines or wrinkles.
"Good to see you both," Sutton said, sliding into the seat across from them. "Hey, Viv," she added with a friendly nod.
She's Lauren Bacall tonight, Rex thought. He liked to figure out which movie star Sutton embodied with her choice of attire. Not averse to wigs and colorful clothing, Sutton also dressed to match her mood. Tonight she's looking for some fun, he concluded.
A waiter stared at Sutton, his mouth hanging slightly open. His name tag read Danny and his glance had not moved from her chest. Sutton did not return his admiration. She glanced at her menu instead.
Once they'd ordered, Rex got down to business. "Looks like you have a hot date tonight." He gestured with a finger, moving it up and down to indicate Sutton's outfit.
"Not a date yet. But the night is young." Sutton reached for her water glass.
"We're still on the Carmine Nelson case," he said in a lowered voice. "Wanted to talk to you about any information you might have gathered. We need an address to start with. Where he lived."
"I figured." Sutton put the glass down. "Been kinda busy with other stuff. Dating someone new. She's from Lily Rock. But not in town tonight."
Rex knew that Sutton appreciated both men and women. He'd noticed right away when they first met. By the time he hired her and they'd become roommates, he listened to her relationship woes without judgment. And to be frank, over the years, she, too, had extended him a lot of leeway in that department.
Sometimes it was hard to explain to women about his relationship with Sutton. They didn't like the fact that he had a live-in personal assistant who looked like a Hollywood movie star one minute and a yoga instructor slash marathon runner the next. Too much competition. Plus they didn't trust his intentions.
After the first year Rex had learned not to bring women back to his place. If Sutton happened to be home there was hell to pay. He didn't like the fights that broke out, no matter how entertaining. And no matter how hard he tried, no woman believed there was nothing between them besides an abiding friendship and the paycheck he issued once a month.
Sutton was in charge of their house, his business appointments and calendar, house maintenance, and of course, Kevin. But her main job was to help him with his shows.
The well-kept secret—that she eavesdropped and gathered intel at The Roadkill before each performance—made his act feel authentic. One quick text from Sutton and he had the name of a recently deceased or a soon to be ex.
He was very good at reading people in his audience. But Sutton's research helped fill in the places where his intuition lacked. No one paid to have the showman pause and look insecure. A fact he'd learned the hard way, when early on he'd be stumped by some people and needed to scramble.
"Psychics need tools," he'd say. "Just like every other profession."
But now that he fancied himself as a detective, he wanted Sutton to bring her skill set, internet research especially, to his new job. So he planned on paying her extra to explore the private detective avenue.
After their meal, Rex ordered coffee. "We have a show at nine." He pointed to his Rolex.
"I got ya, boss," Sutton said. "I was here a little earlier. Dressed differently. I could see and hear the entire bar and dining area. Got some good stuff."
Rex turned to Viv. "If you recall, she's honed the art of sussing people out dining before my show. She can tell by how they dress and she eavesdrops on conversations." He didn't bother to hide the pride in his voice. He pointed to his ears. "Special microphones. Very pricey. They pick up everything."
Sutton smirked. "I have my ways. I pay Jake behind the bar to start up conversations about the show, you know, talk up how talented you are." Sutton smirked at Rex. Then she looked up to nod at the bartender. He touched the side of his nose in response.
"I see," Viv said.
Rex felt a moment of discomfort. His good knee began jiggling under the table. She's looking at us like we are red marbles in a box marked blue.
And then he shed his discomfort to admire her instead. Viv looked amazing. Her style was less in-your-face than Sutton’s, with the white linen blouse over white jeans and low-heeled sandals. With the subtle shifting of the blouse's fabric, you could see her curves beneath. He felt proud to be seen with her.
Unlike Sutton, Viv didn't welcome compliments. She'd said that the first time when he'd whistled, "I'm all about the coastal grandma look—Diane Keaton in the Nancy Meyers films. No feedback necessary." Her voice was curt.
He'd never heard of Meyers but he knew Keaton's work. Then it hit him, "Baby Boom, right? Keaton was in that one."
"Good guess," she said. "My favorite movie."
He put that in the back of his mind, knowing he could find the film on pay-per-view as soon as he had a free night.
Rex settled his back into the booth's cushion. It felt good to be seen with two smart and beautiful women. He hoped there wouldn't be any trouble between Viv and Sutton. That might be uncomfortable. Plus this time, he didn't want to choose.