Of All The People...

Caroline and Ollie’s wedding was the event of the century. Elaborate decorations, flowers as far as the eye could see, a cake larger than a child, and over 500 guests. That was what happened when a super wealthy and popular woman married a super wealthy and popular man. The ceremony was beautiful and tear-jerking, but the reception was where the party started.

         In a hall that rivaled the length of a football field, people were shuffling and mingling about. Drinks were free flowing, as were the conversations. Though there were tables scattered around the room, the party was in full swing and few seats were occupied. That is, save for the one taken by Bindi Davis. It was as occupied an hour into the party as it had been at the start. The woman had taken to scrolling through Facebook and Twitter to pass the time while sipping on her champagne. But, soon enough the neighboring seat was filled by none other than her best friend, Morgan, who looked thoroughly danced-out, her red hair tussled, and her cheeks were tinged pink from the exertion and alcohol.

         “Bindi, I swear this is exactly where I left you an hour ago. What are you still doing here?” She looked over at Bindi’s phone. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that your grandma’s aggressively religious Facebook posts were of such a pressing concern.”

         Bindi in turn rolled her eyes, but shut off her phone, nonetheless.

         “There? Happy?”

         Grinning, Morgan replaced her phone with another glass of champagne that she pulled from somewhere next to her.

         “Now I am,” she said, leaning back in her chair, sipping on her own cocktail. “But seriously, you are at the wedding of the century. There are over 500 people here and you’re telling me that there is no one else beside me and your phone that you can mingle with?”

         “I told you this when I got the invite. I was only her roommate in college for a year before I went to the police academy. And it’s not even like we were super close. These are all her friends and his, none of whom I’ve ever met. Honestly, I don’t really know why I was invited.”

         Bindi didn’t think that she had ever seen Morgan roll her eyes harder.

         “Fine. Then guess what. You get to do a little something called ‘meeting people.’ It’s what the rest of us do when we are in a room with 500+ strangers,” Morgan said slowly, as if explaining it to a child.

         Bindi shot her a look. “Thank you for the very helpful explanation,” she said dryly. “I can meet people just fine.”

         Something over Bindi’s shoulder caught Morgan’s eye. “Alright, fine. Prove it.”

         Almost before she could finish her sentence, the redhead shot up and grabbed the man behind Bindi by the arm.

         “This is Jeremy. He was Ollie’s college roommate or something like that. Now you two have never met, right?”

         Bindi looked at the man for a minute before answering, “Nope.”

         A second later, the man responded with the same answer.

         “Great! Have fun!”

         And with that, Morgan left in a whirl of taffeta and the clack of her heels on the hardwood floors, leaving behind the man and woman.

         Jeremy took the seat beside Bindi that Morgan had left vacant.

         Pulling herself out of her stupor with Morgan in her peripheral watching her, she began, “I’m Bindi.”

         “Jeremy, like your friend said.”

         His smile was easy and friendly and his eyes were almost inviting, but Bindi knew better.

         Of all the people at this wedding, naturally she had to introduce me to a silent head of one of the largest mobs this city has ever seen, she thought.

         But the gears started turning quickly in her head. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage. He didn’t seem to recognize her.

         “So, you were Ollie’s roommate?”

         “Yeah, but that’s probably one of my less important titles,” Jeremy started.

         I bet. I’d definitely put mob boss, murderer, and extortionist as higher titles than college roommate.

         “We had been friends for ages before that. Our families were close. We grew up together so I’d say he’s more of brother than a roommate,” he finished. “How about you? Are you here for the bride or groom?”

         “Bride. We met in college.”

         He nodded and then took a swig of his drink.

         “So, what do you do, Bindi?” He asked, drawing out her name.

         “Public service. And you?”

         “I dabble. Finances, law, public relations. Stuff like that.”

         Well that’s one way of wording it.

         “That’s pretty interesting,” she said, turning on her best flirty voice, which, admittedly, could still use some work. However, it would do for now. “I imagine you must travel a lot with all your… dabbling.”

         He smirked. “Yes, I do. The international markets love my dabbling.”

         She put a hand on his knee. “As many girls do too, I would think.”

         Jeremy started to smile wider and began to say something, but she interrupted him first, “Unless of course you don’t play for that team.”

         She removed her hand and his face immediately contorted into an expression of defensiveness. Internally she rolled her eyes. Too easy.

         “No, no. I definitely play for that team. Many girls,” he started to regain his composure again. “So many girls, it would blow your mind. They have made me a rather… talented man.”

         Now it was his turn to put his arm around the back of her chair. She wished so desperately for someone to call in with an arrest warrant for him so she could drag him out in handcuffs and toss him in prison where he belonged. Yet, as of then, they had nothing directly on him. Nothing that could support an arrest anyway.

         As disgusted and annoyed as she was, she slapped on a fake smile, hoping to draw some more information out of him.

         “Think you could show me some of those talents sometime?” Bindi said with a wink, ignoring the repulsion that settled into her stomach.

         He started rubbing small circles on her bare left shoulder, brushing her bronze hair out of the way and looking into her eyes.

         “Sadly, I don’t think we’ll have the time, dear.”

         She returned her hand back to his leg, but this time on his thigh. “And why is that?”

         He broke their gaze and started watching his thumb.

         “Places to go, people to see, things to do.”

         “Oh yeah,” she leaned back in her chair against his arm. “Like what?”

         “I happen to have a few business deals coming up.”

         “None local?” She squeezed his leg. “None that you could be a few minutes late to in the morning, Jeremy?” She drew out his name just as he did hers earlier.

         He cleared his throat. “Can’t be late to a 5 am flight.”

         She slid her chair closer to his and leaned into the crook of his arm.

         I’m in the crook of a crook. Funny.

         “Not even if there is something far more…entertaining?”

         She could feel his arm tense behind her and herself tense in response.

         “Not even then.”

         “These deals must really be something then. Will I be hearing about them in the news?”

         “I don’t think you will. At least not our news.”

         He lifted his hand from her shoulder and looked at the clearly very expensive watch sitting on his wrist.

         “Sadly, this is when we part.”

         He sat up and she did too. She glanced at her phone on the table, hoping for a last-minute warrant, but there were no new alerts. Nothing better said so close, but so far.

         Jeremy stood from the table and stuck out his hand, which she tentatively took with her own.

         Shaking them, he said, “It was lovely to meet you, Bindi. Best of luck with your future endeavors.”

         As he turned away, she reached for her phone to alert her captain of everything that just happened. But before she could, Jeremy turned back to face her.

         “And Detective Davis,” her stomach dropped and it took everything in her not to instinctively respond to her name.

She felt his hand on her shoulder once more. “Bindi.”

That time, she did turn around, playing naïve. “Yes?”

He laughed. “Do you really think that I don’t know every single cop, every single detective that could possibly be after me? Who knows who I am? I recognized you the minute you walked into the chapel. I danced with your friend and mentioned that you had been sitting alone the whole reception. I even conveniently stood at the bar behind you when she inevitably tried to get you to socialize.”

The frustration and anger boiling in her gut had to be giving her ulcers, she just knew it.

He looked around for a second and then knelt beside her.

“And pro tip: next time you try to seduce information out of a man, make sure he’s straight first.”

With a wink and a smile, he stood up again.

Bindi’s mind was reeling, but she did all she could to keep it focused for one more minute.

“What you told me, how much of it was real?”

“Some of it, all of it, none of it. That’s for me to know, and you to find out. That is your job isn’t it?” He laughed one more time before turning away again. “Bye bye Bindi. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Before she could blink, he was already lost in the crowd.

Shortly after he left, Morgan returned to take back her seat.

“That looked like it went pretty well for you two being total strangers,” she said, nudging Bindi with her foot. “Think you’ll see him again?”

Still half lost in thought, she replied, “Something tells me I will, and when I do, he won’t get away that easily.”