“Maybe we shouldn’t, but it doesn’t mean that we won’t,” she said confidently. “We’re both healthy, young, and attracted to each other. I have no desire to take Brook’s place; I’m not interested in a relationship. What I would do is hook up with you. I believe Aubrey said it best: you give me good orgasms. I’ve yet to find anyone else who does.”
TMI!
“If I ever cross a line or even make you feel uncomfortable, please let me know. You’re right when you say we’re young and attracted to each other. Sometimes I say or do something I shouldn’t. What I want you to know is that I’ll take whatever you say seriously. I would rather we talk it out and resolve any issues than end up on bad terms.
“That’s a two-way street, though,” I continued. “I need to know that you work for me with my best interests in mind.”
She paused and looked thoughtful for a moment.
“That whole revenge thing wasn’t my best moment. The trip to visit with Brook helped me realize how foolish I’d been. I’m glad you’re not the kind of guy who holds grudges.”
Tell that to Zander and Baby Dick, I thought. Lexi had crossed a line, but for some reason, I felt we could work together. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be watchful. It was a case of ‘trust but verify,’ and frankly, I didn’t entirely trust her yet. I should never have let anyone manage me to the point where I didn’t control my relationship with Brook. That would not happen again.
“So, you want to knock out a quick one?” I teased.
“If I thought you were serious, I wouldn’t say ‘no.’”
Welp, that backfired.
“I better not. Maybe next time,” I suggested.
“Until next time.”
I stepped out into the hall and closed the door. As soon as it was shut, I let out a deep sigh. Was I crazy to leave the door open just a crack that we might hook up in the future? Only time would tell.
I downloaded our talk from the camera and sent the video to Fritz with a note to save that conversation.
◊◊◊
We met Stewart Chadwick; he’d waited for us outside the Marmalade Café. Stewart wasn’t what I expected. I’d guessed he would be an older ex-FBI or big-city-detective type. He was in his mid-twenties and looked to be fresh out of college. I would bet that the NCAA was his first job. When he saw me get out of the car, he had a big smile and came up to me.
“I have to admit that I’m a big fan,” he said as we shook hands.
Fritz sorted out the parking while I introduced everyone.
“I feel a little outnumbered,” Stewart said in a self-deprecating way.
“David wanted you to know that he’s taking this seriously,” Mr. Morris said.
“I have no doubt he is. Why don’t we go in and have a nice meal together and then strategize for your meeting tomorrow?”
I looked at my dad, and he shrugged. This might not be as bad as I first imagined.
Lexi had picked the Marmalade Café when Mr. Morris had suggested somewhere casual. He explained that investigators were based out of Indianapolis and had caps on how much they could expense for meals. I knew all too well how expensive Malibu could be.
Over dinner, we talked about everything but what we were there for. Stewart wanted to know all about my acting and what I was working on now. It was more like I was talking to a fan than an investigator. If his goal was to put us at ease, he’d done an excellent job of it.
Over coffee, the tone of the conversation changed.
“Did you intend for this meeting to be a dry run for tomorrow?” Stewart asked.
“What do you mean?” Mr. Morris asked.
I smiled.
“He means he spotted our bodycams,” I said.
“You mean there’s more than one? I only spotted Mr. Dawson’s,” Stewart said, and I nodded. “If that’s the case, I would say that you should be fine if you changed his.”
Stewart smiled at us.
“Just so we’re clear, I consent to you recording me. I was a little surprised when you suggested an informal meeting. That was what made me suspicious,” Stewart revealed.
“As long as we’re being open about this, what exactly do you expect from tomorrow’s talk with Southwest Central State?” Mr. Morris asked.
“I doubt you’ll get Coach Foster to admit any links between Southwest Central State and Springbok other than their shoe and apparel deal with the university. What I would like to happen is for you to open a dialogue with him and gain his trust. It will take a while before he’s comfortable enough to open up to you. It might take a commitment on your part,” Stewart said.
“David only agreed to the one meeting,” Mr. Morris warned.
Stewart looked surprised.
“From reading his letter of understanding with the NCAA, I thought that he agreed to assist us in the future in exchange for us granting him eligibility. Was I wrong?” Stewart asked.
“David neither ...” Mr. Morris started, but I put my hand up to stop him.
I could tell he was about to go off on a rant. I’d been getting better at reading body language. Stewart Chadwick was used to people underestimating him, and Mr. Morris was about to do just that. Mr. Chadwick was testing our resolve, as well as baiting my attorney.
