I mean, yes I could probably argue my case and eventually win him around in my soft, gentle way, but Kaplan would have a hissy fit.
I placed my hand on the glass door entrance and sighed.
Was that so bad?
I closed my eyes.
Yes, that was so bad.
I didn’t think I had it in me to fight Eric on one side and Kaplan on the other.
“Just think about the girls,” I murmured. “What do they need you to do?”
They needed me to shut my trap and get on with finding their captor. If Kaplan’s hunch was right, which I got the impression it always was, then I had to stay the course.
Eric could live without the truth for a little while and then when it was over and the girls were safely back in their homes, I could tell him everything. Yes, he’d be annoyed with me, but after his rant, he’d calm down and let me explain...and then he’d forgive me.
Oh, man, I hoped he would.
He loved my compassion, my inability to turn my back on those in need, but he hated it when I put myself in danger. I’d just have to be extra careful not to do that.
I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.
Plodding up the stairs, I reminded myself of the girls and their plight. They would have to stay my central focus or I wouldn’t make it through this.
I reached the top of the stairs and turned towards my dorm. The door was ajar and I peeked my head in with a smile.
Quella was standing over her suitcases. They were flung open, clothes spilling out of them and over her shoulder.
“Hi, you must be Quella.” I slipped into the room, pasting on a sunny smile and instantly missing Nicole.
Thankfully I’d had lots of practice with forced enthusiasm this afternoon, so it was easy enough to hide my disappointment at being in this position.
I’d be a freaking smile expert when this was over, I could feel it.
Quella’s head snapped around, her dark brown eyes gauging me. Her head tipped to the side like a sparrow, assessing her surroundings.
“Hi.” She gave me a wave, her long, skinny fingers wiggling in the air.
“I’m Caitlyn, but you can call me Caity.” I stuck out my hand and she hesitantly grasped it. It was like shaking hands with a limp fish. I slipped my hand into my back pocket and bobbed my head. “So, welcome to UCLA.”
“Gracias.” She smiled and shook her head. “I mean thank you.”
Her Spanish accent was relatively thick. It was obviously her first language.
She tucked a lock of straight, brown hair behind her ear and began playing with the long strands, running her fingers over the ends.
I pulled her mask away to see how nervous she really was and had to press my lips together to fight my surprise.
Well, wasn’t that interesting?
This coy, little rich girl was anything but. I could see the spark in her eye. There was a wildness to her that was desperate to break free. She was just weighing me up, seeing if I was the girl who could make her college fantasies come true. She was ready to let loose, party, experience every indecent thing college had to offer her.
I could see her hunger for it.
This sheltered home-schooler was ready to unleash and with no Daddy around to stop her, she was going to do exactly that.
“So, um, can I help you unpack?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m trying to decide where I can fit all my clothes. It may take some time.” She was not impressed with the closet space. Lucky for her I wasn’t a shopaholic like Nicole. There’d be major closet wars if those two were rooming together.
I bit back my grin as I imagined the scene.
“I don’t have that much stuff, so feel free to take more of the closet.”
“Thank you.”
Okay - so she was totally expecting me to say that. Probably because she was used to getting everything she wanted.
Putting back Quella’s mask, I did a quick comparison.
She smiled sweetly and pulled out another shirt, draping it over her arm. “Are you sure it’s okay? I do not want to be a bother.”
“Absolutely. It’s not a problem. I’m here to help you with whatever you need.” I smiled.
Her mask slipped in time with my broad grin and I could see her disappointment. What’s the bet she thought I was going to turn out to be just like her sunny, over-helpful nannies. Someone else to mother her and lap at her feet like she’d had all her life.
I nibbled my lip. She was never going to open up to me if I was that to her. I had to give her what she wanted in order to break that sweet, innocent shell. I had to become that person she’d trust as a friend and confide in. I had to be her partner in crime. Damn it!
I wanted to step away so bad. Let her find someone else to cause trouble with. College partying was so not my scene, but I had a job to do and if this girl would open up around me then the chances of a little rhetorical faux pas were that much higher.
Sucking in a breath, I closed my eyes while her back was turned and screamed at myself to man-up and just do it.
Think of the girls, Caity.
The breath whooshed out of me and as she turned to face me, I put on a smirk. “You know what, screw unpacking and closet space. We can do that any old time. It’s Saturday night; we should be out having fun. I know this great bar just around the corner. You’ve got a fake ID, right?”
Her lips parted with a silent gasp before growing into an electric smile. “Not yet.”
“Why don’t we go and do something about that.” I winked.
She let out a little squeal as I reached for my phone and did a quick search. I’d overheard two guys chatting in my class yesterday about a guy in Rieber Terrace who supplied IDs for the newbies. It cost eighty bucks and he’d do it on the spot if you paid more. I Googled his name and soon found his room and contact details.
I linked to his Facebook page and sent a message.
Got a newbie who needs a rush ID. Heard you’re the man for the job. You around now?
Grabbing my wallet, I flicked out the ID card Stella had given me two years ago — Martha Woodgrove. I cringed, still unsure why I’d kept it for so long. Maybe it was for such a time as this. Snatching my skinny jeans off the end of my bed, I wiggled into them and threw off my sundress, picking out my pink, low-cut tank top. I kept my bikini underneath, not feeling comfortable enough to change my underwear in front of Quella yet.
I shoved the ID into my back pocket along with a few twenty-dollar bills and turned to my new roommate who was wiggling into a tight black top that accentuated her breasts. I raised my eyebrows and nodded in approval.
She did a little shimmy and then covered her mouth, letting out a blushing giggle.
I grinned. “You’re gonna need some cash; these IDs can be pricey.”
“No problem. Money is never an issue for me.” Her smile was demure, but I could see the pride behind it.
Hmmmm, spoiled brat hiding behind a good girl mask. I was going to have to play this one carefully.
My phone dinged.
In room for the next hour. Come over right now and I’ll set you up. $150 for a rush job.
“Let’s go.” I slipped the phone back in my pocket and reached for the door.
Quella snatched up her purse, her smile a mixture of jitters and sheer excitement. She’d never done anything like this before and she was loving it.
She followed close behind me, falling in step once we got outside.
“When I missed out on Rush, I was so worried I’d be lumped with some geeky roommate who wanted absolute silence so they could study all the time. It’s such a relief to meet you, Caity.”
“Yeah, you too.” I was desperately trying to think of my high school bestie, Stella, and how she used to behave. She was a party-chick to the max and always played it cool and casual with me.
Hard to get, that’s what she always harped on about.
Be mysterious and hard to get, Caity; it entices peop
le.
Well, it damn well better work, because what I was doing right now went against every instinct in my body. My only comfort was that Quella seemed to be a party virgin. Her sheltered upbringing would do me a world of favors, because hopefully she wouldn’t notice what a total novice I was either.
My mind raced with all the things I needed to consider...
How to get her to open up, yet also keep her out of trouble.
How to keep this new act hidden from my boyfriend.
How to make this work while still keeping everyone around me blissfully unaware of what I was up to.
I rubbed my temple, quickly dropping my hand and shaking it out when Quella looked at me. She didn’t need to know my head was pounding. I was party-girl Caity right now and I needed to act like it.
I threw on a smile as we rounded the corner and headed into Rieber Terrace, silently crossing my fingers that I’d be able to claw my way out of this huge hole I was digging myself into.
Chapter 14
Caitlyn
The bar was noisy and chaotic. We got in without a sweat. The IDs both withstood the test and now, we sat at a little round table drinking beers. Quella offered to buy the first round. I ran my thumb up the cold bottle, carefully sipping at it and hating the flavor. It was an effort not to grimace with each swig. I’d tasted beer before, but never really loved it. I think if I wanted to get rip-roaring drunk, my best bet would be shots. Quick and fast.
Quella gulped down another mouthful of Corona, trying to hide her grimace. She obviously wasn’t used to it either. I’d kept her mask off all evening so I guessed all her expressions were exaggerated to me. She wanted me to think she was cool. The idea of coming across as anything other than sophisticated was humiliating to her. I narrowed my eyes a little, wondering how I could play on that.
I looked across the bar, scanning faces and trying to think how I could get Quella talking with information that would actually help this case. It was pretty damn hard with the pulsing music thrumming through my head, not exactly conducive to intimate conversation, but I highly doubted she’d want to go hang out at the beach.
My eyes traveled back to my drinking buddy, bobbing in her seat like an excited school kid as she sipped at her beer. I noticed some guys leaning against the bar and checking us out. Quella blushed pink, her lips quirking with what she thought was a flirty smile. That was the last thing I needed.
Leaning forward, I touched her arm.
“Don’t be so obvious about it.” I flicked my head at the guys. “Play it cool. Mysterious and hard to get is way sexier.”
Her face blanched. Swiveling away from the guys, she rested her beer on the table. “So, how would you play it then?”
Man! This was so not me!
I didn’t know!
Conjuring up every image I could remember about Stella, I sat back in my chair and swung one leg over the other. “Pretend you haven’t even noticed them or you have, but they’re really not worth your time.”
“Will that make them want me more?”
“Oh yeah.” I took a swig of my beer and licked the gloss off my lips, feeling like a total fraud. Like I honestly knew how to pick up guys! It was a freaking miracle I ever scored Eric! But he wasn’t like these guys. He didn’t lurk around bars trying to pick up chicks; he was all about the genuine article.
I swallowed, guilt singeing me.
“Once we’re done here, we could maybe hit the dance floor.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “That would really make them hungry, don’t you think?”
I nodded and shrugged, trying to play it cool while screaming in my head, “I don’t want to make those douchebags hungry!”
“Let’s finish our drinks first.” I tipped my bottle at her.
Quella nodded enthusiastically and started gulping hers back.
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. “You don’t drink much, do you?”
She pulled the bottle away from her lips, her expression asking me if once again she’d let her complete naivety show through.
I snickered. “Stop trying so hard. Play it cool. You don’t want to get completely wasted while the night is still young. Stretch it out, have some fun.” Okay, Stella would so never say that, but I had certain lines I wasn’t willing to cross. I’d be useless to everyone drunk. Although, it would probably work in my favor to get Quella a little tipsy.
I raised my beer again and took a sip. I subtly spat my mouthful back into the bottle. Super gross, but it was starting to make me queasy and I had to keep my head in the game.
Thankfully, Quella didn’t notice and took another sip, but some of it dribbled down her chin and she scrambled for a napkin. I handed one to her and put on a pitiful look.
She wiped her mouth and winced. “I guess I am so obvious. I scream small town, don’t I?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Parents pretty strict, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “My father. Yes.”
Although her tone was scathing, I could see how much she adored the man. She obviously had no idea of his creep factor. I couldn’t help wondering for a split second if Kaplan had it wrong. Was Mendez really behind this?
“It is a miracle he even let me come here.”
My insides pinged. Was I about to get some goods on her dad? I took a second to respond, wanting to maintain my casual, slightly disinterested demeanor.
“Oh yeah? Where did he want you to go?”
“Correspondence school.”
“No shit! That would have sucked.”
“I’ve been home-schooled my whole life and dreaming of this day for years. I’ve begged to go to a real high school ever since I was thirteen.”
“Well, high school kind of sucks, so you got the better end of the deal, believe me.”
Considering she’d been so sheltered, I was surprised by her confidence. If I’d been in a sheltered, home-school situation all my life, going into a crowded bar and throwing back beers would have been like stress city! Quella was obviously not like me.
“So, what do you think changed your dad’s mind?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We fought about it for nearly a year and then one day, about two months ago, he suddenly surprised me with college applications.” She grinned, looking triumphant as she took another mouthful of beer. “He said I had to go to a school in either California or Arizona.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“We have houses in several places, but we spend most of our time in the south-west.”
“Nice. Your dad must be loaded.”
Her grin was wicked and a little smug. I was starting to get a picture of her upbringing. This girl had never wanted for anything.
“What does he do?”
She shrugged, her face giving me nothing. Damn it!
“Some boring job where he travels and meets with other businessmen. He does not talk much about his work, but I would say my father is an entrepreneur.”
Okay, so she obviously didn’t really know.
“Always looking for ways to make money, huh?” I smiled.
“He is a smart man. Many fingers in many pies and it makes him mucho money, so I will not complain.” She giggled.
I raised my beer, forcing myself to look impressed. “To wealth.”
“To freedom.” She lifted her bottle and clinked it against mine, letting out a loud whoop. “Come, Caity. We must dance!”
Her command was hard to argue with, especially when she grabbed my wrist and yanked me away from the table. We jiggled our way onto the squished floor and I tried to look as though I loved this kind of thing.
Quella was in her element, her hips swaying rhythmically. She was a damn good dancer and I felt like I had two left feet. It didn’t take long for the guys to swarm upon us. I inched back, not really wanting to get into their line of fire, but it didn’t work. I bumped straight into a tall guy with dark green eyes, short wood-dust hair and a well-manicured beard. It was short, like a fine dusting of hair on
his face.
He had an angular look about him, square jawline, prominent nose, but what really drew my attention was his intense expression. He was in a bar, surrounded by revelers, and he looked completely serious.
Why the hell was he out here on the dance floor when he obviously didn’t want to be?
Moving to the beat, he forced a few subtle moves, but I could see behind his mask and he was hating this...just like me, which meant he was either here because his partner was forcing him out of the house to have a little fun or he had something else on his mind.
He smiled down at me, yelling above the music. “You seem pretty young to be in a place like this.”
“Maybe I’m not as young as you think.” I don’t know what made me get cocky, but I somehow felt like I had to prove myself to this guy.
“I don’t know. You seem pretty out of your depth.”
My eyes narrowed.
Wait a second. This guy knew me.
He wasn’t being forced here by a girlfriend, he was here for work.
I stopped dancing and resisted the urge to put my hands on my hips. “So which one are you then? Rex or Eddy?”
His eyes rounded slightly and I threw his mask back on, realizing he’d actually been playing it pretty damn cool.
I chuckled. He frowned.
Placing his hand on my hip, he forced my body to get dancing again before finally muttering, “You can call me Rhodes.”
It was hard to hear him, but I watched his lips and leaned towards his ear. “Rex Rhodes?”
He made a face.
“Eddy then.” I nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
His green eyes turned a shade darker before flicking over my shoulder. His unmasked expression blanched a little and he threaded his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
I started to push back, but he squeezed me to him and mumbled, “She’s looking at us.”
I pressed my lips together and reluctantly swung my arms around his neck. “I thought you were supposed to be monitoring this situation from a distance.”
Snake Eyes (The Masks Series Book 3) Page 7
