Concierge

by Stella Barcelona

  “How do you know?” Gabe asked.

  “Because I know where Monica is. Hiding out is different from being missing.”

  “Who is she hiding from? And why?”

  “Now if I told you that, then I’d be spreading her business, wouldn’t I? And I’m not that kind of guy.”

  Gabe stared into Richie’s eyes. “Look. I’m not asking you to help me here. I’m asking you to help Pic. The kid’s sick. In fact, he’s lucky he’s not in the hospital. I’m trying to keep him off the streets so he can get better, but he’s going crazy with worry over her.”

  “He’s not the only one. Dude who got her pregnant sure wants to get a hold of her, as well. That’s why she didn’t show up at that doctor’s appointment. I told her not to go. Because if you and Pic knew that she was supposed to be at the clinic, I can promise you, the baby’s daddy did as well.” Richie drew a deep breath. “Look. Why don’t I come over and talk to Pic?”

  “Easier if he could simply call her.”

  “She doesn’t have a phone.”

  “Do you?”

  “Nah. Mine’s on the fritz. Too expensive to fix. French Quarter, Marigny, Treme, Bywater. These neighborhoods make up the oldest village in the good old U.S. of A. People walk places. Some people live their whole lives within these neighborhoods. People talk face to face here. Where else does that happen these days?”

  Gabe glanced at Marvin, who nodded. “Accurate.”

  “People who live on the streets here are used to communicating the old-fashioned way, and—” Richie’s grin was broad, and he opened his arms wide in a ‘look-at-me’ pose. “You’re looking at part of the pony express. Look. I’d like to check in with Pic. See how he’s doing. I’ll get a message from him to Monica. That way he’ll stay put and get better.”

  Gabe nodded. “Sure. Eight a.m.?”

  “Hell no. I’ll be asleep by then. Let’s see. Bar closes at three thirty or so. I told the manager I’d stay and help the cleaning crew. It sucks cleaning toilets at Mardi Gras, but the pay is good. I’ll pass by Andi’s around five thirty a.m.”

  “You’ve been there before?”

  “Not inside, dude. But everyone knows where she lives. You know, we street people look out for her, too. Just like she looks out for us. From far away,” he said, shrugging, “but it works.”

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Andi

  She heard Gabe coming up the stairs. As he paused in the doorway of her studio, she shivered as she took in the darkness that seemed to surround him—not only in his black slacks, turtleneck, and shoes—but in the deep, deep concern in his light eyes. “Want to help me think through some things?”

  “Sure.”

  He walked over to her, and opened his hand, revealing a small plastic bag. “Here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A spare earpiece, for you to use. This is the best way to have a three-way. Ragno’s going to call when she gets a break, somewhere in the next ten or so minutes. We’ll bring you up to speed on Ragno’s research, and the three of us are going to put our heads together.”

  Andi put the paintbrush down. The gravity in his eyes told her he was worried. If he was this worried, her scarf, sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks weren’t going to be warm enough.

  “You found Richie?”

  “Yeah. I want to talk it over with you and Ragno.” His eyes met hers for a second. “If you feel up to it.”

  “Yes,” she said, without hesitation.

  “There are also things that Ragno’s uncovering on Pic that you should know. I know we’re not exactly on the same page, but I hope you’ll hear us out, then agree we need to do a bit more digging.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what we were talking about earlier. I know you’re right. I know we need to dig into the facts. I just don’t want to lose his trust.”

  He drew a deep breath. “I promise you that we will figure out a way to help him, and we’ll build up his trust.”

  “Okay,” she said. She breathed in deep, hesitating, then deciding to go forward with the question Gabe had asked earlier. “He did attempt suicide. Before he came to New Orleans.”

  “After you and I talked, we assumed he did. According to Cavanaugh, those scars are too telling. I’m going to be honest here. One part of me wants to protect you from all of this. I’d love to keep you in the dark. But I respect you too much not to let you know what I’m hearing.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Don’t think I’d like you too much if you kept silent.”

  She opened the plastic pouch and poured the device onto her palm. It felt weightless. Three clear filaments, of varying lengths and thicknesses, were attached to a silver tube that was a little larger than a grain of rice. “Wow. So small.”

  “We’re working on making it smaller.” Gabe removed his, then showed her how to insert the device into her ear. “It receives and transmits when paired with our watches. It’ll pick up your voice and voices within a few feet of you. Receiving and transmission functions work through each filament. The longest filament wraps around your outer ear. It keeps the thing in place. Insert the shortest filament first, before the device. It picks up vibration in your bones as you speak. Use your little finger to push it into your left ear. You’re left-handed, so assume that’s your dominant side for hearing. Get it into the canal as far as it’ll go.”

  “Not sure how.”

  “Trick is to push it in while you’re hooking the outside line to the back of your ear, and keeping the medium-length one out of your ear.”

  She followed his instructions, then turned her head to the side so he could see. “Feels weird. Like this?”

  “Not exactly. You barely have it in.”

  “Can you fix it?”

  And wrap your arms around me while you’re doing that, because I’m freezing. You’re suddenly a little too good at giving me space. I’m not that fragile. Not with you, at least.

  He closed the foot or so of distance between them. She felt his fingers running through her hair, smoothing tendrils down as he pressed the filament along the back of her ear.

  “It tickles,” she whispered.

  He leaned in, kissed her cheek, then slipped his finger into the neck of her sweatshirt, and pulled the band. “Damn. Did my chokehold give you this bruise?”

  Since Tuesday, he’d increased her workouts to two a day. And he’d been encouraging her to take her self-defense moves out of the exercise room. It was all about building confidence, so she could fight past her tendency to hesitate. Think. Then implement. If you have to, play possum while you plan your attack. Then come up with a plan, and implement it. Try to fake me out. Try to shock me. Try to hurt me.

  He’d encouraged her to make sneak attacks on him, and on Thursday morning, she had managed to surprise him with a kick that almost made it to his groin. He’d moved to the side, then gripped her in a chokehold, which he then taught her how to fight her way out of. They’d ended that with a marathon kissing session as they had once again become Brad and Sandy, driven by pure lust, yet hampered by virginal restraint.

  “Probably. Doesn’t matter, though. I’m still going to kick your ass one day. My goal is to knock you flat on your butt, when you least expect it.”

  “That’s big talk.”

  “Not just talk. One day, I’ll do it.”

  He chuckled. “I have no doubt you could do it to ninety-nine percent of the people you encounter. But not me. Not in this lifetime. Keep trying, though.”

  As she inhaled his scent—deep, musky male and lingering pine from the soap that he used—he drew her to him. And suddenly, it wasn’t about the mic or the bruise. She knew it, by the way his breath caught, by the meandering feel of his touch, by the way he pulled her closer.

  “This mic isn’t live now, is it?” She tried not to groan. She shut her eyes as his warmth and strength enveloped her.

  “No,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper into her ear. “Audio’s off. I’m listening to my agents, but t
hey can’t hear me. I control your device from my watch. Ragno’s calling in a few minutes. She’s assisting agents in Budapest and working with a team in Kosovo. She’s a master multi-tasker.” She felt his lips on her neck. “So, that’s a long way to say we’re alone. Is this an okay way to kill a few minutes?”

  “God, yes.” She shifted closer to him, leaning into his chest. She pressed her head into his fingertips, focusing on how it felt for him to apply whisper light touches along the back of her ear, neck, and jawline. “I haven’t been able to get warm tonight.”

  “Your scarf’s in the way.” He unraveled it, let it fall to the floor, then bent his head to her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It is.”

  Focusing on her right ear, which wasn’t wearing the mic, he planted kisses along her earlobe, and down her neck.

  “This too much for you?” As he spoke, the moistness of his breath chilled the path that he’d kissed. In a good way.

  “God, no.” She shivered. Not from cold, but from sizzling sensations throughout her body, originating with the touch of his lips, his fingertips, and his strong arm now loosely wrapped around her body. “Your arm around my back, feels like…heaven. God.” Bending her head to his chest, she inhaled. “You smell so good.”

  “This call’s going to…” his words trailed as he opened his mouth, pressing his tongue along the path that his lips had blazed, from her earlobe down her neck, “take a few minutes. Think we should…” she felt the smallest of nips along her earlobe, a gentle nibble with the edges of his teeth, “take this to the couch?” His lips closed on the area that he’d bitten, sucking gently.

  She couldn’t move. She could only lean into him, and nod, with her palms pressed into his chest as she arched into his kisses.

  She was suddenly in his arms. He walked over to the couch, and sat down. Sitting sideways in his lap, as he kicked off his shoes, there was no mistaking that he was as aroused as she was. His erection pressed into her right butt cheek. Long. Thick. Straining against her. She shifted away.

  His eyes locked on hers. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she whispered, feeling very much like the awkward virgin she’d been pretending to be. “I’m almost there, Gabe—”

  “My problem. Not yours. But I can’t do much about it getting between us.”

  “I don’t want to keep getting you so hot and bothered.”

  “Please. Get me hot. Bothered. I don’t mind at all.”

  “This Brad and Sandy thing has to be wearing thin for you.” God knows it is for me.

  “Not at all. You like when I kiss you,” he whispered, moving his lips closer, to her neck again, “right?”

  “Yes.” She sighed as he applied pressure with his lips to the sensitive spot where her neck met her ear, then gave up on avoiding his erection.

  “Then we’re going to keep having moments like this until you’re ready.” He gave a hoarse chuckle. “And that will just have to be in the way.”

  She lifted herself up by using his shoulders and her arms, then shifted her legs so they spread around him. Crossing her ankles around his back, she gave him a smile. With her legs open, and her center pressed against his erection, she wriggled her hips closer. “Brad, you’re really,” she whispered, rubbing herself against him, “really big.”

  Eyes lidded, his lips wet from the soft tongue action accompanying his kissing on her neck and ear, he groaned. He bent forward, his lips working at her earlobe again. “Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re making me harder.”

  “I like this PG-rated dirty talk.”

  He chuckled, hoarsely. “Can I tell you that even with fabric separating us, I can feel how hot you’re getting? Wet. Is that how you like PG-rated?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes, bending her head against his shoulder. Feeling human again. Feeling alive. And not wanting to spoil one precious second of it. “And you know, I’ve been thinking. I’ve got hands, too. I could help with some relief…” She reached for the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button, sliding the zipper down.

  He groaned, then caught her hands, stopping her. “Mm. Not now. Like I said, Ragno’s going to… Aw. Hell. Here she is.” He moved awkwardly around her, shifting his hands and arms and touching a button on his watch. “Hi, Ragno. Give me a minute.”

  He touched his watch again. Drawing a deep breath, he lifted her chin in the crook of his finger. “She’s on mute. She’ll give me a few seconds. But not much more. For all she knows, I was on the toilet.”

  Andi laughed. “Did you really say that?”

  “Sure. Sex, showering, and toileting are usually the only three things that keep me from answering her right away.” He kissed her lips, pulling the zipper up, and buttoning. “And she’s a female. She usually doesn’t want an explanation, so we’re good. You okay?”

  Andi nodded as she pressed her lips against his. His evening stubble felt sharp against her chin. Rough. Perfect.

  “Oh yeah,” he groaned, then lay his head, with a thud, on the back of the couch. “Our time’s up. Ragno will be refocused in a heartbeat on a live fire situation in Pakistan or some other remote area of the globe if I keep her on hold too long. Ready to meet my best friend?”

  “Sure.”

  “Here goes,” he said.

  “About damn time. Was just about to drop you.” Through the mic, Ragno’s voice—distinctly feminine, slightly rushed, and more than a little annoyed—came through, as though she was sitting on the couch with them. “Do you have any idea how many jobs I’m working? While running more scenarios than I care to admit for you? It’s walking like a duck, Angel, as I’ve said for the last two days. I’m delivering a ‘come-to-Ragno’ moment with this call. By the way, what the hell are you doing over there that you had me on pause for so long…”

  While Ragno continued, Gabe lifted Andi’s chin with his index finger. “Sound okay?”

  “Sound okay? What the hell—”

  “Andi’s on the line with us,” Gabe answered.

  After a few seconds of total silence, Andi said, “Hi, Ragno. Nice to meet you.”

  “You too. Sorry, Andi. You certainly didn’t need to hear my rant. Agents normally don’t surprise me with three-way calls that include the client. Usually, with Angel, I know exactly what he’s up to. I might be a bit slow on the uptake, but now...” She paused. “Good Lord. That’s why you sound like that, Gabe. I’m getting it. All. Loud and clear.”

  “Come on. I’m not that readable.” Gabe swung his legs up onto the couch. Lifting the blanket, he gave Andi room to reposition herself. She draped herself over him—her legs stretched out inside his, her hips right below his waist, and her chest against his. A perfect fit. He covered them both.

  “To me, you are.” A teasing tone told Andi that Ragno had guessed exactly what was happening between them. Or maybe, there was no guessing involved. She glanced up, and threw a questioning glance in his direction.

  With a shrug, he mouthed, almost silently, “She’s got ways.”

  “Speak up, Michael Gabriel Hernandez. No whispering if we’re having a three-way.”

  “Sorry Ragno,” Gabe said, “I was saying you have ways of knowing things. Andi needs to know that I can’t keep secrets from you, and even if I tried, you’d figure it out. That’s why you two needed to meet now.”

  “Yes. All true. And just in case you’re unaware, Andi, this is big. You’re the first woman, friend, girlfriend—you label it—that he’s brought home to Ragno, ever! Sorry, Angel. I thought she should know. Yay. Special moment. Let’s mark it. Andi, usually, with Angel—”

  “Love his nickname,” Andi said.

  Ragno laughed. “Only I get away with it. I’m not referring to sweet, innocent cherubs, by the way. Gabe’s named after two Archangels, which makes him damn powerful. And like the Archangels, our man here is tasked with mighty deeds. Trust me, he’s got the power to complete them. Don’t let that smile and his jokes fool you. There’s a hell of a lot of depth
to him. And by the way, while we’re off task, Angel, Zeus is looking for you. Evidently your brother and Brandon are communicating, because Andi and Taylor are communicating. You fill in the dots. Zeus said you haven’t returned his call today. Let’s just say our Polaris is getting a bit miffed that you’re not responding to his light beam.”

  “His message didn’t say anything was urgent,” Gabe said. “I’ll call him in the morning.”

  “As a matter of fact, while you had me on hold, he sent me a text asking if I’d heard from you. And you know how he gets when you go non-communicative. He starts asking me questions. And Andi, just to clue you in, although I figure out 99.99999 percent of what Gabe’s up to, I don’t spread it around.”

  “Good to know,” Andi said.

  “Tell Zeus I’ll call him later. And I’m not hiding anything, so answer away.”

  Silence. No words, no typing. Andi wondered whether the mic system had stopped working. With her index finger, she touched her ear. The external filament was still there. With her pinkie, she felt for the device.

  “Really?” Dry sarcasm was apparent in Ragno’s cryptic answer, which confirmed that the mic was firmly in place. Her one-word answer also indicated to Andi just how much their words were merely the tip of a deep connection between the two of them. “Pardon my bluntness, Andi, but Angel, are you really ready to discuss with Zeus and his partners whatever is happening between you and this favored client?”

  Gabe shifted under Andi, kissing the top of her head. “Okay. Got it. And I’ll handle that end of it.” Andi felt his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. “Back on task, Ragno, before you get called away. I want to run a couple of things by you and have you bring us up to speed on what you’re finding out about Pic.”