by Freya Barker
“Take a little break,” I suggest, but she shakes her head no.
“Can’t. I’m tired of doing nothing, being useless. It’s not like me to sit around while others fix my problems for me.”
“It’s only—“
Her hand comes up immediately to cut me off when I try to tell her it’s only temporary.
“I know, I know—but you wouldn’t be doing nothing if someone had it out for you, right? I don’t have the first clue how to go about nabbing this guy. Not sure whether he’s the same guy from the pool, why he wants to hurt me, or whether he could also be the one extorting money. What I do know is, with his focus somehow on me, there may well be something I know, have seen, or heard, that may be helpful. So I’m writing everything I can remember down.”
“Can I see?”
I let go of her shoulders and take the notepad she hands me and read, leaning my ass against the table. Small tidy handwriting fills three pages; lists with times, dates, and detailed descriptions of events. She even has noted down what she remembers everyone wearing.
“I keep remembering stuff,” she mentions. “Like the thing with Kyle Steele.” My eyes flick over to her as I lower the notepad.
“What about him?”
“Since that time he was being an ass up by the pool and you intervened, I’ve only seen him a handful of times, and mostly from a distance, but each time I would catch him looking at me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me; you’re not exactly hard on the eyes. You probably didn’t notice him looking before.” The snort she emits tells me she might require a bit more convincing on that part.
“Well, this is a tad embarrassing,” she mutters, a fiery red blush creeping up her face. “I would’ve noticed. Grant and I may have shared a little crush on him.” She holds up her hand with thumb and index finger almost, but not quite, touching. “We had a running bet who would be the first to get to talk to him, and we were watching. Most definitely he never once noticed me before.”
“You had a thing for him?” I tease her, pretending to be disappointed. “Wow, and here I was flying high thinking I rescued you by the pool, when all I did was screw up your fantasy.”
“Shut up.” Her words are accompanied by a slap to my arm. “Whatever I found appealing about him on the screen, disappeared the moment he opened his mouth in person.”
She may not quite believe it, but I think Steele is not used to being turned down by a beautiful woman. Like any spoiled rich boy, he craves what he can’t get and the less attainable it becomes, the more he wants it. I don’t doubt once he noticed Rosie, had a sample of her fire, he’d want a taste of her too. I’m not sure if he would’ve respected the cold shoulder she was giving him, but he sure as fuck respected my clear message to leave her alone. At least I assumed he did.
Now I’m not so sure.
“What’s this scribble about Peabody and food?”
She takes the pad from my hand and checks her notes. “Oh, I was just writing down anything out of the ordinary. Remember when Grant got sick? He thought it was a flu and went to the doctor, but it turned out to likely be some kind of food poisoning from the takeout we had one night.”
“You didn’t get sick?” I ask.
“Not really, I didn’t really like it. Maybe it was the taste of the elk meat, I don’t know. I took a small bite of my burger and ended up giving the rest to Grant.” Rosie puts down her pad, gets up from the table, and walks into the kitchen. “The whole thing just seemed strange to me,” she continues as she dives into the fridge and comes up with a couple of beers. “Not only do I know Grant to have a steel-lined stomach, with what he shoves in there, but he’d just eaten at that place the week before with his boyfriend.”
Just as I’m starting to wonder if perhaps the pool and the crash were not the only times Rosie’s life had been threatened, my phone goes off.
“Talk to me.”
“Need you at the hotel.” Yanis’ voice is clipped. “Radar intercepted a message to Steele’s phone from the blackmailer. The source is right fucking here at the hotel.”
“I’m bringing Rosie with me.”
“Fine by me. It gets Drexler off my back, he has a real hard-on for your girl for this, but he won’t be able to deny she couldn’t have sent this last communication.
“I’ll see you in twenty.”
Rosie’s eyes are big as she waits for me to fill her in.
“The blackmailer was in touch. Sounds like things are shaking loose in the hotel, so Yanis wants us there.”
“Us?” she asks nervously, and I take the beer from her hand before hugging her to me.
“Us. Looks like it may have been someone in the hotel, and since you haven’t been in the hotel—or out of my sight—for days, he can prove once and for all to Phil Drexler you have nothing to do with this.”
“That would be one less thing to worry about,” she says as she slips from my grip and heads for the door, grabbing her purse on the way. “Well, let’s go.”
ROSIE
“What are you doing here?”
I swing around to find Grant behind the front desk, leaning on his elbows with his chin on his fists.
“I should ask you that question? Since when are you working a day shift?” I fire back.
“Hutch! You coming?” Yanis is standing by the elevator, holding the door open.
“Honey, I’ve got to go, do you mind hanging out with Peabody for a bit, while I get briefed? Shouldn’t be too long.”
“Sure—go.”
I wave him on his way, but after just two steps he turns on his heels and turns back. Facing Grant, he leans over the desk.
“Don’t let her out of your sight, yeah?”
“I’ll put a leash on her,” Grant quips, drawing protest from me.
“Hey—”
But my words are cut off when Jake tags me behind the neck and yanks me to him. With a warning in his eyes, he slams his mouth on mine, bruising my lips with a hard kiss, effectively silencing me. Right there in the lobby of my place of work. In front of God and everyone, to a loud whooping from Grant.
“Yowza, momma—that was hawt!”
“Hush,” I hiss at him, as I watch Jake cross the lobby with long sure strides to where his boss is still waiting, but instead of the impatient glare I was expecting, Yanis has one side of his mouth tilted in an almost smile.
“Girl, just watching that almost had me bust a nut.”
“Grant!”
I admonish him, but he just raises his eyebrows, purses his lips, and does this little head wobble, clearly unimpressed. With me, of course—he already made it clear he was very impressed with Jake.
“As I was saying earlier, what’s with the day shift?” I change the subject, in hopes distraction will get his mind off my boyfriend and out of the gutter.
Boyfriend.
Christ, I can’t remember the last time I had one of those. I’m not going to pretend that’s not what Jake is, he’s made that much clear, both in words and in actions. And not just because of that kiss. I was used to Chad, and the odd time we were in public, other than for work, he was adamant about his rule; no public displays of affection whatsoever. He also didn’t like the terms ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ but preferred lovers. In hindsight that all makes sense, but at the time I remember it made me feel insecure.
Jake just blew through all of that with a very public claim. He wasn’t hiding me, or ashamed of me. Instead he marked me in front of everyone, including his own boss. If he’d have peed on me it couldn’t have been clearer. Fuck, if that doesn’t make me feel good.
“Are you even listening?” Grant snaps his fingers in front of my face to draw my attention. “Fine friend you are. Asks me a question and don’t listen to the answer. What cloud are you off on?”
“I’m sorry! You were saying?”
“Nothing as exciting as whatever movie reel was playing in your mind that has you looking blissed out, obviously.”
“Please,” I pro
mpt him.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Remember I mentioned switching out my schedule to clear my weekend?” He waits for my confirming nod before he continues, “Charlene is picking up my nights today, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and I’m taking her days, today, tomorrow, Monday and Tuesday. As per Wednesday we’re back on regular rotation.”
“So you came off your night shift this morning and just kept going without sleep?”
“All in the name of love, baby. All in the name of love.”
For the next thirty or so minutes, we catch up between guests at the desk, and the rest of the time I amuse myself with Sudoku on my phone.
Grant is checking in a busload of seniors, who just arrived with a tour that stops here a few times during the summer. A weeklong tour of Colorado parks and conservation areas between Denver and the Utah border. Grand Junction is their mid-tour stop before turning back toward Denver.
For the past five minutes, I’ve been trying to get his attention, but he has his hands full sorting out the old folks. I need to go to the bathroom and waiting becomes increasingly difficult. With a wince I check the remaining lineup in front of the desk. At this rate, it’ll be another half hour at least, before he has them all processed, and I don’t have that long before my body takes matters into its own hands.
The restrooms are on the other side, right past the elevators. Grant doesn’t even notice when I sneak out from behind the front desk and head across the lobby. Just as I pass by, the elevator doors open, and when I turn my head to look, I see Kyle Steele emerging. His eyes lock on mine and a sneer forms on his face. As I noted on my list this afternoon, he makes me very uncomfortable when he’s eyeing me without saying a word, but that is when he smiles. The sneer he sends me now is far more unsettling, and I abruptly swing around to face forward, rushing toward the safe haven of the restroom. Normally, I prefer it when I find a restroom empty, but right now I wouldn’t complain if every last woman on that senior tour were hit with incontinence issues.
Pushing open the door, I groan when I find it completely empty. Ten stalls, and every last door is open. Irrational panic overwhelms me when I realize I’ve just cornered myself into an empty space, and I never bothered telling Grant where I was going. I take a quick peek at the main door, hoping for a lock, but find none. When I get to the first stall, I pull the door shut and am glad when it sticks shut. The third and fourth doors to my right do the same. I manage to get one more to stay shut on the left, and end up getting in the furthest stall on the left, shutting and locking the door behind me. Should he be nuts enough to follow me in here, those closed doors won’t stop him, but maybe they’ll distract him enough to buy me a bit more time.
I wait for a few seconds to see if I can hear anything, but then I have to hurry to get my pants down before I pee them. The relief is only momentary as I empty my bladder. I barely have a chance to wipe before I clearly hear the sound of the spring above the door. Quickly and as soundlessly as possible, I pull up my pants and climb on top of the toilet seat. I wait with bated breath to hear a stall door open. And then another. And another... Whoever is in here is looking. I count three doors, and the sound of footsteps is coming closer. I’m afraid the loud gallop of my heart is bouncing off the tile walls when the fourth door opens. It’s the stall right beside mine and I’m poised to scream.
When loud knocking shakes my door, I let loose with a bloodcurdling shriek.
“Rosie!”
JAKE
“Good to have you back,” Dimi smirks, as I walk into the surveillance room behind Yanis. “Doesn’t look like you missed us much, though,” he says, pointing at the monitor showing the lobby and front desk. “That was quite impressive, wasn’t it, Bree?”
“I frankly didn’t think he had it in him.” I turn around at the sound of her voice to find her grinning ear to ear, on the other side of the room.
“Very funny, you guys. What are we, twelve?”
“Never mind them,” Yanis intervenes. “That’s jealousy talking.”
“You sure you aren’t talking about yourself?” Dimi fires back at his brother, who just shrugs.
“Positive. No way I’d ever lose my head like that over a woman.”
From the corner of my eye I see Bree startle. I’ve always suspected she had more than just a normal passing interest in our boss, but the way her body jerks at Yanis’ words, you’d think the impact had been physical.
“You called me here, how about you fill me in?” I quickly change tracks and Bree shoots me a grateful look. “What was the message you intercepted?” I ask Radar, who has been quietly observing the banter, processing and analyzing his impressions, much like one of his beloved computers would. He hands me a sheet with the message printed out. It’s pretty generic, with a reminder of the threat, a new demand, and instructions for drop off.
“And you picked up on the signal?”
“Came right back to this hotel. Or rather, the city block it takes up,” Radar clarifies. “I can’t exactly pinpoint location within the hotel.”
“So now what?” This question is meant for Yanis, who is keeping an eye on the lobby monitor where a busload of seniors is just filing in.
“Fucking hell,” he swears. “Of all days for that damn tour to show. Radar? What time did that bus get here?”
“Sixteen forty-five.”
“The message came in at a few minutes after three,” Bree fills in.
“Can you see if the conference room is available?” Yanis asks her, to which he receives a curt nod. “Also, check if Simon Berry has left yet. I’d like to set up a meeting with Drexler, Steele, and Berry at some point in the next hour, provided you can locate them all.” Yanis points a finger at me. “You bring Rosie and let’s rattle those cages. Come fucking hell or high water, we’re going to get to the bottom of this.” Bree is already dialing before the boss is done.
“Hutch? Get a load of this.”
I look at the monitor over Dimi’s shoulder and watch as Rosie sneaks out from behind the front desk and zigzags around bodies, suitcases, and a fair number of walkers, to the other side of the lobby.
“Where the fuck is she going?” I mumble.
“Elevators?”
“Keep an eye on her!” I order as I start moving.
Heading through the door, I bypass the elevators and aim for the stairwell. My footsteps echo off the concrete as I run down, two steps at a time. When I shove open the door on the main level, the small hallway in front of the elevators is empty, but I just catch a glimpse of someone walking away and mixing with the crowd in front of the desk. I follow in that direction, scanning for her without success.
She has to be fucking somewhere.
I backtrack to the elevators when I spot the sign for the ladies’ room.
CHAPTER 21
JAKE
Empty.
I thought for sure she’d be in the bathroom. My gut is churning with worry, but also anger. What the hell was she thinking? When I explicitly told her to stick with Grant. I’ll have a bone to pick with him as well.
When I head back into the lobby and check the front desk, there are two people assisting guests, but Grant is not one of them. I walk up and interrupt.
“Do you know where Grant went?” I ask the young woman I’ve seen around the hotel before.
“He just took a break,” she responds, clearly recognizing me. “I would check the coffee shop.”
I thank her and am about to move in that direction when I spot Dimi coming toward me. I gesture for him to follow and he falls in step beside me.
“Any luck?”
I’m about to fill him in, when I see Grant sitting at a table in the coffee shop. Alone. By the time I reach him, I swear steam is coming from my ears.
“Where the fuck is she?” It takes everything out of me not to haul him out of his chair by force, but my volume draws enough attention. “Where’s Rosie?” Agitated, I shake off Dimi’s restraining hand that lands on my shoulder.
“Hutch, chill,” he warns in a low voice. “Let the man answer.”
Grant pushes himself up to his full size and faces me with a carefully blank face. I have to admit; his dead silence is effectively intimidating as he stares me down.
“What’s going on?”
ROSIE
The three of them turn in perfect concert at the sound of my voice.
I stop just a few feet away, a tray with two takeout cups and a couple of muffins I bought for Grant and me in my hand. My eyes dart from one to the other, confused and slightly concerned. I could hear Jake’s booming voice all the way over by the small counter on the side, where I was doctoring our coffees.
They look pissed; Grant is glaring at Jake, Jake is glaring at me. Except Dimi, he looks amused, biting his lip trying to hide a grin as he winks at me.
Then I notice the other coffee shop patrons, most of them seniors off the bus, who are gawking at us. Our little standoff may well be the most excitement they’ve seen in years.
“Sit down,” I hiss, setting the tray on the table. Dimi pulls out a chair immediately, but the other two stay standing. “For Christ’s sake, sit yourselves down,” I repeat impatiently, elbowing Grant in the side, who grudgingly complies. I sit as well, but Jake takes the longest, angry vibes coming off him in waves, before finally he sits as well.
“Isn’t this cozy?” Dimi says, when the thick silence at the table becomes ridiculous.
“Shut up,” Jake and Grant say in unison, immediately falling silent again, and by now I’m working up a good head of steam on my own. Like I don’t have enough going on, without the two most important men in my life at each other’s throats. I love them both, but right now I want to stick them behind wallpaper.
“Okay, why don’t I start then?” Dimi continues, apparently not bothered by the palpable animosity at the table. “We were watching the monitors upstairs and—”
