“Everything okay?” Mia asks, squeezing my hand.
I lean over and brush my lips over hers. “Just coordinating with Blake. He’s bringing his wife,” I add, not certain if I’ve mentioned this to her before now. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. Anyone who can help us get this behind us, and get Ri’s influence out of your operation, is exactly what we need.”
A profoundly Mia response. She’s selfless. She’s giving. She’s a warrior. Somehow I need her to see that feeling shaken and scared, human responses to trauma doesn’t change that. “Are you hungry?”
“A little,” she says, which isn’t Mia. She’s always hungry.
“How about our favorite Chinese place?” I ask, trying to offer her what she’s craving. Normalcy. A walk down memory lane, from our past, the part we both missed.
Her lips curve. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Now, or after Blake and Kara leave?” I query.
“After they leave.” Her delicate little brow furrows. “Well, unless we need to feed them?”
“They know we need time to decompress.”
“Then after they leave.” She smiles again. “Like old times.”
“Like old times.”
A few minutes later, Adrian turns right instead of left, and my cellphone rings. It’s Blake. “Why am I certain I won’t like this call?”
“There’s a news team that just brought in cameras. Someone tipped them off that you’re back. They’re at every door. You’re going to deal with this tomorrow morning. Don’t do it tonight. I reserved the Ritz presidential suite for you. Take it, man. We’ll meet you there.”
A muscle in my jaw begins to tick and I glance at Mia, prepared to explain. “I heard,” she says. “I don’t have any work clothes with me.”
Blake responds to her through me. “Kara and I can go to your place and grab what you need.” I intend to repeat this to Mia, but she holds up a hand.
“I heard again.” She presses her fingers to her temples and nods, before casting me a sideways look. “If it’s what we need to do, it’s what we need to do.”
“We’ll meet you at the hotel,” I say, and then call out to Smith and Adrian. “The Ritz,” before I speak to Blake again. “How long are we going to be stuck there?”
“I’d give it a week. We’ve already made arrangements to get you in and out of your offices tomorrow without challenge.”
I don’t ask how. I trust Blake. The problem is that my staff won’t. They’ll be overwhelmed. They’ll be shaken. “Like I said. We’ll see you at the hotel.” I disconnect, and speak to Mia. “Sorry, baby. Not the homecoming you were hoping for, I know.”
“But it’s still the right decision. You have to be at the office tomorrow. We have to be at the office tomorrow. Everyone needs to see that we’re good. That we’re okay.”
I cup her face and tilt her gaze to mine. “You, woman, are my superhero.”
“Funny,” she says, covering my hand with hers. “I was going to say the same about you. Room service in bed with you is my new goal for the night. I mean, how many girls get to sleep in the presidential suite with her future husband and it’s not even her honeymoon yet?”
“At this moment, I believe my father would say, ‘You chose well, my son. You chose well.’”
“And then he’d order us one of everything on the dessert menu,” Mia says. “Because that’s how he dealt with things. He always found the good stuff everywhere.”
“Are you suggesting we order everything on the dessert menu?” I tease.
“Well, sir, if you want to curl a girl’s toes, that’s certainly an option.”
“Or?”
“I’ll let you figure that one out.” She kisses me and laughs, and that laugh is a symphony in a firestorm. It’s a promise that at least for now, she’s in a better place. And it’s up to me to keep her there, which I’m getting the feeling from Blake might be a larger than hoped for task. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be bringing his wife as a back-up.
Which leads to the question: Is Ri so damn devious that he’s still coming at me from the grave?
CHAPTER TEN
Mia
We arrive at the hotel and Walker is cautious, arranging our entry through a side door, where we won’t be spotted. That they feel the need to do this does nothing to calm my nerves. What does calm my nerves is Grayson. We exit the backseat of the SUV and his hand is at my waist: protective, possessive, and amazingly, I feel the sizzle of his touch. That’s how reactive I am to this man. I’m wearing a coat, I’m a nervous wreck, and I’m aware of him on every level.
Once we’re inside the hotel, we are herded to a staff elevator and it’s a quick ride before we’re inside a room that is larger than many apartments. There’s a living area, dining room, bedroom, and sitting area. There’s even a kitchen. I know this because it’s not my first time in a Ritz presidential suite with Grayson.
For now, we’re in the entryway, and Grayson helps me off with my coat while Smith and Adrian crowd the hall next to us. Grayson hangs up my coat and I turn to watch him shrug out of his own, all that perfect muscle and manliness a welcome distraction. He watches me watch him, his stare burning as it meets mine, his hands catching my arms. I’m hauled forward against Grayson as Smith and Adrian are smart enough to head on into the living room.
“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re going to the bedroom and shutting the door.”
My teeth scrape my bottom lip and slip away, my intent is to be playful, but that’s not what happens. “I love you,” I whisper.
His eyes soften, worry I didn’t intend to stir bleeding into them. “I love you, too. Baby,—”
There’s a knock on the door. I push to my toes and kiss him. “I’m good. Remember?”
“No. No, you’re not, but we’ll walk the fire together.” He kisses me hard and fast. “Let’s get this over with.” He sets me away from him and Smith is now back in our small space.
“I’ll get that,” he says.
The degree at which we’re being protected feels excessive, as if there’s something we don’t know. I need out of this tiny space and I quickly hurry down the hallway to the living room, where Adrian is standing in front of the desk off the right wall, arms folded in front of him. I pass him by and sit down on the cream-colored couch, setting my purse on the simple but expensive walnut coffee table.
Hushed voices sound in the hallway in what is obviously a discreet conversation. A conversation they want to have without me. Adrian seems to react. He sits down in the chair next to me. “There was a mama tomato, a papa tomato, and six baby tomatoes. One of the babies falls behind and the mother rushes to her child and yells, ‘Catch Up!’”
I laugh despite myself. “That is the stupidest joke ever.”
“Then I’ll assume that you haven’t heard many stupid jokes.”
It’s in that moment that Grayson and Smith appear with Blake—a tall, good-looking man, with long dark hair tied at his nape. Also present is Kara, Blake’s wife, a pretty, petite brunette who like Blake is in jeans and a Walker Security T-shirt. She was there the night Ri attacked me. She’s someone I trust.