“What if I want to become a fucking statistic?” I clapped a hand over my mouth almost immediately, but the damage was done. “I’m sorry.”
Rather than fire me, Alaric just laughed. “I’ll give you eleven out of ten. Hell, I’ll even make you a certificate.”
“But we’ve never…”
Shut up, Beth. This was a conversation I definitely didn’t want to be having.
“No, but I’ve got good instincts.” He tugged me closer, and I drew in a sharp breath. “And right now, those instincts are telling me not to set a gazelle loose among the lions. The moment we find Ryland, I’m burning both of our membership cards.”
Shereen walked out of the changing room, and I gritted my teeth as I sagged against Alaric. This undercover thing sure was awkward. She gave me a thumbs-up from behind his back, then headed towards the sauna.
“I already found Ryland,” I mumbled into Alaric’s shoulder.
“Come again?”
Please, no, it was awkward enough the first time.
“His picture’s on the wall in the ladies’ changing room. Ryland Willis. Average score of seven-point-three, currently unavailable. And he hasn’t been to work since Saturday.”
I felt Alaric’s smile as he kissed my hair, and that made me smile too. I’d actually achieved something in my new job, and it felt better than selling the most expensive painting at the gallery.
“Bethany, I love you, in a purely work-related way, of course.” His words were playful, but I still shivered in his arms. The air conditioning was on too high. That was it. “Now that we’ve got a surname, let’s find out where he lives and get the hell away from here.”
Find out where Ryland lived? Sure. Piece of cake. No problem.
“How the heck do we do that?”
CHAPTER 38 - BETHANY
I LIMPED AROUND the corner towards the reception desk, leaning on the wall as I went, hoping to goodness that I looked suitably in pain. Wayne leapt up the instant he saw me.
“Are you okay?”
What do you know? I was a better actress than I thought.
“Fine, fine.” I let out what I hoped was a convincing groan. “I just twisted my ankle on the treadmill, that’s all.”
“Do you need an ambulance?”
“Gosh, no.” I tried a smile. “But if you have a bag of ice…”
“Uh, I’m not meant to leave the desk unmanned. Perhaps someone upstairs could give you a hand?”
“I asked a guy upstairs. Gary? But he said he was right in the middle of a training session and that you’d be able to assist.”
“The freezer’s in the break room, and that’s in the basement.”
“I’ll stay right here. If anyone arrives, I’ll tell them you’ll be back in two minutes.” I put a little weight on my “bad” foot and winced. “I’d be ever so grateful.”
“Two minutes…” Wayne weighed up the options—leave a new member in agony or abandon his post for the briefest of periods. In the end, chivalry won out. Shereen’s friends had him well trained, it seemed. “Just ask anyone who comes in to wait, okay?”
“Absolutely.”
The instant Wayne disappeared down the stairs to the left of the desk, I beckoned Alaric forward from around the corner.
“Did you hear? Two minutes.”
“Got it.”
He gave a hop-jump like a basketball player leaping for a shot and knocked the overhead security camera out of range before sliding into Wayne’s seat behind the desk. The first thing he did was jam a USB drive into a slot on the side of the computer.
“In case we can’t get what we need right now,” he explained. “The stick contains a program that’ll give Naz a backdoor into the system if we need it.”
So Naz was the IT guy, and his activities weren’t entirely above board. Did that bother me? Apart from the parking tickets Piers used to berate me for and the animal-rights-related indiscretion in my teens, I’d always been a law-abiding citizen, but now I realised the rules weren’t entirely black and white. Yes, hacking might be technically illegal, but Naz would only be doing it to find Gemma. And I’d lied my own ass off this morning to help her as well as stealing Ryland’s photo from the noticeboard in the changing room.
I positioned myself by the stairs, thankful they were tiled rather than carpeted so I’d hear Wayne when he came back. My whole body tingled with nervous energy. Fear of getting caught versus the excitement of doing something slightly illicit. Was Alaric worried? He looked cool as a cucumber as he tapped away at the keys.
Oh, shit. The front door swung open, and a guy walked in. Early twenties, walked with a bit of a swagger, and he definitely needed to hitch up his tracksuit bottoms because I could see most of his underwear.
“Hey, brother. You new here?”
Alaric glanced up. “Yeah, I’m covering for Wayne.”
As usual, his London accent was on point, and how on earth did he stay so composed? I was shaking.
“Look, I know the rules, but I forgot my membership card. Just this once, could you let me in?”
“Aw, man. I’m meant to do things by the book.” Alaric glanced both ways. “Go on. Just don’t tell anyone, yeah?”
The guy gave him a fist bump on the way past. “My mouth stays shut.”
Whew.
Another minute passed, according to the clock on the wall. Every second felt like an hour, and a bead of sweat rolled down my back just as I heard footsteps approaching. Uh-oh.
“He’s coming back.”
“Almost done.”
“Now! He’s halfway up the stairs.”
Move, move, move!
Alaric waited until the last possible moment to leave the desk, utterly unruffled as he strolled in my direction. Me? I was hyperventilating.
Wayne held out a bag of ice. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve gone kinda red.”
“Yes, really. I just need to go and lie down.”
But Alaric helped me over to a chair instead. “Sit here with the ice for a minute, babe. Don’t push things.”
Oh, this was excruciating. We were literally hanging out at the scene of the crime, and Alaric was discussing football with Wayne, not a care in the world. Had he got the address? Please say he’d got the address. Was Alaric in the habit of pulling stunts like this often? Because if I did this more than, say, once a year, I’d have a heart attack before I hit forty.
The pair of them must have discussed half the clubs in the Premier League, and my perfectly mobile ankle had frozen solid by the time Alaric helped me to my feet. I gave Wayne a wave, then limped out the door, which was made far easier by the fact that I couldn’t feel my left foot anymore.
“Nice,” Alaric murmured. “Are you looking for a promotion already, my sweet? Secretary to spy?”
“I think my heart’s about to give out. Did you find Ryland’s details?”
“According to his membership information, he lives in Hounslow.”
Thank goodness. “Can we go straight there?”
“Not without doing some research.”
“But what if Gemma’s being held against her will?”