Page 47 of Strangers in Love

“Yeah. We’re in for the night.” I’d always hated talking in code, but I understood the need for it. Even with a secure line, we had no way of knowing for sure that no one could hear.

“Good. We found a party so we’ll meet you at the plane first thing.”

“Everyone?”

“We’re all going to get tanked.”

“Make sure you pick up the gifts we ordered.”

“We will.”

At least now I didn’t have to figure out how to go back for the bag I’d left in that dumpster. It’d be better if our stuff got thrown away than if someone found it, but if the guys could swing by the alley and pick up the bag, it’d be better. We’d planned for whoever could get to it before we left. With me being the only one with Aline, I couldn’t have gone myself.

“Good. See you at the plane then.”

“Enjoy yourself.”

I ended the call and put the phone next to my gun. “The others are safe, but they’re too close to the bad guys to risk coming back here. They’ll meet us at the plane in the morning.”

“Can I call my sister?” Aline reached out as if to take the phone.

“Not a good idea,” I said. “The people who had you knew what they were doing. There’s a chance they’re monitoring your parents and your sister, even back in L.A. We don’t want to risk them tracing any calls back here.” She looked upset, and I sympathized, but her safety came first. “As soon as we’re on the plane, heading home, I promise you can call her.”

She didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t argue, so that was a win.

I gestured to a bag in the corner. “Freedom left some clothes for you at Neutral Ground. Bathroom’s through that door. Get cleaned up, and I’ll order us something to eat. Anything you can’t eat?”

She shook her head and picked up the bag. The lock to the bathroom clicked, and I let myself relax as much as I dared. We were almost done.

I went to the phone and dialed down to the desk. We’d had room service twice since we’d been here, so I already knew the limited menu they had available late. That’s why I hadn’t bothered to ask Aline about anything more than allergies. There wasn’t much to get this time of night.

“This is Eoin McCrae in room one fifteen.”

“Mr. McCrae.” The clerk didn’t sound surprised I’d called. “How can I help you?”

“My…companion and I would like something to eat. We need to keep up our strength.” I gave a sleazy laugh that didn’t sound like any sound I’d ever made before. I hated myself for it even though I knew it was a lie.

“Of course, Mr. McCrae,” he said. “What would you like?”

I ordered four sandwiches, one of each kind they offered, and then two of a dessert I’d had the other night. “And I’d like a bottle of champagne if you have some.”

“We do, sir. I’ll send you our best.”

“Great.” I put as much fake enthusiasm into my voice as I could. “I figure if I spoil her a little, she’ll do a whole lot more for me.”

He laughed, and I was glad I hadn’t taken a shower yet. I felt slimy just saying this shit. But that was the whole reason we’d decided to go with this story.

If the staff thought Aline was a prostitute, they wouldn’t look at her too closely. They’d be too embarrassed for her, too judgmental to actuallyseeher. Someone as shameful as a prostitute…they’d be invisible, and that was what we wanted.

“Are you in need of any other…supplies?” The careful way the man asked the question made me think it wasn’t the first time he’d asked it.

“No worries. I brought condoms with me,” I lied.

The delicate cough told me I’d just met every stereotype that man had about rich Americans.

“Very good, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“That’s it. How long will it be? Don’t want to be interrupted.”

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