Page 61 of The Problem with Princes
I grimace. “Yeah. I can see why you might regret that.”
He meets my gaze and holds it for what feels like minutes. “Okay, I get that sharing embarrassing stories isn’t fun. But I still want to hear about it,” he holds up his hand. “When you’re ready to tell me.”
“Tell me about your favorite memory growing up.” Now that he has shared a little bit of himself, I want to know more. I want to know it all.
“Playing hide-and-seek—that is what you call it?— in the olive groves. They are so full when they leaf out. Helena, Barak, and I would hide in the trees for hours at a time.” He grins. “It would take our security forever to find us.”
I laugh. “You played hide-and-seekwithyour security orfromyour security?”
He shrugs. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes,” I chuckle. “I’m sure they can explain the difference very well.” I plop a cherry tomato into my mouth. I can’t believe this is the same guy that spilled coffee on me. It makes me a little sad to think our time is ending.
A sobering thought hits me. Am I going to be one of his embarrassing moments? More than just because of the coffee. Maybe more of a waste of time than an embarrassment. After all, he has done very few embarrassing things while we’ve been together. I want to think what we have is more than just a fling—a duty to fulfill because I saved his life. But then I look down at my leggings and sweatshirt and I just can’t imagine it being anything more for him. Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore.
ChapterTwenty
Sander sitsme down in front of a bank of computer screens. Videos play on six different monitors. I look from one to the next to the next, my mind trying to figure out where to watch first.
Sander sits down next to me. “I know this looks overwhelming, Miss Martindale. But you only need to focus on one of these screens at a time.
I nod and focus on the screen directly in front of me. “Okay. I’ll start with this one.”
Sander motions to the guy sitting to the side, with a keyboard and his own set of monitors. A video plays, with people walking and talking on the sidewalks of Kaysariyyah.
“What time is this?” I ask.
Sander leans in. “This is about twenty minutes before the incident.”
I nod as I watch the screen. Thirty minutes pass on the screen and then forty, but no one seems remotely familiar. What if the guy had taken off his hat after he turned the corner? I’m not sure if I would recognize him without the hat.
“Where is this camera located?”
Sander points at a shop “It’s the street just east of the cathedral.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t see him in that area.” I turn to the computer guy and speak in Greek, because I guess he doesn’t speak English. “Do you have footage of Istiklal Avenue? East of Amailas Street?”
The man nods and soon the screen switches to a new view. It feels the same as the other video, with people milling about. Leaning closer to the monitor, I watch intently for what feels like forever. My eyes are dry from a lack of blinking. And then I see it. The red baseball hat.
I point at the screen. “That’s him.”
Sander squints at the figure. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “One hundred percent.”
We continue to watch the screen. Sander growls. “We never get a clear shot of his face because his hat is pulled down too far.”
The man disappears around the corner of a building and Sander tells the computer guy, Malak, to stop and switch to a different camera. “No. Stay with this one.” I wave at the screen in front of me. “He’ll be coming back.”
The video moves at a faster speed as the computer guy fasts forwards the footage.
“There he is again.” I point at the screen and the video slows back down. The man in the red hat moves down an alley way and out of sight.
Sander swears and slams his fist on the table. “Still nothing. He knew what he was doing.”
“Hey, wait. I think that’s still him.” I jab a finger at the screen. A man steps out of the alleyway, but he’s no longer wearing a baseball hat. He’s added a jacket, but the pants look to be the same, and so do the shoes. He turns, a small piece of red flashing in his back pocket and walks in the opposite direction of the street where the coffee shop is located.
I look at Malak. “Can you zoom in on that? I think he’s still got his hat.”
