Page 40 of Marlowe Banks, Redesigned
“Funny. You struck me as more of a vegan cooking classes girl.”
“Nailed it.” She tipped her head onto Edith’s back, growing more and more sleepy by the second now that she wasn’t on the go anymore. “What are we on, number four? How do you really feel about all the fan photos and autographs?”
He shrugged and plucked another blade from the underbrush.
“I think it’s amazing that people want to connect with me, or at least that they want to connect with whoever they think I am. Without fans, I’d still be playing dog walker number two.” He peered past Marlowe to smile at Edith. “So I appreciate the energy. If signing my name or taking a photo makes someone happy, it’s the least I can do. But”—he leaned toward Edith as though he was addressing her personally—“given the choice, I’d slide through the world unrecognized. No photos. No autographs. No one posting diatribes about what a raging dick I am if I didn’t stop and smile for them.”
“Mmm,” Marlowe mumbled, still sinking closer to sleep.
“My turn. I’ve got a tough one for you.”
“Fire away.”
“What in the hell is in your hair?”
“Oh. That.” Marlowe straightened up, patting a crusted patch over her right ear. “An article about us went up this morning. Apparently I lured you away from Tanareve. Not sure how I managed it, but wow, some of your fans arepissed.”
Angus went still, watching her melt against the dog again.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“You did try to warn me.”
“I’m still sorry.” His forehead rippled with concern. “Can I make it up to you?”
She shook her head in a lazy, lolling way. Then the question sank in. “How?”
“What are you doing after work?”
“Is that your last question?”
“Sure, if that’s yours.”
“Works for me.” Her eyes glazed over as she stared out at the parking lot. “Number one, shower. Number two, locate a Laundromat that’s open late on weekends since I’m completely out of clean clothes, and thus, my current attire. I’d wait until tomorrow but Babs might knock down my door, waving another impossible to-do list. Number three, mute my phone. Number four, sleep until the end of time.”
He squinted at her and she was struck once again by how beautiful he was, though if she hadn’t thought so, she wouldn’t have been caught in that dance and her hair would be shake-free right now. Damn, pheromones were a bitch.
“You don’t have your own washer and dryer?” Angus asked.
“You’re out of questions. And that one smacks of privilege.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He held out a palm. Marlowe frowned at it, unsure what he was getting at. He inched his palm closer. “Your phone. I know a place that’s open all night. They also have amazing showers, comfortable beds, and Do Not Disturb signs.”
“You mean a hotel with laundry services?”
“Something like that.”
“I doubt it’s in my budget.”
“It’s cheaper than you might think.”
Marlowe continued frowning at his hand, trying to picture the place he’d described, but she was out of energy for questions and answers. So she handed off her phone. He plugged something into it and handed it back.
“Thanks,” she said. “Now, at the risk of being a total jerk, can you please leave?”
He flinched, but an amused smile flickered into place. “What did I do this time?”
“Nothing. Babs will be here any second. She’ll forgive me for ‘forgetting’ her spring roll. She won’t forgive me for hanging out here with you.”
