Page 58 of A Little Too Late
I take a look at Ava, who’s watching me with a wary expression. “What are you playing at?” She’s wearing a red suit, a snowy blouse, and demure pearl earrings. She looks like a sexy office angel.
A pissed-off angel. If that’s a thing.
The elevator dings, and all the Sharpes exit it.Crap. I’m running out of time. “Where are the bellhops?” I whisper. “Are you sure this place is adequately staffed?”
Ava gives me a glare that could start a forest fire. She steps up to the doors, and they part for her automatically. “Hardy! Who’s bringing around Reed’s SUV?”
“It’s coming, ma’am,” he says, strolling into view, holding a snow shovel. The kid is out there scraping the first dusting ofsnow off the sidewalk already, proving that the place reallyiswell run.
The SUV rolls up a half second later, just as the Sharpes reach the door.
“Perfect!” I say, clapping my hands together. “Right this way, guys. The keys are in it.” All I need is a reason to open one of the doors and drop the tracker. “Hey—you’ll need a shovel, just in case you have to dig out the car. Can’t be too careful.”
I step up to the bellhop and remove the shovel from his hands. He blinks at me, surprised, but he doesn’t argue. I open the SUV’s hatch, place the shovel inside, and then I discreetly sneak the tracker under the shovel.
“Have a great evening! Take care in the snow.”
I slam the hatch and step away from the car. Then I give the Sharpes a wave and head back inside the hotel.
Naturally, Ava is right on my heels. “What the hell did you just do?” she whisper shouts as I head for the elevator. “You’restalkingthem now?”
“That’s too strong a word,” I insist. “It’s my version of due diligence.”
“You don’t think they’re going to dinner in Denver?” she asks. “Why would they lie about that?”
“No idea. Do you have the tracking app on your phone?”
She scowls. “Who wants to know?”
The elevator door slides open, and I sweep a hand forward, ushering her into the car.
She glares at me for a beat before stepping inside. “When did you become paranoid and cynical, Reed? The guy I knew in college wasn’t either of those things.”
“They teach it at business school. Let’s check out this Colorado Suite you put me in. How’s the room service menu these days?”
She blinks. “What? Why?”
“Because I feel like some refreshments while I wait to see what our suitors are up to. Got any favorite dishes?”
“The artichoke dip.”
“Ooh, good pick. Wine? Bottle of moonshine?”
She shudders, and I laugh.
The elevator doors part, and Ava points out the door to my new hotel room. But she doesn’t look entirely happy about it.
I scan the key card, and when I open the door, I see Sheila sitting on the sofa, her feet up on the footstool, the fire crackling before her. “Something wrong with your room?” I ask.
“Yep,” she says. “It’s not as comfortable as yours. And I moved all your stuff in here from Harper’s room. Be grateful.”
“Oh. Well. Make yourself at home. Favorite selection from the room service menu?”
“The artichoke dip,” she says.
“Okay, what’s your second favorite?”
“The taquitos. And don’t kick me out until you hear what I dug up today. I’ve been a busy girl while I run up your tab.”
