Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ANTOINE
T he phone rings only once before a smooth, professional voice picks up. “Reception, how may I assist you?”
“Hello,” I say. “I’d like to book a salsa class for two, today. Is that possible?”
There’s a brief pause. “Absolutely, Monsieur Bellay! Give me twenty minutes to make the arrangements. I’ll ensure you and your beautiful wife have everything you need, including the proper attire and footwear.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. This concierge is a pro and deserves a generous tip… Then it hits me—this might be Lino, the man MESS suspects is Kurt’s agent keeping an eye on me.
“May I have both of your sizes?” the concierge asks.
“Of course,” I say. “What’s your name?”
“Lino.”
I give him the information, trying not to think too hard about how Kurt might use it. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he replies smoothly. “I’ll deliver everything personally to your suite in about fifteen minutes, in time for you to join the class that starts in half an hour.”
“Perfect.” I hang up.
True to his word, Lino knocks on the door fifteen minutes later. Laura is in the shower, which suits me very well.
I open the door. There’s no doubt that this mustached man is the same concierge whose picture Pedro showed me yesterday. Lino’s face is neutral, but his eyes sweep the entryway and whatever he can see of the salon the second I open the door.
“Your outfits and shoes, Monsieur.” He holds out two neatly packed bags. “The class starts in fifteen minutes. You need to go to the activity room on the second floor.”
I thank him and take the bags.
“In case any item doesn’t fit—” he begins.
“I’ll call you.” I thrust a tenner into his hand. “Thanks again. You’ve been exceptionally helpful.”
“Thank you , Monsieur!” His foot shifts forward, as if testing the boundary.
But I don’t budge, still squarely in his way. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything else we need.”
“Great. Enjoy your lesson!”
I shut the door before he can say anything else.
Quickly, I scan the stuff Lino brought for hidden devices or signs of tampering. Last night, I swept the suite for bugs, while Laura was soaking in the tub. I found a bug cleverly camouflaged in the door moldings between the bedroom and salon, to capture the conversations in both. Pedro’s white noise generator came in handy when I was asking Laura about the music box.
She comes out of the bathroom, all fresh and rosy cheeked. We change quickly. Her outfit is a flowy little dress that’s perfect for salsa. Mine consists of a tee and comfortable trousers. Everything fits, even the shoes.
Laura twirls once in the mirror. “That concierge is a godsend!”
“He was sent, all right. But not by God.”
I’m sure Kurt thinks of himself as God, though. Godless people with too much power and money often do.
Laura raises an eyebrow but, thankfully, doesn’t press. We head to the activity room, where Mario, the salsa instructor, greets us with enthusiastic hand claps.
“Welcome, my friends!” he exclaims. “You’re going to have so much fun today!”
“Just so you know, I’m a total beginner at salsa,” Laura warns him.
“Not to worry! Salsa isn’t about dancing—it’s about feeling!”
She shoots me an impish look. “You heard what the man said.”
“Yes, Sarge!” I bark, standing at attention.
She giggles. I grin. This woman has a knack for bringing out the frisky pup in me that I thought long gone…
We step into position. The first half of the lesson goes well. Laura picks up the basic steps quickly. She has a good sense of rhythm, which I already knew from our dance at the wedding party. Mario flits around the room like a hummingbird, correcting posture, adjusting hands, and shouting encouragement. I’m focused on improving my technique, when I hear the door open.
Lino steps in, carrying bottles of water. “I thought you might need refreshments.”
“Ah, perfect timing,” Mario says. “Thank you, my friend!”
Lino sets the bottles on a side table but doesn’t leave. He moves to the air conditioner controls, pretending to examine them.
My grip on Laura’s hand tightens.
She looks up at me. “You OK?”
“Yes,” I say.
Lino keeps fumbling with the controls, which earns him a puzzled look from Mario.
“Right foot forward!” Mario calls Laura and me back into position. “And turn!”
I guide Laura through the steps, hoping she doesn’t sense my irritation and misinterpret it. There’s no more doubt left in my mind that Lino is a mole. I need to relay that to Pedro.
Finally, Lino steps away from the AC. He casts one last glance our way and heads to the exit.
Bye, spy—and don’t come back!
Ten minutes later, Mario declares that Laura and I are ready to graduate to the advanced level. Laura panics. As we begin practicing a more complex routine, her earlier ease seeps away. Her movements become sharp and jerky. It’s like she’s trying to memorize the steps instead of feeling the rhythm. Her frustration is palpable, and it’s radiating off her in waves.
“You’re overthinking it,” I murmur.
“You’re doing great, Laura” Mario lies. “Just be sure to follow Antoine’s lead.”
“I am,” she snaps before shifting a frustrated gaze at me. “We lucked out with LeRoc, but this is going to be a disaster. Consider yourself forewarned.”
She halts, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s about to throw in the towel.
On impulse, my hand tightens on her waist. “Let’s try again.”
“Do the basic steps,” Mario says.
She exhales, muttering something I don’t quite catch. We revert to the basic step. This time, her movements are smoother, more in sync with mine, and she finally relaxes.
“Much better,” I praise her.
Her eyes flicker to meet mine.
“Excellent!” Mario cheers. “You two have a great chemistry. We’re going to keep the steps, holds and turns simple, so it can shine through.”
I nod to show my approval of this approach. Which baffles me. Settling on “simple” is against my nature. But, for some reason, my priority for this challenge isn’t to come out on top tomorrow night, but for Laura to have fun.
“You’ll be crowned king and queen of the party tomorrow!” Mario peps us up.
“FYI, I’m already a queen,” Laura says. “Just ask my shrink.”
Her gentle, self-deprecating humor cracks me up.
I realize I’ve come to expect it from her.
And to appreciate it.