Chapter 3
“It makes sense.”
Marielle nodded, unconvinced.
He was right. It did make sense. She spoke fluent French. She knew the country. And Hanna did trust her. But still—
Omar tipped her chin up with two fingers and studied her face. “I know it sucks that you and Liv have to stay. But Poppy’s right—we can help each other.”
Marielle knew all of this. And she knew being apart from Omar for a few days or a week or however long would be torture, but they’d make up for lost time when all … this … was over.
“That’s not it,” she said.
“What is it then?”
“I’m the best at the analyzing data and finding patterns. I could find Cal faster than anybody else.”
He burst out laughing. “Wow. Okay, Elle.”
“What?”
“Here I was thinking you were so sad because you couldn’t bear to be apart from me. Way to wallop a guy right in the ego.”
She was about to protest when he shook his head. His eyes were bright with amusement.
“It’s fine. I get it. We’re professionals. We’re on a job. And you’re right. Nobody can do what you can do. But you know who’s a close second?”
“Ryan.”
“Yeah, Ryan. He’ll use all his lawyer tricks to get to McCloud. You figure out a way to give Poppy what she needs without spooking Hanna.”
She exhaled. He was right. “Speaking of Poppy—”
They both turned to look at the effervescent pop star / stone-cold operative. She appeared to be autographing Jake’s day planner.
“I still can’t believe any of it. Not Poppy Jones, Secret Agent and definitely not Jake West, Poppy’s biggest fan. Does Chelsea know about this Poppy Jones obsession?”
From the corner where Olivia and Trent were also saying their private goodbyes, Olivia’s head popped up. “Are you kidding me? My cousin is Poppy’s biggest fan. She’s probably even more of a Pop Tart than Jake is.”
“Did you just say ‘Pop Tart?’”
“That’s what her fans call themselves.”
“Of course they do. Well, if our cover is ‘girls’ weekend,’ Chelsea should join us.”
Olivia grinned. “And if Chelsea’s coming, we might as well have Leilah join the party.”
Omar groaned.
“What?” Marielle demanded.
“I know how you are when you’re all together. You bring my sister into the mix, and Jake better have his accountant review your expense reports with a stiff beverage in hand.”
Her retort was cut off by a beaming Jake and Poppy joining them.
Jake shifted from groupie to all business as he handed everyone fresh mobile phones. “Everyone’s numbers are programmed. Only use them if you need them.”
After everyone had powered on their phones, he jerked his head toward the plane and said to Omar and Trent, “We should hit it.”
“Give me a minute.” Trent leaned in and gave Olivia one final, long, lingering kiss.
Apparently inspired, Omar swept Marielle into his arms and dipped her backwards to drop a line of kisses up her neck to her mouth.
“Keep it PG, you two,” Jake said, but his grumbling was good-natured.
“While you’re in a good mood,” Marielle said, as Omar returned her to her feet, “I hear Chelsea is as big of a fan of Poppy’s as you are.”
“You heard correctly.”
“Why don’t we have Chelsea and Leilah join us. If our cover is a girls’ weekend in Paris for the Poppy Jones concert, it would be strange if we didn’t include the girl who’s a huge Pop Tart.”
Jake started to frown, but stopped mid-furrow. “Actually, that’s a great idea.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” she deadpanned.
“Hey, even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”
“I love it!” Poppy clapped her hands. “A real girls’ weekend!”
Olivia shot Poppy a look.
She shrugged unapologetically. “You have no idea how isolating touring can be. I’m surrounded by people, but the backup singers, dancers, and crew don’t want to hang out with the boss.
And I can’t go anywhere without attracting a crowd.
I travel all over the world, ordering room service and reading in bed. ”
“It’s just as glamorous as I always imagined,” Marielle cracked.
“I know, poor little rich girl. But it’s true. I get lonely.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Marielle explained, chastened.
“Anyway, consider yourself an adopted girl gang member for the weekend,” Olivia told her.
Poppy grinned and then her smile faded. “Wait, are they civilians?”
“They are,” Jake said, “but they’re not the usual kind of civilian.”
Poppy quirked her brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Marielle said, “Leilah is Omar’s sister and she’s a race car driver.”
“The Leilah Khan?”
Omar rolled his eyes. “Yes, the Leilah Khan. She’s my annoying little sister, and she’s engaged to Potomac’s general counsel.”
“I love her. I saw her race in Monaco last year.”
“My cousin Chelsea is engaged to Jake,” Olivia said. “And in addition to being a huge fan of your music, she’s an outdoor adventure guide. She has all these survival skills.”
“Let’s hope we won’t need to rely on her survival skills at the Plaza Athénée,” Marielle interjected.
“Fair point,” Olivia allowed.
Poppy flipped her red curls over her shoulder. “Time to say au revoir to everyone who pees standing up.”
“One more kiss,” Omar insisted.
Marielle rose up on her very tiptoes and cupped his face in her hands. He cradled the back of her head with one splayed palm. She soaked in his clean, spicy scent, the coffee and champagne-tinged taste of his lips, and the warm strength of his solid body.
“I’ll see you soon,” he rumbled into her hair.
“You’d better. I was promised a date.”
He released her and followed Jake and Trent out onto the tarmac to the plane.
Marielle stood with Olivia and Poppy at the observation window and watched them board the small Gulfstream.
“There they go,” Poppy said as the plane taxied.
“They’re going,” Olivia agreed as it climbed through the air to reach its cruising altitude.
“And they’re gone,” Marielle said after the plane grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared from sight.
She turned away from the window. “Let’s go see this suite.”