28. “She”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“SHE”
(HAYLEY KIYOKO)
O bviously, because I knew a ton of people would be worried after our abduction, on the Uber ride back, I texted Javi first, then our group text, to let them know we were good and returning to The Surf Club, and more importantly, to ascertain no one got shot.
Jessie assured me no one did.
I should have suspected what would happen when we arrived, but it still surprised me.
This being all the Angels, the entire Hottie Squad, the Rock Chicks, Tex and Tito in a massive huddle next to Lucia’s herb garden in the back parking lot.
The NI&S’s black Denalis were everywhere, each one of them pointed in a way it’d be easy to roll out.
Oh, and when Javi turned in our direction, I noted immediately he looked homicidal, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t share that Gabe wore the exact same expression.
I couldn’t jump out of the Uber because Javi’s big body was in my way. He was standing in the open door before I could even put my hand on the handle.
In fact, I didn’t jump out of the Uber at all.
I’d undone my seatbelt, so Javi just lifted me out even as the Uber guy shouted an alarmed, “Hey! What are you doing?”
I was deposited in the back of a Denali.
Willow, carried by a granite-faced Gabe, also like she’d lost the ability to ambulate, was set beside me.
Um.
What was going on?
Javi angled into the driver’s seat, Gabe in the passenger seat, it appeared like Mace was calming the Uber driver down (he was out of his car making a fuss), and Javi took off with us.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I belted up.
“Offices,” Javi grunted.
“Why—?” I started.
“Baby, please, I beg you, don’t talk right now,” Javi said in a low rumble.
I went silent because, okay, I’d give him that.
If he was kidnapped, and someone in the mess we were in got his throat slit (or punctured, whatever), and I didn’t know where he was for a couple of hours, I would also be struggling with controlling my emotions, even when he came back safe.
Willow and I exchanged a glance and stayed quiet all the way to the Nightingale Investigations and Security offices downtown.
We also stayed quiet after the guys let us out of the car in their underground parking and led us up to the offices.
The minute Javi escorted us through the door, we didn’t even get a chance to look around. We were set upon by two women.
One was Shirleen.
The other was a slight, petite, older woman with a helmet head of dyed russet-red hair and cat’s-eye eyeglasses on her nose that looked like they came from the actual fifties (as such, not to be the fashion police while still being the fashion police, they were not at all retro cool).
She was wearing unflattering women’s business clothes, including a navy A-lined skirt that hit her just below her knee, a matching boxy blazer, an uninspired shell in the equally uninspired shade of cream and a string of pearls.
Alternatively, Shirleen was in an ivory sleeveless dress that had a wraparound skirt with interesting detailing at the side of her waist and a semi-flirty-but-still-appropriate-for-the-office slit.
She’d paired this with a beautiful gold cuff at her wrist, and on her feet, four-inch patent leather pumps in a color reminiscent of the finest milk chocolate that had a kick-A, burnished gold snake on the toe.
In other words, two more polar opposites there never were.
“I got them,” the woman said.
Shirleen shouldered her out of the way. “No, I got ’em.”
The older woman planted her hands on her hips and stated snootily, “Witness relations in this branch are under my job description.”
Shirleen pointed at me. “Is she organizing your closet this weekend?”
“No,” the woman hmphed.
“So these are my girls,” Shirleen returned. “That means I got them.” She started herding us. “Come with me, ladies.”
With the forebodingly silent Javi and Gabe exuding very bad vibes following us, we were taken into what had to be the inner sanctuary.
This was behind a keypad locked door that was nearly invisible in the posh wood paneling.
Once in the back hallway that had more posh wood paneling and a ton of doorways off it, many with their own keypads, we were escorted to a swish conference room.
This room had lots of gleaming wood (walls and furniture), attractive wall art done up in Arizona desert style, and fancy, comfortable-looking swivel chairs sporting super attractive cognac leather.
“This is rad,” Willow whispered. “But I still like our Headquarters better.”
“Samesies,” I replied.
Shirleen set us both in chairs and asked, “You want coffee?”
“Or tea?” the other woman butted in, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce this woman was Marjorie.
I also knew from what Javi told me that the guys lived with this battle in some way or another every day in the office.
I sensed they gave it a wide berth because it was getting on their nerves.
But I thought it was kind of cute.
“Water?” Shirleen went on.
“Or Perrier?” Marjorie offered.
“Vodka?” Shirleen continued.
“It is against protocol to offer alcoholic beverages to witnesses,” Marjorie snapped.
Shirleen glared at her. “They aren’t witnesses. They’re victims.”
“We aren’t victims. We solved the case,” Willow said.
Everyone looked at us.
“Hold,” Javi grunted.
“Until the others get here,” Gabe rumbled.
Good plan. We didn’t want to have to repeat our story to everyone.
“Actually, I could use a Perrier,” I said.
“I’ll get it!” Marjorie almost shouted.
Shirleen didn’t horn in on that.
Marjorie bustled out of the room.
I looked to Javi. “I’m fine, honey.”
He appeared no less homicidal.
“Really,” I asserted.
And…
Nope.
He still looked like he wanted to murder somebody.
I fell silent.
Marjorie showed with our Perriers. The sparkling water was in a tall, thin, blemishless glass that had cool glass straws and a slice of lime in them.
Total class, NI&S was.
We were sipping when the others arrived.
The others being everybody.
NI&S had a big conference room, but with everyone there, we were packed in like sardines.
Mace, being the Big Kahuna, started it.
“First, are you both all right?” he asked.
Aw.
He was so sweet.
“We’re fine,” I said again, and then looked among the Angels. “And we kind of got kidnapped into solving the case.”
All the women’s faces brightened, even the Rock Chicks.
This news didn’t alter the expressions of the men in the slightest, though I didn’t think that was about us winning and solving the case. It was about Willow and me being kidnapped and they were clearly amassing to send a team out to come and get us.
Mace sat in a swivel chair, put a forearm to the table, leaned back, radiated total bad-A hotness and ordered, “Share.”
We’d signed NDAs.
Still, we shared.
Everything.
“To end,” Willow said after we tag-teamed the rundown, “I have to deliver the laptop to Congressman Mahoney’s office by the end of the day.”
“You will not be doing that,” Mace returned.
“Uh, we signed an NDA,” I pointed out. “If someone else does it, he might sue us for all we’re worth. I’m not worth much, but I’d like to keep what I have.”
“You. Are not. Delivering. That laptop. To the congressman,” Mace stated ominously.
I pressed my lips together.
“I will personally explain to Congressman Mahoney that he can be assured of our discretion,” Mace continued.
I had no doubt he’d communicate just that.
And probably more.
Like, say, sharing with Congressman Mahoney that if he or any of his henchmen got anywhere near an Angel again, they’d be dealing with the Hottie Squad.
I reckoned this message coming from Mace would be read loud and clear, even by a United States Congressman.
I was okay with them delivering the laptop. I’d had enough excitement for one day.
Mace looked over his shoulder at Raye. “Who has the laptop?”
“I do,” Luna replied.
“I’ll take her to get it,” Knox said immediately.
Awesome!
Luna shot him a filthy look.
It pinged off Knox entirely.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Luna looked like she’d argue, then she trudged out like she was being led to the plank she was going to be forced to walk.
Knox followed her, scowling at the back of her head (so maybe her filthy look did land, though, that scowl on his handsome face, um…someone give me a fan).
I totally got why they didn’t go there (boy, did I).
It still made me sad.
“Who’s looking after SC?” Willow asked.
“Tito called Joey and Gemma in,” Shanti answered. “Dream’s coming in later after the kids she’s watching get picked up and she drops the kids at Scott and Louise’s.”
Weird.
I never thought I’d think this, but it seemed having Dream on the team was going to be useful.
“But for now, Byron’s helping,” Raye added.
Hmm.
It also seemed like, when you spent every weekday at a killer coffee and cocktail emporium, you soaked in the lay of the land.
I hoped that meant they could finish out my shift. I always needed the tips. Now more than ever with this doubling up business between Javi and my pads. But being tased and kidnapped took it out of a girl.
Not to mention, I was wrong earlier. Now that the drama was over, the aches and pains of being flipped over some dude’s shoulder and landing hard were making themselves known. My body was kind of achy, so I needed a bubble bath ASAP.
“Their kidnappings are a lot less dramatic than ours were,” Roxie noted.
“I know,” Indy replied. “I’m kind of jealous.”
Annette took a seat at the conference table and declared, “I’m totally opening Head South.” She looked at me. “Can I be an Angel?”
I liked Annette. She was funny and sweet and all in for a good time.
However…
“We don’t pick the Angels, Arthur does,” Raye told her.
“Bummer,” Annette muttered. She turned to Roxie and pouted, “I never got kidnapped.”
Roxie patted her shoulder like she was consoling her.
I sipped Perrier and turned to Javi. “I don’t want to break up the party, but after all of that, I kinda need a bubble bath.”
I barely finished my last word before my Perrier was on the lustrous conference table (without a coaster!), my hand was in Javi’s, and he was dragging me to the door.
“Bye Angels!” I waved behind me. “And Rock Chicks! And Hottie Squad! And Tito and Tex!”
The last ones I had to shout from the hall.
I waited to speak all the way until Javi started to bend to pick me up to put me in the front seat of a Denali.
“Honey, stop,” I urged, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He straightened and scowled down at me.
I got up on tiptoe and cupped his face in my hands.
“I can climb into a car. I can climb out of it. Was what happened fun? No. Did it have a good ending? Yes.” I pressed against him. “I’m fine. Willow’s fine. The case is solved. It’s all good. You can stop being pissed and worried.”
“We have cameras outside SC,” he stated.
Oh boy.
“I saw the footage,” he continued.
Oh no.
“I saw him flip you. I saw you land hard. I saw him tase you. And I saw him shove you in the back of a car,” Javi carried on.
Yikes.
“Honey,”—I stroked his cheek—“I’m fine . Yes, I could use a bubble bath and some Tylenol. But I promise you, I’m good.”
“Life turns to shit,” he growled.
Oh, my poor guy.
“That was before.” I smiled brightly. “Now, even though there might be clouds to darken some days, you have to remember, you live in sunshine.”
He growled again, this time there were no words. He did this before his arms closed around me, and he kissed me.
It was a good one. Then again, they all were.
And when he was done, my man seemed in a much better mood.
“Let’s go home,” I requested.
Javi bent and nuzzled my earlobe with his nose (another new thing, and… nice !).
And his lips quirked as he picked me up and put me in the Denali.
Okay, so, if he wanted to cart me around, it made me feel delicate and pretty, I wasn’t going to argue.
Javi got in beside me.
And we went home.