CHAPTER FOUR
Angela had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But there was a better question that Sawyer wouldn’t have known to ask: was Angela actually dating Paul?
The answer was convoluted. Technically, yes. They were dating. But in name only. They hadn’t been intimate in years, nor had they regularly been on the same continent. She supposed they were occasionally confidants, but they hadn’t been yesterday when she wanted to process the shooting.
“I haven’t mentioned Paul to you very much.” Angela bit her lip. “There hasn’t been much to say.” There had been plenty of opportunities to mention her relationship problems and get Sawyer’s advice. It wasn’t that she shied away from the conversation—more like she never thought about Paul.
“That wasn’t what I asked you.” His intense iceberg-blue eyes locked onto her, patient but persistent, refusing to yield the conversation in another direction. He’d wait her out all day, but Angela didn’t have the strength to admit every problem in her relationship. If she did, Sawyer might not look at her the same way again, which would cut deeper than any slight from Paul.
“Do you want to be with him?” Sawyer pressed though he shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve almost said as much that it seems like an easy answer.”
“Relationships are never easy.” She offered a fake smile that Sawyer didn’t seem to notice. “Nothing is as simple as yes or no. It’s not black and white.”
“You two have been together long enough to know if you want to do it for the long haul.” He studied her in a way that seemed to read her mind and search her heart. “The Angela who I know isn’t indecisive.”
“I—” Her throat ached. I… never thought about Paul. Don’t want to rock the boat. Avoid upsetting my mother . Breaking up with Paul would do those things. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do.”
Sawyer wasn’t wrong. She and Paul had grown apart. They didn’t have a spark. She’d grown up. Her interests had changed. Angela was never lonely. Titan kept her busy. The last few years of keeping her head down and processing the years she’d been Pham’s hostage had siphoned any thoughts of romance or longing. She was content with her personal relationships. Paul wasn’t a part of her life and didn’t try to be included.
The front desk bell chimed three times, a code for an incoming VIP arrival. The crystal-clear call resonated through the lobby and beckoned bellhops, breaking the question-induced freeze that had stolen her words.
Two bellhops rushed across the lobby. The call bell rang again, three times. Angela straightened. A second call was never needed. Staff appeared out of nowhere. Security stood taller. The atmosphere shifted. Her skin prickled. “I wasn’t aware of any VIP arrivals today.” Angela glanced at Sawyer, sure he could sense it too. “You?”
“Nope.” His gaze tracked from the bellhops to the reception desk to the gold-accented bulletproof glass doors. “Hang tight a second. I’ll find out what’s happening.”
Sawyer motioned for her to stay. She ignored the request, stood, and followed. They walked along the window wall that overlooked the entryway.
A black Suburban sped into the hotel’s main drive. Sawyer waved Angela back, but she moved to his side. The vehicle stopped as if the driver owned the place—her stomach catapulted—because he did own the place.
“Boss Man’s here,” Sawyer said.
Her heart tangled with the knot in her throat. “Where the hell has he been?”
Valets and bellhops rushed to the vehicle in a way that was less like the expected speedy service and more hustle-and-go. Neither he nor Angela had a visual confirmation yet, but Sawyer was correct. Jared Westin’s own-the-world attitude made her feel safe. Usually. At that moment, her gut screamed there was a problem. That wasn’t how Jared made an entrance, especially after he’d been MIA for hours. “Something’s wrong, Sawyer.”
Sawyer’s stance changed. He stood taller, broader, tensing on high alert. “Not necessarily.”
“You don’t sound very convincing.”
He didn’t try to change her mind.
They waited. Jared didn’t materialize. Anxiety crackled down her spine. “Do you see him?” Angela stepped to the side. “The landscaping is blocking my view.”
Sawyer held out his hand again to caution her. “Hang tight, Ange.”
She stepped closer to his side, partly shielded from whatever loomed inside the blacked-out SUV. Angela couldn’t discern movement beyond the valets unloading bags. “Jared wouldn’t have luggage.”
The bellhops and valets blocked the view as the passengers exited. Their group moved toward the lobby doors.
She wasn’t at the correct angle to see anyone. “Scoot over.”
Sawyer ignored her elbow and didn’t budge. Angela leaned against him.
The group bypassed the reception desk. It had to be Jared. He had to have been meeting about the assassination attempt. Perhaps he’d been involved in the interrogation. But that didn’t explain his flashy entrance or the dread cementing her in place.
The bellhops split away from the group and unblocked Angela’s line of sight. Boss Man powered toward the elevators. His purposeful stride covered the floor like an alpha wolf leading a bloodthirsty pack.
Then she saw them. “Oh God.” Her stomach bottomed out. “No. This can’t be happening.”
Two men Angela had known most of her life tried to keep pace with Jared’s angry march. “They want to turn yesterday into a political talking point.”
Sawyer glanced down. “What?”
She slunk back and considered hiding behind an oversized plant, but before she could, life sucker punched her again. Angela swayed. Sawyer’s steadying hand rested against her back, and then he followed her gaze to her mother and Paul, who trailed several paces behind the other men.
The entourage would see her at any moment. There was nowhere to hide.
Jared saw them but didn’t slow the procession. “My office. Now.”
Still struggling to keep pace, the two men inclined their heads in greeting as they passed.
“This is very bad,” she whispered, unable to look away from her mother’s approach. “Very, very bad.”
Her mother, the Senator, always looked the same. It was part of her persona, along with her crisp power suit, coordinating accessories, and coiffed hair dyed the same color it had been the first year she was elected to office. Mother had always said she needed to match the image voters had in their minds, that in the court of public opinion, women weren’t allowed to age as gracefully as their male counterparts, that life wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t in the position to act on any of her feminist principles because she was busy enacting laws for the greater good.
Her mother breezed by, offering, “Angela,” by way of greeting.
Paul smiled but remained silent. He didn’t break from the group or greet Angela or explain why on Earth he was in Abu Dhabi. He had to know that one of Pham’s lackeys had tried to kill her, and yet, Paul didn’t step from the group to ask how she was. Paul didn’t care—and she didn’t care if he did or not. Her shock had morphed into grade-A, top-shelf anger.
Sawyer checked the lobby for anyone else struggling to keep up with Jared’s posse. “What in the hell is happening?”
The small distance between her and Sawyer was too much. She was alone in a way that she couldn’t explain, drowning and suffocating in the middle of Titan’s hotel lobby. Angela needed to sidle against Sawyer. She needed his protective hand on her back and calm promises that everything would be okay. But all she could do was watch the entourage board an elevator.
The elevator doors finally closed. Angela released her breath.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I don’t even know what they want, but I can’t.”
“All right. Take a minute.” Sawyer guided her to the alcove again. “They’re not monsters. They’re family.”
“There’s some overlap in my family’s Venn diagram.” Her pulse raced as fast as her thoughts. “Whatever they want, it’s something they decided to blindside me with.”
He pulled her onto the couch. “Jared’s not going to blindside you—”
She grabbed onto his arm. “Jared has been MIA all day and has probably been trying to head off whatever is about to happen.”
Sawyer covered her hand, which had a death grip on his forearm. “You don’t have to worry—there’ll be an explanation.”
“An explanation won’t make this situation okay.”
He pursed his lips and glanced toward the elevators as though he might be able to make sense of the last two minutes. Finally, he shook his head and said, “I don’t know what’s happening, but Boss Man doesn’t look happy. He’ll deal with it—”
“Whatever it is, they’re here for work. Not for me.” She dropped her head against his bicep and groaned. “Nothing good is about to happen.”
He draped his arm over her shoulders and squeezed. “There’s no point in getting upset before we have the slightest clue about what’s happening.”
Her eyes pinched shut. “I know enough.”
Sawyer patted her back. “Well, I know that Jared’s mad enough to piss lava.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. For the first time in what seemed like hours, Angela grinned. “He did kind of look that way, huh?”
“Yup, and they didn’t look smart enough to know they were in trouble. Who were the guys behind Jared?”
“My mom’s campaign manager and her political consultant.”
“Ah…” Sawyer said, sounding as though he had a more nuanced understanding. Then his forehead tightened. “How long does it take to get out here?” He knew what she knew. The departure location and aircraft were the main variables. For a moment, Angela ran calculations in her head and saw Sawyer do the same.
“Huh.” His eyebrows arched. “That’s some amazingly shitty timing for a surprise visit, or they gathered their posse and jumped on a private jet pretty quickly.”
Her phone pinged. Angela pulled it out and held it so Sawyer could see the sender’s notification. “Another text from Paul.”
“At least he’s texting you again,” Sawyer muttered.
She snorted and then opened the message.
What’s your ETA?
Sawyer inhaled deeply then let out the breath as if trying to remain calm. After a moment, he laughed.
She tipped her head back to see his face. “What?”
“He’s a little off-brand right now, isn’t he?”
Her eyebrow arched.
“Shouldn’t it read something like, ‘What’s your ETA, babe?’”
A smile crept onto her face.
“Babe,” Sawyer teased.
“I don’t even know when he started calling me that.” Angela elbowed him. “It’s not like he thinks I’m a babe.”
Sawyer gestured to the phone. “Obviously, he does.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe he means it like Babe Ruth? Did they call him in during the clutch or something?”
He laughed. “What, like you’re a pinch-hitting girlfriend?”
Angela’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, I am.” She tipped her head back. “That makes so much sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re nuts. That’s what you are, babe .”
Laughter was the best medicine. Everything was wrong with her world, but at least Sawyer could make her smile. Angela stood and pulled his arm. “Come on. If I’m going into the lion’s den, so are you.”