35. West
CHAPTER 35
WEST
Most of the day is spent on the laptop or the phone. It’s tedious but necessary. We don’t want to waste time chasing after rabbit trails. Not when I can narrow it down to where we need to look. The cargo container was not picked up by anyone, which means it could still be at the San Francisco dock.
Easy peasy. Only a few thousand cargo containers to sort through. To get away from prying ears, I went downstairs to make a phone call to Fletcher to keep him apprised of what we have going on.
“Crew said he needed to go see a guy who could help us find where that crate got shipped to,” Sydney tells me when I return to the hotel room.
“Of course they did.” I shake my head. “And you didn’t go with them?”
She shakes her head. “I think you’ll find it. You’re a bit mercenary in how you work your way through things. I watched you all day cross-checking those files and making phone calls. You’ve saved us so much time. Lucky and Crew were going to check Half Moon Bay again.”
“So you think I’m mercenary, do you?” I ask as I fold my arms across my chest.
Sydney throws her hands in the air, making her soft curls dance around her shoulders. “Only you would think that was a compliment!”
I take a small step toward her. “What else do you think about me?”
Sydney plants her hands on her hips and studies me with a shrewd look in her eye. “Hmm. Let me think.”
“Am I the most brilliant man you’ve ever met?” I tease.
“No. But you do have a tendency to talk all the time.” She takes several steps toward me and cranes her neck back to look at me. “And you won’t stop making friends with strangers. And then there’s the way that you just smile at everybody. You act like those are free! I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s not like I could tell her what I really want her to do with me. Because right now? All I want to do is bend down and kiss those sassy lips.
It takes all of my restraint to reach past her and grab her sweatshirt hanging on the coat hook on the wall. I hold it between us as though that will break Sydney’s electric pull on me.
Sydney clutches the sweatshirt, her hands brushing against mine. Her eyes are bright and her breathing is fast. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starved.”
Me too . But instead, I say, “There’s a restaurant and bar on the first floor that looked good.”
She catches the sweatshirt and slips it on. “Lead the way, Captain! I’m starved.”
We stand on opposite sides of the elevator, careful not to touch each other again. Given the way she’s studiously avoiding my face, I’m beginning to think I’m not the only one who feels this strong attraction.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask as we walk into the restaurant and bar. It’s bustling, and there’s even some live music with people dancing. I can see all the exits clearly, which makes me more comfortable.
Sydney shakes her head. “I’m an epic lightweight. I’d rather have my mind firing on all cylinders.”
My phone rings, and I glance down to see that it’s Fletcher calling—from his regular cell. “I’ve got to take this. Go ahead and order without me. I’ll be right back.”
I exit the restaurant so I can talk in the hallway. “What’s up, Fletch?”
“How would you like your old job back?” He sounds gleeful.
“I wouldn’t. What’s happening?”
“We got him. The new hire that took over trying to fill your oversized tech shoes was getting paid by the Ricci family to keep tabs on the police department. And it gets even crazier. The reason was because of Bodie’s connection with us. And then the murder and you calling us…pretty big coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Not so big. Bodie is always getting tangled up in some mess. And I’m fairly certain Lucky and Crew are cut from the same cloth and know of the Ricci family. I’m the only one who isn’t connected in some way. My only connection is that Bodie recommended me for a job. So is it safe for Sydney to come out in the open yet? Please tell me you’re tracking them down.”
“A little hard to do when all they want is to tie up their loose ends…” Fletcher mutters. “It would help if we could get them to try something in front of a bunch of witnesses.”
“If you even think of suggesting that we try a bait and switch with Sydney, I’ll be getting locked up—for your murder.”
Fletcher chuckles. “You’re getting it bad—and in such a short time. Boy this is fun.”
“Why don’t you just give me all the info you can? Maybe we can figure out a way out of this mess.”
“Fine, let’s talk business then,” he agrees and proceeds to talk about all the ways we could possibly end this impossible situation.
By the time I finish the conversation and return inside, it’s been almost forty minutes.
Sydney is standing at the edge of the dance floor, swaying to the music.
She’s looking a little loose. Too loose. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask when I stop next to her.
And then she laughs—like I’ve asked her the funniest thing in the world. Yup. Something is definitely not right.
“Are you drunk?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ve been drinking virgin pina coladas ever since you left. I said I wouldn’t drink, didn’t I?” She looks confused, as though she can’t actually remember what she said.
“You told me you weren’t going to drink tonight. Then why are you so…”
Her gaze swings toward me, and I now know what a gazelle feels like before a lion pounces. “So what? Like a girl can’t drink a little coconut juice and dance to some music? Although, I did have some pineapple, too.”
I glance back at the bar. Her drink is next to a few other pina coladas.
“Maybe you accidentally drank the wrong one.”
Her eyes flare at me, and she jabs a finger at me. “I don’t do accidents. I’m always careful where I set my glass.”
“Of course.” I hold my hands up in surrender.
“You were going to say something,” she growls at me and pokes a finger into the middle of my chest. “Spit. It. Out.”
I open my mouth to ask her if she wants to go back to her hotel room. We can order dinner and have it delivered up there. She doesn’t seem to be in any condition to sit down and eat here.
“Should we go dancing?” Her innocent question derails my lecture on drinking when you need all your senses about you. It’d be a bit hypocritical, given all I wanted was a strong drink after our charged encounter earlier. Well—maybe not all I wanted… “Dance? With you?”
She spins around and walks toward the dance floor, dragging me behind her—or using my arm as a support system. She doesn’t seem all too steady on those feet of hers.
This is not going to end well. I can tell. “Sydney, now might be a good time to go back to your room.”
“Don’t want to. I want to dance.”
“Lots of people here want to dance.”
“But I want to dance with you.”
And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think I could handle watching someone else put their hands on her.
“I usually only drink one, and then I fall asleep. That’s why I don’t like to drink.” She starts to laugh. “But tonight, I had three virgin pina coladas. I feel great! I think it’s the sugar rush.”
Well, that explains it. She probably accidentally ended up with three alcoholic drinks. She’s a lightweight. And it makes me laugh, because of course she’s a lightweight. One glass of alcohol for her would be the equivalent of a bottle to me for our body mass.
“Do you want to kiss me?” she asks, resting her hands against my chest.
Her question catches me by surprise, and I miss a step in our dance.
She looks at me with those big green eyes, making me think she’s as obsessed with me as I’m becoming with her. Her appetite for life, her ability to be unfazed…it’s infectious, and I don’t want the cure.
She tips her chin up toward me, her lips parting in an invitation. Her eyes flutter closed. It’s enticing. She’s clinging to me, pressing against the front of my body.
All I want to do is take her up on the invitation. To kiss those pouty lips and find out what she feels like.
But I can’t.
She’s drunk.
“Sydney. I’m not going to kiss you,” I tell her, even though the other part of my brain is yelling, ‘Viva la revolution!’ at this decree. Not kiss her? With that open invitation right there? I might just die.
But at least I can die being able to live with myself.
Her eyes pop open. “Why aren’t you going to kiss me, West?”
“Er, um…” I clear my throat.
She jerks on the collar of my shirt a little.
“You don’t think I’m attractive!”
The bloody hell I don’t think she’s attractive.
“When I kiss you, Sydney, you’re going to remember every second of it.”
She stops dancing and stares at me. “Is it because I have bad breath?” She places a hand over her mouth and breathes into it. “It is! Oh, that’s awful.” She turns around, exits the dance floor, and heads straight for the bar. There’s a little bowl of mints next to the cashier’s spot.
The bartender greets her with a smile. “Can I buy you another drink?” Another drink ? So he already bought her one? That explains some things.
He looks over her head, and his eyes widen when he sees me. I shake my head.
Sydney is oblivious to the exchange as she reaches into the mint bowl. “I just need a few of these.”
She grabs two, then decides to grab a handful. She glances over her shoulder at me. “Actually, maybe I need the whole bowl.”
She grabs the dish and tucks it under her arm. She turns back to me and smiles. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t think you need that many,” I say as I attempt to pry the dish out of her hold. She’s got an iron grip as she clings to the dish.
“I need these. How else are you going to kiss me?”
I give up trying to take the breath mints away. “How about I kiss you in the hotel room?”
Sydney grins. “Okay. Lead the way.”
I wrap an arm around her unsteady shoulders and do just that. We make it to the bank of elevators. But by the time we make it to our floor, she’s almost too tired to walk, so I scoop her up in my arms and carry her down the hallway to our room. She’s still cradling that bowl of breath mints when I lay her on the bed. It takes a few minutes of prying her fingers off to be able to set it on the nightstand. I slip her shoes off and then carefully tuck her into bed.
She’ll never know how much she tested my self-control tonight. An open invitation to kiss Sydney? I better get sainthood for passing that up.