1242 P.M. — Wednesday, September 12
PETRA
“How long ago did the call come in?” Luka’s voice was as calm and velvety as always (very much the smooth podcaster). But a moment earlier, when he flipped on the lamp next to the bed, she saw anger flash in his eyes and it occurred to her for the first time that she really didn’t know him at all.
They had just finished making love. Petra waited until he was about to get up and go shower before telling him the big news for fear of him rushing off without her getting anything out of it (the sex really was very good).
But now she was worried that waiting had been a mistake.
Of course it was a mistake. He needed to know this information as soon as possible.
He can’t eat if he doesn’t kill anything.
Her pulse sped up a little as she thought about what answer to give him.
He seemed kind and gentle and methodical, but what if, deep underneath all that sweetness, he was a simmering pot of rage?
She’d heard about men like this through her job.
He just snapped. It came out of nowhere. It’s always the quiet ones.
She’d told no one she was meeting him here.
Not one soul. And no one would know where to start looking for her if she didn’t come back to work that afternoon.
The Director would assume she’d decided to go home.
Her parents would think she had to work late.
Tomorrow morning, they’d start to wonder, and it would take at least forty-eight hours before they’d consider her missing.
She just walked out of her office building and disappeared into thin air. Without a trace.
Perhaps Luka would do a podcast about her.
But that was silly because there were cameras up everywhere.
Someone would have seen her come into the hotel.
Some bored security guy eating directly out of a bag of potato chips.
Besides, just as quickly as that anger flashed, it was gone, and in its place was a decidedly excited-looking man.
He looked younger with his face lit up like this.
Too young for Petra, indeed. She attempted to smooth out her skin using her facial muscles, but without a mirror it was impossible to tell if it was working or if she looked like she was imitating a lizard.
“Petra? What time did the call come in?”
“Just before I left to meet you.” Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true. The call had come in around eleven. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
He sat up in bed and rubbed his smooth chin. “And it was the chief of police in Mali Lo?inj.”
“Yes,” she answered, holding the sheet to cover herself while she sat up too.
She wasn’t about to sit upright with her boobs on display.
Her spine was curved at the moment which caused her breasts to flop against her soft, round tummy.
Not their best look. Standing up straight with her shoulders back was much better.
“That station has a large jurisdiction. They cover all of Lo?inj-Lussino as well as several small islands near it.”
“Did he say where the yacht was?”
“I’m sure he told the director, but all he said to me was that there were some very famous, important people aboard the yacht and that there was a dead body,” Petra answered. “No, wait, that one of them was dead. I think.”
Luka stood up and swiftly crossed the room, allowing Petra a rare glimpse of his fully nude form. “Which was it? One of them was dead or there was a dead body?”
She scrunched up her face, trying her best to remember. “That one of them was dead. Yes, that’s it. He must have meant that one of the famous people was dead.”
He stuck his feet through the leg holes of his boxers and yanked them up, then got straight to work on one of his black dress socks.
Huh, actually not too sexy, seeing him standing there with two black socks pulled up to his calves.
It would’ve been so much more alluring if Luka had put on his trousers first. Then his shirt, then socks last, right before his shoes.
“And you’re sure he said very famous? Not just famous? ”
“He definitely said very famous,” Petra answered, feeling quite proud of herself for remembering.
It was like she was a child and he was her teacher, quizzing her on yesterday’s history lesson.
And she was getting them all right. One gold star for Petra.
“And based on the fact that a police chief called the director’s office directly, I’d say this is about to become a very big story. ”
Luka already had his pants on and was in the process of buttoning up his white dress shirt. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered.
Thank God? How about thank you, Petra? “You aren’t going to shower?” she asked, realizing he had skipped it for once.
“Not today. I need to get on this. See if I can find out who was on that yacht,” he answered, rushing over and giving her a kiss on the lips. “Thank you. This might be the break I’ve been needing.”
She blushed a little, feeling somehow exposed that he was kissing her while he was dressed and she was still naked.
Especially since the light was on. He wasn’t his usual controlled, careful self.
He was energetic, buoyant, and brimming with possibilities as he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her.
“Listen, I know we haven’t talked about…
us. It’s complicated because of your job and my work.
” His face twisted up with anguish. “And to be honest, things haven’t been going so well for me.
I had the one big hit season, but since then the market for true crime has gotten overcrowded—”
“You’ve mentioned that,” she said, hoping she didn’t seem rude to be cutting him off.
But to be fair, she’d heard the whole ‘explosion of hacks popping up from every corner of the country who don’t even do proper research’ thing a dozen times already, and she was desperate to hear what he had to say about ‘us.’
“Yes, of course I have,” he said, his face flattening into a smile again. “Anyway, the point is, do you like your job, Petra? Really like it? Do you see yourself there for your entire career?”
Her mind raced to find the right answer.
Did he want her to stay there to feed information to him, or should she quit so they could be together?
“I’ve never thought about it. I need the job, of course.
I don’t know where else I would work, and it’s not like I have a great passion for some other career or something.
But I have to work or I’ll be stuck with my parents forever. ”
Her answer seemed to please him. He nodded and placed his hand on her left arm.
His skin was warm against hers and it made her wonder if maybe she had fallen in love with him.
Smiling down at her, he said, “But let’s say we work together on this.
Get out ahead of it, and if I can get access to information no one else will have, I can get back on top again.
Bigger than before. If this person who died is very famous, I could be the biggest there is. ”
“I would love that for you,” she said, not daring to hope for what she was already hoping for—an airy-yet-cozy country house together where they would raise their family, him working in a studio they’d build in the yard and her chasing after their three kids (well, maybe only one based on the age of her eggs).
But they’d have pets. Lots of pets. A couple of dogs, a cat, maybe even some chickens and a donkey to protect them.
Oh, and they’d have an in-ground swimming pool and an outdoor kitchen.
No, she wasn’t getting her hopes up at all.
“The thing is, you’d be risking your job,” he said, as if she couldn’t work that out for herself.
It was a little condescending. Her father was condescending like this with her mother, and in exchange her mother was passive-aggressive. Petra would need to let him know how much she hated that after they were married. Otherwise, she, too, would be in danger of becoming passive-aggressive.
Luka grinned. “But if I made it big, you wouldn’t have to work anymore.”
Joy. Pure joy radiated through Petra as she forgot all about the sheet and wrapped both arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the mouth. He kissed her back, and this time, it wasn’t a careful, slow kiss, it was a rip-open-his-shirt kiss. The kind she’d been craving all along.
When he pulled back, she let herself flop back against the pillow, almost tasting the freedom she’d have to finally be out of her parents’ house, to be able to spend each day exactly how she wanted to.
The glory of being able to look down on her sister for once.
Come by for dinner on Sunday. Bring your swimsuits. “What do you need me to do?”