Chapter 19
NINETEEN
CRICKET
There’s a loud chime from overhead that jostles me from my sleep. I open my eyes and, at first, don’t recognize my surroundings. My familiar turquoise sheets and dark purple comforter are gone. Instead, I’m lying in a California king with steel-colored sheets and a bright white duvet.
Just in case Gabriel gets a little investigative, I’m staying at The Crusader, D.C.’s most prolific 5-star hotel, instead of my condo just outside the city. The hotel is beautifully furnished with high-end finishings and every amenity I could possibly need. But the constant room service is incessant…borderline annoying. They check on guests before dinner, and after, just in case we need a bottle of water, warm linens, or maybe to bend over and have our asses licked. Seriously, this hotel is a little over-the-top with its hospitality.
It’s seven o’clock in the morning. I have nothing on my schedule today except texting Gabriel back in a couple of hours. May I sleep in for one damn day?
The doorbell sounds again, and I drag myself out of bed. From the bedroom, there’s no way housekeeping can hear me yell at them to go away.
On my way to the front door, I grab the hotel robe off the back of the couch and wrap it around my naked body. I normally wouldn’t sleep naked in a hotel room, but this place is so clean you could probably perform open heart surgery in the living room with no risk of infection.
I yank open the door to see a young delivery man holding a beautiful bouquet of pink, peach, and cream roses that is wider than his entire frame. I can’t see his face; I only hear him talking. “Delivery for Fiona O’Leary.”
“It’s a little early,” I say.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, out of breath. “Um, do you mind if I set this down?”
I push the door open wide and scoot to the side so he can squeeze through. “Anywhere?” he asks.
“Anywhere.”
He sets them down on the coffee table and shuffles right past me so he’s standing outside of the room once more. “Sorry, the vase was heavy. Have a good day, ma’am.” He clears his throat and heads down the hallway.
I glance back at the bouquet on the table. All I see are flowers. There is no little envelope anywhere. “Excuse me,” I call after him, “is there a note by chance?”
“Not that I’m aware,” he calls back.
Wait… Are these from Lance? Probably not. He knows I don’t really like flowers. They are beautiful, but I can’t keep them alive. I’m never home long enough to take care of them. When I come back from missions, all I have is slimy, wilted flower mulch.
After shutting the door, I make my way to the bouquet and bury my face in the thick cluster of flowers. I pick a petal off a peach rose and rub it between my fingers. It’s cool, soft, and smooth. It was a very healthy petal before I plucked it.
There’s nothing left for me to do except appreciate the bouquet. The bouquet already came with stems cut, and an intricate crystal vase, filled with water. All I have to do is admire it. Honestly, it’s nice. Unless you count my mother’s funeral, I can’t remember a time in my life when someone bought me flowers.
I untie my robe and drop it on the ground, set on going back to sleep, when the doorbell rings again. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I cover myself back up and stomp to the door. I bet there was a note that the delivery guy forgot.
“Yes?” I ask, opening the door with agitation covering my face.
I see another bouquet. Same exact colors. Same vase. This time, the delivery person is a woman. “Good morning,” she chirps. The delivery woman is bright eyed with a large, toothy smile. “I have a delivery for Ms. Fiona.”
I step backward, holding the door open, and point to the other bouquet. “I think there’s a mistake. I already got this delivery. Did your shop duplicate the order?”
A bead of sweat drips from her hairline, then down her cheek. She shrugs. “May I?”
I nod and she shuffles into the room to set the vase down next to the other bouquet. As soon as her hands are free, she massages her forearms. “I’m just the delivery service, so I’m not sure what you’re talking about. But the flowers are all taken care of, and well, hey, now you have two.” She gives me a small wave as she exits the room and heads down the hallway.
Two would’ve been a coincidence, but ten minutes later, when the third bouquet arrives, I know this is no accident. This time, a tall, lanky young man with a sturdier grip is standing at my door. He seems unbothered by the heavy crystal vase. I wordlessly step aside, pointing to the table behind me. He sets the vase down and disappears down the hallway after wishing me a good day.
This most definitely isn’t Lance. I know exactly who is doing this.
I rush to the bedroom to grab the phone Gabriel left for me. Sure enough, there’s a new text waiting for me.
Unknown
They are going to keep arriving every ten minutes until you respond.
Me
How’d you know where I was staying?
Unknown
Lucky guess?
Me
Or stalking…
Unknown
The phone you’re messaging me on has GPS tracking, in case it gets lost. I was surprised you’re staying at my hotel.
I look around the upscale room and laugh. Of course, he owns The Crusader. I can’t even say Vienne or Vesper set me up. I chose this hotel. I don’t often get to spend my money like this, so I decided to treat myself.
Me
I don’t need any more flowers. You’re crowding my den area.
Unknown
Perhaps you need an upgrade. How does a two-bedroom presidential suite sound?
Me
Drafty.
I smile at my quick wit. That’s what Gabriel’s attracted to. Sass and smart-assery. I was literally born for this job.
Unknown
If you’d prefer, there are two fireplaces to keep you warm in the penthouse if that suits your fancy. There’s just one problem.
Me
Being?
Unknown
It’s my private residence, so we’d have to share the suite.
Me
Hmm, a problem indeed.
The doorbell rings again, and I brace myself for more flowers. But when I open the door, it’s Gabriel, holding his phone in hand and wearing a playful smile. He’s even more handsome in the daylight. He’s wearing dress slacks and a navy button-down with sleeves rolled up to his mid-forearms. He could easily outshine a Calvin Klein fashion model looking like this.
Before saying anything, he holds up one finger and begins to tap on his phone. He quickly composes a message. There’s a swooping sound as the text sends, followed by a loud ding from the device still in my hand.
Unknown
What exactly is the problem?
Remembering that I’m in an unflattering thick, cotton robe and my hair is disheveled, I spin around, quickly try to smooth my flyaways, and wipe under my eyes. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.
“Oh, please don’t fuss. I very much like this look on you.”
I turn around and scrunch my face at him. “What is this look?”
“Like I caught you off guard and threw you off your game. You seem nervous, and it’s nice to know how I affect you. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.”
Shit. I really underestimated his charm. I press my lips together so my smile doesn’t widen, but there’s nothing I can do about my blushing cheeks. After a deep inhale and exhale, I hold up the phone, waving it in the air. “To answer your question, the problem is, I don’t sleep with men on the first date.”
“Sleeping with me on the first date would require you actually agreeing to a date.” He lifts his brows. “I didn’t hear back from you last night. I was worried.”
He leans against the doorframe, and his cologne wafts around us. Designer cologne. If “rich” had a smell, it’s this combination of amber, wood, and sweet musk. It’s intoxicating.
“You said you had an important meeting. I didn’t want to distract you.”
“ Oh. ” He nods over-theatrically. “ Of course. Here, I thought you were playing hard to get. You are quite distracting, so I appreciate your consideration. Thanks to you ignoring me, my meeting went flawlessly.”
“Well then, you are very welcome.” I flash him a grin. “Glad we cleared that up.”
“Now my meeting’s over,” he says.
“I’m sure you have another.”
He laughs. “Okay, as much as I’m enjoying the banter, I’m no predator. The flowers were meant to make an impression. But I’ll leave you alone if you’re not interested. Have a nice day, Fiona. I hope you enjoy your stay at my hotel.”
That sounded like a goodbye, yet he doesn’t budge.
I cross my arms. “Is this the part where I tell you that you have it all wrong? Wait. Please stay. I’m very interested ,” I say mockingly.
He smiles. “Well, good, I’m glad we’re finally being honest.”
I cover my eyes and laugh. What does that say about me if the devil makes me laugh? Only good things, I’m sure.
“May I come in?” Gabriel asks. “We could order breakfast.”
My stomach drops as reality sets in. My phone is in the bedroom, charging. My real phone with all my PALADIN contacts programmed in it. In addition, my suitcase is open and filled with multiple passports with several identities, and various credit cards under different names. I didn’t get a chance to store them in the safe. I don’t know how I’d explain all that away to Mr. Lie Detector.
“Would you humor me?” I ask.
He quirks one brow. “Perhaps.”
“I don’t want to be in a bathrobe with unbrushed teeth for our first date. Can you give me a moment to freshen up? Maybe we can have breakfast downstairs at the restaurant?”
Gabriel looks pleased. “Absolutely. Take as long as you need. But I have somewhere else I’d like to take you.”
“Where?”
“I own a small bed-and-breakfast in wine country, about an hour from here. There, I employ a chef with four Michelin Stars, who hand-makes everything they sell in the patisserie. You have to try the chocolate-dipped croissants.”
“Another Michelin Star chef? Do you collect them or something?”
Gabriel deadpans. “Oh, yes. Like rare baseball cards.”
I laugh. “Does he make the chocolate fresh?”
“Of course.”
The memory of the time Lance and I passed through Paris comes to mind. It was late at night, and we were on our way to a mission. He wanted to break into a patisserie for a little snack, but I refused. We would’ve never been caught, but I didn’t have the heart to crack the stained glass window in the door of the back entryway. It was so pretty, and it looked important. So, we passed on the dessert. I always wondered what I was missing out on.
“My best friend once told me that fresh chocolate made by a French chef is better than sex.”
“It might be better than sex with some men.” Gabriel winks.
“Not better than you?”
“Well, maybe you can sample both and let me know,” he says with a cute chuckle.
My cheeks ache from trying to control my smile. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. I know this is a job, but this feels so normal. Like how flirting would be outside of PALADIN. If I wasn’t an assassin, is this what dating would be like? Laughing and blushing, with butterflies in my stomach. Is this the other side?
“I’ll meet you in the lobby in one hour,” I say.
“Excellent.” Gabriel glances to his left and grimaces. I peek around his body to see what he’s cringing at. Another delivery man with a thick bouquet of pink, peach, and cream roses is strutting down the hallway. He sees my narrowed eyes and laughs. “It’s the last one, I promise.”