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“Actually, yes. I’ll come in.”
She smiles, a coy smile. “Good. I like American soldier men.” She extends her hand and I move toward her as the crowd closes around the front of the building again. The woman pulls me through the throng of boisterous partiers, and into a hallway where the coat check line holds us up. The hostess gives me a hard glare looking over my inappropriate attire. The woman clutching my arm speaks rapidly in French and instantly the face of the hostess changes. Obviously, the owner card has been pulled in this standoff. She smiles victoriously as we flow with the stream of people entering the club.
The second we step into the main room of the building, I pull away. “Excuse me for a minute.”
My height has always been an advantage in clubs. And tonight’s no different. I don’t have to push all the way through the crowd to the bar to know Simona’s not on that barstool anymore. The seat is empty.
She’s disappeared in a sea of brunettes in black dresses and men with expensive suits. Fuck.
Turning around, I look for the exit. The entrance we used was one way. There has to be another way out of the club. In my broken French, I ask a waitress for the exit. She points toward a wall not far from me.
Maybe…
I weave through traffic and push open the door into a dead-end alley. When I hit the main street at a jog, I catch sight of a woman, long brown hair, black cocktail dress, turning the corner two blocks away. I sprint after her.
Again, I catch a glimpse of her. This time turning into a doorway for an apartment building.
By the time I reach it, she’s already inside and the door’s locked. Jesus! I jerk my phone out of my pocket and call Andre. “Target spotted, but she went into a building.”
“Text me the address.”
“Copy, I’m going to see if there’s —”
The door pops open and a young couple hurry out onto the sidewalk, never noticing me. I grab the door. “I’m in.” I whisper and disconnect.
I stand in the lobby, listening for a few seconds, until I hear heels on tile. Turning toward the sound, I take the stairs as stealthily as I can. I’m going to need the advantage of surprise or she’s going to try to lose me again.
I hit the landing and follow her sound again. But when I hear a man’s footsteps on the stairs behind me, I turn in the opposite direction of the click of Simona’s heels.
Stepping into the shallow door well of an apartment, I conceal myself as best as I can.
The man’s footfalls continue up toward me, and turn on the landing toward Simona’s direction. I peek around the corner. Son of a bitch. It’s Pavel.
In one arm is a bag of groceries. He’s unaware of my presence, I’m sure. Which is perfect.
I move after him, quieting my steps. He never sees me coming. And when I strike him with the edge of my hand in just the right spot on his neck, he doesn’t even have time to speak. I catch him, and his bag of groceries before he hits the floor.
Setting the bag aside, I grab the neck of his jacket and drag him down the hallway in the direction Simona went.
As I near the end, I know she has to be close. There’s no exit. But I remember I am dealing with Simona, so hard to tell where the hell she is.
“I brought you something,” I say into the quiet corridor, loud enough she’d be sure to hear me.
When she steps out of a door well, there’s pure fury in her eyes. She stamps her stiletto on the tile. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Helping you.”
She tips her chin up and burns a whole into my face with her eyes. Through gritted teeth, she bites out her words. “I. Do. Not. Need. Your. Help.”
“Maybe you don’t, but you got it anyway.”
She snarls. “And! And! Who was the French bimbo?”
“Who knows?” I glance at Pavel who’s slumbering on the floor, his head lolled to the side. “We should take him inside so we can continue this conversation without the police getting involved.”
“I swear!” she mutters as she digs into the tiny purse hanging from her wrist. With quick fingers, she picks the lock on the door of the apartment to my right. “I can’t believe you followed me. How did you find me?”
I follow her inside, dragging Pavel’s limp body.