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He looks at Noah like he’s a monster. Before the man leaves, he turns to me for confirmation. His expression is clear—he’s a knight in shining waiter’s garb, here to save me from a low-carb diet and a controlling boyfriend. Just say the word, and a piece of that bread will magically fall onto my plate.

“I’m allergic to wheat,” I tell him mournfully, which isn’t really a lie. I’m just allergic to a lot of other things, too. “He’s saving me from myself.”

The server’s expression eases, and he gives me a sympathetic nod. “I understand. I’ll make a note to have the kitchen omit the biscuit when they’re plating your fish.”

I smile, but inside, I’m crying.

As Noah continues his call, I dip a spoon into the chowder, checking for hidden potatoes. But it tastes safe, just creamy broth with a good dose of butter.

Soup is almost as good as bread, right?

I sigh.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Noah says to the caller, frustrated, and then he sets his phone aside.

“So?” I ask.

“By the time the hunters reached the cafe, Ethan was gone,” Noah says.

“Now what?”

“Now we eat, maybe visit the beach…” He takes a bite of his soup and nods approvingly. “And then we’ll head back to the hotel.”

If that doesn’t sound delightfully dangerous, I don’t know what does.

We haveto revise Noah’s plans since I want to change clothes before we go to the beach.

Noah unlocks the hotel room door, and I nearly groan when I step inside. It’shot.

“What happened to the AC?” I cross the space to look at the thermostat. “I set it as low as it would go earlier.”

“Looks like housekeeping stopped by while we were out,” Noah says. “They probably thought you changed the temperature to arctic by accident.”

I sigh, lowering the thermostat yet again. “We can’t even open the balcony for cool air because it’s still hot outside.”

Noah grunts, agreeing. “When we find Alfred, remind me to ask him why he decided to come to Florida in the summer of all times.”

I look at him over my shoulder as I shuffle through my suitcase. “Do you think the chat will be friendly enough for small talk?”

Noah smiles to himself, setting his suitcase on the bed and sliding the zipper open. “Probably not.”

“It worries me you look eager for the confrontation.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than arresting that man.”

“Cassian is friends with his father, though, right? Won’t that complicate things?”

“When it comes to the heads of the houses, there are lots of complications—friendships being the least of them.”

I frown as I discover my black one-piece swimsuit is missing. In its place is a look-at-me red bikini. A note is safety-pinned to the strap.

Have fun.

It’s in Olivia’s handwriting.

Quickly, I send her a text.

Piper: Thanks a lot, Olive.