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"33. Is that a problem?" He arched an eyebrow, daring me to say that it was.
I shook my head. Him being ten years older than me wasn’t a problem. The damn trackers were though.
"Good," he said, as if we'd just settled a business deal. "Elliot will pick you up at eight."
"I'd rather you picked me up, or I could meet you somewhere?"
"I have a late meeting so I can't pick you up and I don't want you driving yourself. I don't trust that thing you drive and I plan to keep you out of it as much as possible. Besides," he arched his scarred brow at me, "I've seen how you drive."
"Hey, in all fairness, I was particularly nervous that day."
"And you're going to be particularly nervous tonight, so I think it's better if you don't get behind the wheel." His tone was patronising as hell but I let it go with a roll of my eyes.
"I could get a taxi instead," I offered. He leaned back in his seat as if to get a better look at me and spent a moment studying my face. I flushed under the intense scrutiny.
"Is there a reason you don't want Elliot to pick you up?" I shook my head. "Lola, please don't lie to me. I'll get it out of you one way or the other so you might as well save us both the time."
I sighed, feeling like a chastised child. "The other night…" I trailed off, remembering how Elliot had discovered Alfie and I in the gardens.
"Ah. You're embarrassed. Lola, look at me." I looked up at him, his grey eyes steadying me in a way they never had before. "There is very little that Elliot hasn't seen. He is very discreet. That's part of the reason why he works closest to me. I need to be able to trust him and I do, implicitly."
I knew that he intended for his words to calm me but all I could think about was how many times Elliot had stood watch while Alfie fucked some woman. Hundreds of times, probably. Probably in his car. The car I was in right now…
"Stop." He gripped my chin and shook me slightly. "Whatever it is you're thinking, stop it. Yes, I've fucked other women and yes, Elliot has been around that. I’m telling you not to ruminate on my past. I’m also telling you that Elliot won’t judge you over one kiss."
For the first time since I'd met him, I made a conscious decision to trust his word.
"Alright," I nodded again, "I understand. Elliot can pick me up." He relaxed as if he'd been expecting more of a fight and I raised an eyebrow at him as if to say,"See, I can be reasonable too." I gave him a small smile. “Okay, I should really go. You know the tracker conversation isn’t over, right?"
Alfie gave an indifferent shrug. "Take these with you." He reached into his pocket, producing the red velvet box. "Wear them tonight."
"Alfie, I really don't want them."
"Just take them, Lola." He held the box out to me and, once again, I caved. I'd had enough of arguing for one day.
Before I could get out of the car, his hand snaked up to cup my face again, and he gazed at me like I was a long lost artifact, newly discovered.
"You're doing something to me, O'Connell." The words came in a rush, as if he’d had to force them out before his courage failed him. I swallowed, summoning the same courage.
"Right back at you," I whispered, unable to say the words too loud, just in case some higher power heard me and decided to snatch him away. Slowly, he leaned into me and pressed his warm lips to my cheek. I had to fight hard not to turn and kiss him, to throw him back against the seat and straddle him.
He pulled away with visible effort but didn't let go of me. Instead he held me close, nose to nose.
"Tonight," he said, his tone forcing a promise from me.
"Tonight," I promised, feeling like I'd just made a deal with the devil. His gaze searched my face for any sign of treachery but he must have found me honest because he nodded and released me.
"Good. Now, get out of my car before I tear that dress off of you." I laughed but he didn't join me. I noticed how his knucklesgripped the steering wheel. My laughter died in an instant and I scrambled out of the car, the red velvet box clutched tight in my palm.
Fourteen
That afternoon I finished up my work early and dedicated the rest of the day to figuring out how to get rid of those damned trackers. I took my phone apart and quickly realised I had no idea what I was looking at. I put it back together, searched it, and found no suspicious apps. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Google was useless too.
My van was my next stop which I was even more clueless about. I crawled under the vehicle, ignoring the confused stares of shoppers passing by. I had no idea what I was looking for. I racked my brain through every spy movie I’d ever seen but it didn’t help. Drawing a blank I crawled out and checked under the hood. Nothing in there had a‘Disable Tracker Here’sticker on it so, with a huff, I slammed the bonnet shut and got into the driver's seat. I searched every square inch of the interior and found nothing.
As a last ditch effort, I called my mechanic but after finding out how much it would cost for them to search it, I quickly gave up. I couldn’t afford it and Alfie knew that. I sat in my van, my phone in my hand, feeling like I was being watched. I searched my mind for a solution but I couldn’t find one so I tried to be objective.
Had Alfie violated my privacy? Yep. Big time.