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NINE
“You okay?”
It was peculiar, having people ask me that.Rad rarely had, because even if my answer had been “no,” there wasn’t a hell of a lot either of us could have done about it.But standing here on the guest house balcony with my hands on the railing as I looked out over the water in the distance, a shiver ran up my spine at Alex’s whispered words.Not a warning shiver or a cold shiver, but an oddly pleasant shiver.
He stepped up close behind me and placed his hands either side of mine, his body heat warming me even though we were barely touching.
“Do you want my regular answer or my honest answer?”
“Always the honest answer.”
“I’m not okay, and I never have been.Not once in my entire life.So for me, it’s SNAFU.”
Status Nominal: All Fucked Up.
At least tonight, I was an hour away from Ilya.And we knew itwasIlya.He hadn’t obliged us by going out for dinner, but a little after eight p.m., he’d escorted a blonde woman and a small, yappy dog along the street.It barked at everything, which meant it would also bark at us if we ventured inside the terracotta house.Just one more problem to deal with.Anyhow, Ilya had walked right past the Porsche, now complete with false plates, and peered in at us.But his gaze hadn’t lingered.There was no need—Alex cupped my cheek in his hand and leaned in to kiss me, and Bradley hadn’t been kidding when he said I wouldn’t recognise myself.At first, I’d resisted his offer to help, but Alex had told me it was easier to just go along with things and assured me that Bradley knew what he was doing.So I’d gritted my teeth while he turned me into a redhead with a mass of unruly curls, changed the contours of my face with cheek pads and clever make-up, and completed the look with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.And I had to concede that Alex had been right.Ilya had no idea who I was.No, we weren’t a threat to him, and he carried on at a steady amble, pausing every time the dog stopped to pee on something.
But I’d seen enough.
It was definitely Six.
The woman?I hadn’t crossed paths with her before, but she was pretty.Poised.She looked around her as she walked, but not in the same way Ilya did.He wasaware.She was more…hopeful.As though she thought she should be recognised and was almost disappointed when nobody gave her a second glance.
Too short for a model, so…a singer or an actress.In this town, everyone wanted to be one of the three.Ironically, the one bona fide supermodel I knew, Brooke’s soon-to-be sister-in-law, hated to be recognised and went about her business with her head down.
Why was Ilya with the blonde?He wouldn’t lower himself to bodyguard work, and he didn’t do the girlfriend thing.Were there trust issues?Did he want to keep an eye on where she was going and who she was speaking with?Yes, that was a possibility.
When we got back to Skywater House, I’d checked out Bryant Angelou’s most recent movie, the one in production.The leading lady was Svetlana Oliskaya, and now I had a name to go with the face.She was shacked up with her producer?How cosy.I’d always wondered whether stories of the casting couch were true, and perhaps now I knew the answer.
Alex kissed my hair.My real hair.“One day, I’m going to ask you that question again, and you’re going to tell me you’re okay and mean it.I promise.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.After tomorrow, I don’t even know when I’ll see you again.”
IfI’d see him again.
Nobody ever kept the promises they made to me.When I was a child with dreams of becoming a figure skater, my mama promised that one day, she’d cheer me on in the national championships.Then she’d died.The woman with the tight smile and the big leather briefcase who’d visited me during my temporary stay in jail had promised everything would be okay.Agreed that I’d acted in self-defence and sworn she’d get everything straightened out.She’d lied.Nine’s first victim had promised I’d enjoy what was to come as he unbuckled his belt, and even he’d let me down.
Promises were nothing but wasted words.
“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so after that, you’ll see me on Thursday.”
“Emmy’s hardly going to keep paying me if I can’t do my job, so I’ll need to head home.”
Because I wouldn’t earn as much as I’d hoped, which meant I couldn’t afford to fund a third assistant at the Craft Cabin.Although I’d pay Everly until the end of the week.When I checked in with Brooke earlier, she’d said Everly was doing a great job, so I owed her that much.
“Emmy will find something for you to do, even if it’s surveillance.”
“Eight thousand bucks a day to watch a house through binoculars?Are you serious?”
Although surveillance would prove challenging in that particular location.If we could find a suitable vehicle, then monitoring the rear of the property might be possible.The terracotta house backed onto the water, and across the channel in Belmont Shore, a road ran along the edge of the water.If we parked there in a small RV or a cargo van, we could keep an eye.I bet the back of the house would have plenty of windows.Folks in Naples liked to enjoy their multimillion-dollar views.
Or maybe we could sneak onto a yacht moored at one of the private docks that lined the edges of the shore, the boats squashed in like very expensive sardines?It was winter—some of those floating palaces would be closed up until the weather got better.Although “better” was of course a relative term.Dump these people in Siberia and they wouldn’t survive twenty-four hours, even in summer.
“Emmy will have a plan.She always has a plan.”Alex let go of the railing, and a second later, his thumbs dug into my shoulders.“You’re too tense.Your muscles are full of knots.”
“Darla’s budget doesn’t run to spa days.”Alex kneaded and smoothed, and fuck, that felt good.“Are you really a trained massage therapist?I thought Emmy was kidding.”