Page 28
Story: The Reborn
“Does that include room service?” I asked sarcastically.
“That’s an extra charge.”
“Wait...” My mouth fell open. “Was that a joke?”
“Nope.” He glanced at his watch with a barely contained smirk. “We’ll stay in here another five minutes or so, then we can head out and you can tell everyone our cover story while I go back to the house. Do you have a spare key?”
“It’s hidden under the mat on the back porch.”
“How original. I’m sure no bad guy would’ve ever guessed that.”
“Be nice.”
“Not in the contract.”
I huffed out a breath, hating that he confounded me at every turn with his smart mouth, surprising touches of humor, his scent, those out-of-this-world eyes. Everything about him screamed cold enough to burn, and I had no intentions of getting close enough to be hurt. Besides, this was a professional arrangement, nothing more.
“Asshole.”
“Now you’re getting the idea.”
Ten
Justin
I clocked everything about Colomba Dance Academy within minutes. I drove around, circling the exterior and made thorough mental notes—the back was a narrow alleyway with a small dumpster. In front were large gleaming windows, signage with a simple, sleek logo and an elegant font and a soaring dove nestled inside the curve of the C, plenty of lighting around the lot, plenty of foot traffic. I casually made my way inside and was able to take in the layout of the lobby and most of the main dance areas. Then, on the walk to Olivia’s office, I found where the changing area and restrooms were, a small break room, and what looked to be a storage space, as well as a rear exit. Two doors, two security panels, no cameras. Not gonna work. What it did have going for it was its bright, open location on a busy street not too far from the university campus.
I’d also made quick mental notes about the people inside. Mostly students, mostly young girls and a few young women. No surprises there. The couple of young men probably shouldn’t have surprised me, but they did. Still, they seemed harmless enough, engrossed in their lessons.
There was a blonde teaching in one room and a brunette in another, and of course the young girl with the skittish eyes at the front desk.
And Olivia Creed. Wrapped up in a black leotard and tights with a black filmy skirt, her hair in a messy bun, and her face pink and shiny with exertion. She was beautiful.
When she called me out for being an asshole? Fucking glorious.
I tucked that wayward thought as far away as I could and called out a cheery goodbye and a thank you for everyone else’s benefit before scooting out, but not before the brunette dance teacher popped her head out in the hall and eyed me up and down.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her gaze moving from me to Olivia, then back with clear interest.
“Justin,” I said, maintaining my friendly cover and offering my hand. “An old friend of Olivia’s.”
“Olivia’s...” Her expression cleared as something obviously clicked. “Friend. Right.” Her smile bloomed like she was in on some kind of joke. “Of course.” She took my hand and shot her pal a grin. “She’s told me so much about you.”
“She has?”
“Of course. I’m her best friend, Whitney, by the way.”
I nodded, filing that bit of info away. “Nice to meet you.” I stepped toward the door. “If you’ll both excuse me, I need to get going. I’ve got some things to do.”
Whitney nodded, still taking me in like she knew something I didn’t. “Sure thing. See you later.”
I offered them both a quick salute, then strode out, giving the quiet girl at the front desk a nod.
Outside, I hopped into my grandpa’s 1987 Chevy truck that I’d traded out with my Porsche at home when I packed my bag. Figured it would work better for the whole down-on-my-luck story.
I put the truck into gear and rolled out to head toward Olivia’s place, my cab full of supplies I’d picked up on the way. Camden Creed had basically given me carte blanche on an unlimited spending account for his sister’s safety, and I’d already purchased a few items. Had a few more ideas as well. He’d just given me the go-ahead that morning, reiterating that he didn’t care about the cost, but I would still be emailing him full invoices and updates on every penny spent so there were no questions.
And first thing on the agenda? Making my presence known.
“That’s an extra charge.”
“Wait...” My mouth fell open. “Was that a joke?”
“Nope.” He glanced at his watch with a barely contained smirk. “We’ll stay in here another five minutes or so, then we can head out and you can tell everyone our cover story while I go back to the house. Do you have a spare key?”
“It’s hidden under the mat on the back porch.”
“How original. I’m sure no bad guy would’ve ever guessed that.”
“Be nice.”
“Not in the contract.”
I huffed out a breath, hating that he confounded me at every turn with his smart mouth, surprising touches of humor, his scent, those out-of-this-world eyes. Everything about him screamed cold enough to burn, and I had no intentions of getting close enough to be hurt. Besides, this was a professional arrangement, nothing more.
“Asshole.”
“Now you’re getting the idea.”
Ten
Justin
I clocked everything about Colomba Dance Academy within minutes. I drove around, circling the exterior and made thorough mental notes—the back was a narrow alleyway with a small dumpster. In front were large gleaming windows, signage with a simple, sleek logo and an elegant font and a soaring dove nestled inside the curve of the C, plenty of lighting around the lot, plenty of foot traffic. I casually made my way inside and was able to take in the layout of the lobby and most of the main dance areas. Then, on the walk to Olivia’s office, I found where the changing area and restrooms were, a small break room, and what looked to be a storage space, as well as a rear exit. Two doors, two security panels, no cameras. Not gonna work. What it did have going for it was its bright, open location on a busy street not too far from the university campus.
I’d also made quick mental notes about the people inside. Mostly students, mostly young girls and a few young women. No surprises there. The couple of young men probably shouldn’t have surprised me, but they did. Still, they seemed harmless enough, engrossed in their lessons.
There was a blonde teaching in one room and a brunette in another, and of course the young girl with the skittish eyes at the front desk.
And Olivia Creed. Wrapped up in a black leotard and tights with a black filmy skirt, her hair in a messy bun, and her face pink and shiny with exertion. She was beautiful.
When she called me out for being an asshole? Fucking glorious.
I tucked that wayward thought as far away as I could and called out a cheery goodbye and a thank you for everyone else’s benefit before scooting out, but not before the brunette dance teacher popped her head out in the hall and eyed me up and down.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her gaze moving from me to Olivia, then back with clear interest.
“Justin,” I said, maintaining my friendly cover and offering my hand. “An old friend of Olivia’s.”
“Olivia’s...” Her expression cleared as something obviously clicked. “Friend. Right.” Her smile bloomed like she was in on some kind of joke. “Of course.” She took my hand and shot her pal a grin. “She’s told me so much about you.”
“She has?”
“Of course. I’m her best friend, Whitney, by the way.”
I nodded, filing that bit of info away. “Nice to meet you.” I stepped toward the door. “If you’ll both excuse me, I need to get going. I’ve got some things to do.”
Whitney nodded, still taking me in like she knew something I didn’t. “Sure thing. See you later.”
I offered them both a quick salute, then strode out, giving the quiet girl at the front desk a nod.
Outside, I hopped into my grandpa’s 1987 Chevy truck that I’d traded out with my Porsche at home when I packed my bag. Figured it would work better for the whole down-on-my-luck story.
I put the truck into gear and rolled out to head toward Olivia’s place, my cab full of supplies I’d picked up on the way. Camden Creed had basically given me carte blanche on an unlimited spending account for his sister’s safety, and I’d already purchased a few items. Had a few more ideas as well. He’d just given me the go-ahead that morning, reiterating that he didn’t care about the cost, but I would still be emailing him full invoices and updates on every penny spent so there were no questions.
And first thing on the agenda? Making my presence known.
Table of Contents
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