We finish getting dressed and are standing in the main room. I peer down at my green blouse and pants that are wrinkled as hell—and don’t get me started on the bird’s nest on top of my head. I groan, directing my thoughts back to my flight to Sapphire Isle, and quickly pull my hair into a ponytail.
The woman, whose name I still don’t know, lingers near the front door as if she just walked me home from an actual date—not a one-night stand. Should I be giving a code word or jingling my keys or something?
I hear her cell phone ring on the counter beside me, and I hand it over, unable to stop myself from seeing the name on the bright screen. She rushes to turn off the ringer and shoves the phone in her pocket.Kaydence?Did I just sleep with someone who’s in a relationship?
Don’t even go there.
“Thanks.” She grins at the floor. “Work thing. I’ll call her back later.” After opening the door, she turns to look at me. “I know we agreed on no names last night—well, you know mine—anyway, I was wondering if I could know yours.”
She seems sincere enough for me to want to tell her, but it’s futile. We will never see each other again. I rack my brain for a moment. “How about…” The scent of the cool mint on her breath draws me forward, and something in my stomach flutters. As I drift closer, I catch myself from kissing her, our lips hovering centimeters away. “I’ll tell you when you get back.”
She flashes me that daring, seductive look I recall from across the rooftop. “Bet.”
I return a smile, and a few seconds later, she’s gone.
After letting five minutes pass, I slowly pull the door open, luggage in hand, and check that the coast is clear. Time to finally leave this hotel. Time to close this wine deal before my boss—.k.a. my mother—passes me up for promotion. Again. I have two weeks on a luxury island to get my life together. I don’t have time for heartbreak, only money and mojitos.Look alive, Basil.
I enter the elevator down the hall. One last glance at the door, the one she pressed me up and kissed me against for the first time. “Bye, Caroline…” Her name escapes my lips in a whisper before I press the button, relieved that at least I remember the woman’s name whose touch I'll never forget.
CHAPTER 2
CAROLINE
“Damn it, Kaydence,”I grumble at the insistent ringing from my pocket. My hands are full, and this is the third time she’s called since I left the bakery. In pursuit of my phone, I nearly paint the sidewalk with both lattes before halting at the bench outside the hotel. The paper bag plops on the black steel right before my “one of everything” order tumbles to the ground. Too focused on the brunette from last night, I forgot to inquire about her food preferences. Honestly, I’m surprised I'm buying a woman breakfast at all.
I sit and answer the fourth ring. “King speaking.”
There’s a playful buzzing sound on the other end. “Don’t get that formal tone with me, King. Don’t you know it’s National Assistant Day?”
That makes me laugh. “You say that everytime you call me on a weekend. Besides, I’d hardly say you're an assistant. More like a glorified front desk receptionist who’s never available,” I tease.
“Unfortunately, not this time.” Her chuckle deflates into a long sigh. “Remind me again why I agreed to take all client communication? You know it’s a bad day when the side hustle is hectic enough to make my soul-sucking day job look good. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the field.”
“I’ll gladly take you back in a heartbeat. Don’t expect cybersecurity money though.” I prefer working solo, but Kaydence is the only person I can tolerate for ten hours in a car if need be. When we did work cases together, it was mostly her whining about the amount of takeout I forged through. And I complained about her loud singing before changing the radio station. I miss our dynamic duo sometimes. “Make sure you clear it with the wife.”
“Denied.I’d rather not go there.”
“Thought so.” I reminisce about when it all began. The day I left the federal government agency and took the leap of starting my own private investigation business—that intimidating level of independence back then is now a necessity. Kaydence was the first and only person I hired. She has played a pivotal role in my success as a PI for,what? Twenty years now? Even after swapping forensic cases for a corporate nine-to-five, she stuck around to assist with audits and clients. One thing she’ll never understand is how appreciative I am to never have to speak to a client again, especially after Grace.
“As much as I’d love to join you, you know I can’t.” She rambles her whys—a reminder, more for herself than me. “One: I made a commitment to show up for my kids. Two: I love being happily married. The day I miss one of Rosie’s Jiu-Jitsu classes, we’re both rightfully dead. You're just going to have to let me live vicariously through you. Minus your ten ‘only down for fun’ dating accounts.”
“Two, and I barely use one,” I say matter-of-factly and brush the judgment away. Why do married queers act like everyone around them needs the piece of paper too? After all, I am a whole-ass adult. Who is constantly on the road for work. Who doesn’t have time for money problems or couples therapy or bald-faced lies. I don’t need anyone else to be happy. “Wasn’t it you that told me to get out more? ‘Take a fresh-air vacation. No working inside your car’? Well, that’s what I am doing.”
“Fresh air…in thecity? I hope you felt that eye roll.”
I can’t help but grin. “Sure did.”
“Back to the matter at hand. There are only two possible reasons you refuse to answer on the first call. Either surveillance is heating up or you're fuc—” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Ducking. And since Iknowyou’re not in the field, which is it? Please say you finally called Elle.”
Something down the street steals my attention. “Hold on, Kaydence.” I excuse myself, my gaze trailing the cyclist peering down at his phone and hauling full speed in my direction. A city bus driver who’s clearly not paying attention to his mirrors cuts into traffic. The cyclist dodges and loses both control and the phone, but manages to stay upright. Close call. I release my held breath and shake my head.People be peopling. My nose wrinkles when I inhale the remnants of exhaust and stale beer. Maybe Kaydence is right about getting some fresh air. Seattle, being one of the cleaner-smelling cities I’ve lived in, can still have an odor in the mornings that leaves something to be desired.
Returning to the conversation, I stretch my legs and tilt my head back. “I'm not with Elle.” No matter how many times I tell Kaydence I’m not interested in her matchmaking services, her stubbornness persists. We have that in common, like with most things, except I swear by my intuition while she insists on trusting data. Both end up being utilized at the end of the day. She challenges me nonetheless. It’s also why we’ve been friends since boot camp. “I told you, I don’t need to go on a date with someone to know we aren’t a good fit. I’m notably discerning these days.”
“Discerning or unwilling to trust?”
Both. And that's an understatement. I pivot the conversation. “If you must know, I went to a rooftop party last night. The After Pride After-PartyI told you about.”
A groan echoes through the speaker. Hearing rapid taps on a keyboard, I can picture Kaydence lost in focus, her face an inch away from the screen. After slamming the last key a moment later, she responds. “I should be jealous of the fun, but my body aches on your behalf. I don’t know how you keep up with all that drinking and dancing in your forties. I’m over here at thirty-three, just trying to soak up all the sleep I can before the baby comes. Rosie’s sleep regression has improved, but still.”
