“Hello?” I asked cautiously.
“You had something nonessential to ask me?” His voice was dark, dangerous, and sent a thrill down my spine.
“Yes, do you know who this is?” My heart pounded ridiculously fast for no reason. Well, the reason was him. I was legitimately stupid about him.
“Me.” He sounded so mocking.
It’s true, I’d left an idiotic message on his machine. This is why villains didn’t leave messages. “Right. It’s Dani. Daniela. The person you drugged and left unconscious in a hotel room.”
“You wanted me to stay there, staring at you while you were unconscious? Some might find that slightly disturbing. Good to know that you’re an exception for next time. It’s actually your turn to knock me out and dump me somewhere. Feel free to watch me sleep all you want. I like being slightly disturbed,particularly when I’m unconscious. So, Villain, did you actually get a phone or are you calling from a gas station?”
“I didn’t mean that I want you to watch me sleep. I wish you hadn’t knocked me out.”
“But the surgery was slow and painful. I mean, I sat there for hours while Roger worked on you, buying horrible clothing. Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention was written for that shopping session. You did not want to be conscious during that. Either the surgery or the shopping. Tell me about your phone.”
“Why do you care so much about my phone? Also, shopping is not your forte.
“I’m the tech genius. I care about tech stuff. If you want to tell me about your chocolate or your personal thoughts on absolutely anything, tell me that too. I’m greedy for any part of yourself you give me.”
“Yeah? Including panic attacks and bullet shrapnel? I know it’s all part of your plan. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why you wanted me in Las Vegas.”
“Tell me about your phone, and I’ll think about it. Is it pink?”
I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “I bought a phone with prepaid minutes so I can dump it any time. It’s not pink.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Mine isn’t either. Electronics are so tragically serious.”
I sat down on the floor and shifted Othello so he looked more comfortable. “Yes, they are. So, are you going to tell me your plan?”
“I will tell you that telling you about my plan is definitely not on my plan. I got your note. When are we going on our date?” He sounded greedy for more of me, like he hadn’t just abandoned me in a hotel room when he could have stayed there, watching me sleep like a psycho.
I ran my finger over the seam in the wood floor, trying to be normal and not have a heart attack from the way it was flinging itself all over the place. What was wrong with me? Dirk Dagger was just some guy, but my heart thought he was all the flowers my butterflies needed to consume this second. “I don’t have time for a date. I got a job.”
He was silent for a beat. “Ah. And that’s why you called. Is it an assassination or something more complicated? I’m flattered that you think I could help. I’m assuming that the job is the nonessential that you’re calling about, unless it’s the date, but we both know that dating is more essentially dangerous than anything else.”
I licked my lips. They were suddenly dry, maybe from the idea of dating him. What would that look like? Would there actually be stabbing? I wasn’t sure I was up for that. I’d actually rather have a couch and popcorn kind of date. Supervillain of me, I know. Not that I’d called him for a date. Right. Focus. “I’m going to play in an orchestra at the party Horse is throwing on Wednesday, but I don’t know who else is playing or what the music will be. I need to rehearse. I haven’t played with a lot of other people, but I don’t know how to contact Horse or whoever he has in charge of his party’s music. Jezebel said that you’d know.” It made absolutely no sense that he’d know who did Horse’s music whether he had his own team or not. Why had I listened to Jezebel? She was too crazy to be trusted. And now I sounded like an idiot who made up problems so I could call a man and have him solve them for me.
His tone was warm, not mocking, but how could I tell over the phone? “Ah, that kind of job. I have to argue that your playing is far from nonessential, but I suppose there’s no accounting for opinions. Janice is the one you want to talk to or, to be clear, the one you don’t want to talk to. She will be able to tell you all about rehearsals and whatever else you’llneed to know. Hm. Maybe you should call Eric instead, her undersecretary, who is capable of tact and diplomacy. I’ll text you his number. It won’t be a classical tuxedo-kind of party. It’ll be loud and rough, with a lot of alcohol and vulgar men and women. Think electric cello, and if you’re the main musical feature, you’ll be dressed to stun, which is another word for skin. Are you sure that’s the kind of party you want for your debut?”
My head whirled at the scene he was describing, and my stomach tightened, but the answer was still yes, because Dirk would be there, and he would be impressed. I’d make sure of it. I could do this because I wanted to, not because I had to. And if it was vulgar and tasteless, it couldn’t be worse than my first public performance on the street corner in my corset.
Hopefully, he’d never know that happened. Talk about humiliating. I said, “Thank you for the number. Goodbye.”
“Wait. We haven’t discussed the date.”
“You can send me a note.” I hung up and took deep and even breaths while a rush of reactions went through me.
Panic, because was he really going to watch me play? What if it was horrible? He had to think I was good at something, and it wasn’t stabbing him. Or seducing him. Or anything else.
Also the butterflies, and the need I had to squeal about how perfect he was, sweet, rich, like the deepest kind of chocolate. I didn’t get excited about men. Absolutely not, but there it was. Toni did that sometimes. It was a normal reaction. I should lean into it, except that it would freak out Toni because she’d realize that my mission was completely blown. Obsolete. In absolute tatters. I didn’t want her rescuing me, and Horse said that I had to do what I wanted.
I grabbed a pink and black striped purse and headed to the nearest chocolaterie. While I waited in line, I texted Eric and got the details about rehearsal time, which would be nine a.m. the next morning. Would Nix be okay with that? I could takeoff some time to rehearse and maybe stay late on Thursday and Friday if he really needed work done.
I felt good walking down the sidewalk with my stash overflowing my arms, organizing my life how I wanted it to be. It was a strange feeling, one that I shouldn’t get used to, but I wasn’t going to think about that until I’d gotten control over myself. Maybe I never would.
23
VILLAIN
