Reuben makes me feel seen.
And it terrifies me.
“We've got a job.”
My heartbeat spikes nervously, but I keep it off my face. “Briefing?” I ask.
“Kitchen.”
“Coming.” I look away from him to take a look around the room.
That's the extent of our conversation but I can feel him hovering in the doorway as my fingers curl around the ring on my dresser. I throw the thin chain over my head, allowing the feel of the metal against my chest, to settle the nerves and nostalgia.
“¿De qué huyes, estrellito?”I hear Reuben’s voice in the doorway, muttered mostly to himself, and once again, I make a mental note to find a dictionary somewhere, just in case he’s insulting me.
Maybe he regrets asking me to join the team.
I steel myself. I can’t allow that.
When I turn around, Reuben is gone. I can hear his footsteps receding down the hall, and I pedal quickly to catch up to him before following him down the stairs.
The first day of training with the team had been the worst, but since then,I’ve gotten used to moving Christian’s body and executing his sharper movements. If anything, I made Christian Adler even better, a force to be reckoned with in Reuben’s squad, and I was proud of that.
Now, I just need to make sure I perform the same way on the field.
My heart lurches into my stomach at the memory of the last operation—at the memory of Geoffrey Nash—and my hands immediately become clammy.
I shake my head to blot it from my mind quickly, surprised at myself for being so uneasy, as I hover at the threshold of the main kitchen. But within moments, I’ve pulled myself together and am stepping in line with the rest of the team at the bar.
My window to run away closed the moment I crossed the border to Seattle.
My only option now is to see this through to the end.
And to make it the most magnificent end possible.
If anyone had told me how the next twenty-four hours would go, I would've ignored them. But ever since Reuben explained the job, there has been a consistent crease between my brows.
It was there when I left the kitchen—actually when the team leftmein the kitchen because I was still so impassively confused—
It was there when I went to sleep and woke up the next day.
It was there when Xavier dropped off, and fitted me into my new suit with the biggest grin, around noon.
And it remained when Wesley drove the lot of us to the nearest port—where I saw the sea for the first time.
When Reuben dragged us onto a cruise ship—the first I've ever seen in my life, with five decks and the most dazzling facilities I’ve ever seen—though theonlyfacilities I've ever seen, so we're starting with a low bar really.
When he introduced us to the client—because apparently we have‘clients’?
And it remains now when a petite beauty with hazel eyes and jet black hair flashes me a smile and holds out her purse.
“Hold this for me?” she asks sweetly.
Reuben’s client. Camille Dayton.
I take the, likely expensive violet purse without a word as she bends to adjust her heels.
Turns out, the job is to protect Miss Dayton, the heiress to a supposedly important, chain of clothes and perfumes, and granddaughter of one of our Don’s closest friends, while she celebrates her 21stbirthday.
