Bryn stared at him.“You’re not joking, are you?”
“Bryan would know these things,” Giles said.The comment was calm but barbed all the same.
“Bryan needs to get a fucking life,” Bryn muttered, disappearing into his room.
He heard Giles call after him, “Page twenty-three.My thoughts on work-life balance and appropriate leisure activities for executive assistants.”
Bryn closed his door a tad too hard.He needed to decompress for a while so he lay back on the ridiculously comfortable bed, dealt with the room service order then made a much more welcome call.
“Everything okay?”Gunnar answered so fast he had to have been holding his cell.
“Fine.Just weird.This whole thing is weird.”Bryn stared at the ceiling.“Did you know there’s a TV that comes up out of a cabinet at the foot of the bed?Like something from a spy movie.”
“Is Giles still breathing?”
“He is, but it’s only been two hours.”Bryn smiled at the protective edge in Gunnar’s voice.“He’s actually being…well, still Giles, but almost helpful.In an annoying way, of course.”
“I don’t like you being alone with him.”
“I know.I don’t like it either but he needs this to work as much as we do.”Bryn rolled onto his side.“Besides, I’m pretty sure I could take him in a fight now.Assuming that capsule doesn’t eradicate dirty fighting skills.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.Still warm.Everything’s a bit…sharp.But nothing like before.”He paused.“Thanks for staying with me through that, by the way.”
“Always.”
“I miss our bed.This one’s too big and too fancy and doesn’t have you in it.”
“It’s only for one night.”
“Assuming we don’t all get killed tomorrow.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Sorry.”Bryn sighed.“I should go.I need to shower then room service is coming.Apparently ‘Bryan’ gets up at an ungodly hour to review the day’s schedule and check the international markets.”
“Of course he does.”Gunnar’s voice softened.“Call me if you need anything.I’m only four floors down.Try not to murder Giles before morning, but if you do I’ll help hide the body and give you an alibi.”
“No promises,” Bryn said, but he was chuckling as he hung up.
* * * *
Bryn slouched into the suite’s dining area at six-thirty, yawning until his jaw cracked.He had on his oldest ripped jeans and a ratty T-shirt.Giles was already there, immaculate in a charcoal suit and deep red silk tie, reading something on a tablet while sipping coffee.
“You look terrible,” Giles said.
“Thanks.That’s exactly what an executive assistant needs to hear before a critical meeting.”Bryn slumped into a chair, eyeing the elaborate breakfast spread on the table.“Did you order everything on the menu?”
“I like to have options.”
Bryn reached for the coffee pot, only to have Giles slide it away.
“You need to learn how to pour coffee.”
Bryn stared at him.“It’s six-thirty in the morning.There cannot possibly be a wrong way to pour coffee and if you don’t let me have that pot, violence will occur.”
“There are at least seven wrong ways, and you were about to demonstrate four of them.”Giles set aside his tablet.“Watch.”
