I actually am looking forward to seeing her.
"Mr. Prescott!" A woman in spa whites greets me with a serene smile. "Your partner hasn't arrived yet. Would you like to wait in the relaxation lounge?"
"I'll wait here."
She nods and glides away.
I check my phone: 2:03 PM.
Jane's late.
We should use the time after to go over the plan for tonight. There's a rehearsal dinner and we still haven't locked down how close Jane needs to get to Blake without drawing Scarlett's attention. I pull up my notes—
"Sorry! Sorry, I'm here!"
Jane bursts through the entrance likeshe's running from something, shopping bags swinging, hair escaping its knot, cheeks flushed from the heat.
She's smiling. A little breathless, a little sheepish, and completely unaware of how bea—
Focus.
"Traffic?" I ask.
"Barbie found a shoe store." She drops the bags, breathing hard. "I tried to leave. She blocked the door. It was a whole thing." She looks me up and down—shirtless already because I gave up on the robe three minutes ago—and her flush deepens. "You're actually here."
"I said I would be."
"I know, but I thought maybe you'd... I don't know. Fake an emergency."
"Considered it." The honesty slips out before I can stop it. "But then I remembered Scarlett probably has spies watching to see if we bail."
"Right. Scarlett." Jane twists her hands together. "So we're really doing this."
"We're really doing this. One hour."
"In and out," she mumbles, then her eyes go wide. "I did not mean that the way it—"
"I know."
"Okay. Good. Let's just—" She gestures at the entrance. "Go be relaxed."
The spa attendant returns, smile perfectly serene. "Wonderful! You're both here. If you'll follow me, we have a beautiful couples suite prepared."
She leads us down a hallway lined with flickering candles and into a room designed to facilitate romance.
Dim lighting. Soft music. Two massage tables side by side.
Very close together.
Jane eyes them. "Well. That's cozy."
"Same as a king bed," I say.
"Yep." She nods once, like she's cataloguing a tactical detail. "Yep, it is."
Neither of us moves.
"We're professionals," Jane says.
