“You don’t have to do that.”
“Charlie wouldn’t have to go,” he insisted, ducking to catch my eyes. “I can ask Sam to go with you. She’d probably jump at the chance to get her nails done. It would be a girls’ day out, just like you wanted.” He seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for my answer.
Sam, he’d said. Not Charlie.
Spa packages could last for hours. Hours without Charlie looking over our shoulders.
I smiled up at Nick, a plan taking shape. “On second thought, I could really use a massage.”
CHAPTER 24
“Rise and shine, girls! We’re going to be late for our massages!” My mother threw open the thick curtains of our hotel room with a flourish, lifting her face toward the rising sun over the boardwalk and drawing a deep breath through her nose, as if she could actually smell the beach in our hotel room. I luxuriated in the bed, basking in the last few moments of my first real night of sleep in days. I curled into the small, warm corner of sheet Vero had left me. One of her legs sprawled across my side of our double bed, her backside pressed snugly against my hip.
A heavenly smell wafted through the room. I sat up slowly and sniffed. “Is that coffee?”
Vero lifted her pillow off her face. Her nostrils wiggled and she sat up fast, taking the last of my sheet with her. She blinked against the sunlight streaming through the window, her hair a nest of snarls.
Three large coffee cups were nested in a cardboard carrier on the dresser, our names written on the sides. A fourth cup had been filled to the brim with extra creamers, sugar packets, and stirrers.
“Nicholas brought them.” My mother said his name with a reverence she usually reserved for her hairdresser, George Clooney, and her priest(and once for Steele Johnson as he’d hugged her goodbye). “Wasn’t that thoughtful of him? And he brought breakfast for each of us. The children, too.” She unrolled a paper bag, releasing tantalizing, buttery bakery smells. She held out a blueberry muffin. Vero dove for it, peeling back the pleated paper and moaning as her teeth sank into it. I reached for the lemon-poppy my mother offered me, chasing it with a long gulp of coffee. It had the perfect amount of sugar and cream, exactly the way I liked it. By the rapturous look on Vero’s face, hers was perfect, too.
“I think I’m in love with your boyfriend,” she said, licking her fingers.
“Where is he?” I asked my mother with a lingering twinge of guilt. I’d been so hard on him yesterday afternoon in the car, and after the trauma of losing the children in the casino, I’d been quick to say good night after he walked me back to my room.
“Garrett and Nicholas left a few minutes ago. He asked me to give you this.” She handed me a folded piece of hotel stationery, careful to avoid eye contact with me. My name was printed on the front, and I gave her an admonishing look, certain she had read it. “What?” she asked, looking offended as I took it.
I turned my back to her as I unfolded it. Vero peeped over my shoulder as I read.
Hope you got some sleep. Garrett and I hit the road early to meet with the local PD in Newark. Didn’t want to wake you. Hoping to have Zhirov in custody this afternoon and make it back in time to take you to a late dinner to celebrate. I’ll text when I know more. Have fun at the spa with the girls.—Nick
“You two hurry up and get ready,” my mother said, taking a muffin for herself. “Nicholas booked massages for each of us at ten. Georgia is watching the kids and Sam’s coming with us. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes to pick us up.”
“What’s Charlie doing?” I asked casually.
“He left right after Nick and Garrett. He said he had some errands to run.” My mother dusted crumbs from her hands. “I’m going next door to get the children ready for the day. Your sister and Steven are taking them to the beach and the arcade.” My mother carried another bag of pastries to the adjoining door and rapped loudly before opening it. The children cheered as she announced that Nick had brought them muffins for breakfast. She offered one to Steven. He rejected it with a bitter “no thanks.”
Vero leaped up from the bed and closed the door between our rooms. “Let’s find this loan shark so we can track down the damn Aston and rescue Javi.” She dug in her bag for Enzo Russo’s business card. I got dressed and used the bathroom while she made the call.
“Where are we meeting him?” I asked as I put on my sneakers.
“At his office.”
“He has an office?”
“A few blocks from here, apparently.”
A loud knock startled us both. I unlocked the door and Sam breezed in, fresh-faced and glowing, her dark hair pulled back in a fashionable twist. She looked like she’d stepped right off the Lululemon homepage, in a pair of bright pink leggings and a coordinated top that made our black yoga pants and hoodies look dull by comparison. “Hey, girls!” she sang, coffee in hand, waving her half-eaten chocolate croissant at us. “Who’s ready for some pampering? Nick booked a four-hour package for each of us—massages, facials, pedicures, the works! He was either feeling really grateful or really guilty. Which was it?” she asked, wagging her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
“Definitely guilty,” Vero chimed in.
“Ooooh, what’d he do?” Sam asked, sitting cross-legged on our bed.
“He was hovering, being overprotective, and getting up in Finlay’s business.”
“Because he cares,” my mother said, coming back into the room. “I think it’s very noble that he goes to such lengths to keep you and the children safe.”
Sam nodded sagely. “Well, if it makes you feel better, Finlay, I promise not to bring any Big D energy to the spa.” Vero raised an eyebrow at the floral pattern on Sam’s very fancy yoga pants. “Big Detective,” she clarified. “Today is all about us girls. By the time Nick gets back from Newark, you’ll feel like a brand-new woman.”
