No secrets.
No bodyguard-client fraternization.
No olives.
Icould see why Krysta didn’t want any bodyguard-client fraternization, given that shaking my hand had seemed like a chore (which, excuse her, but did she even know that she had touched some of the most exfoliated and moisturized hand skin in the business???).
But olives? What the fuck.
“We need to talk about your sleeping arrangements,” announced Krysta, coming back down the stairs with the staccato tread of a military general.
Bailey blinked up at her with big horny eyes. I really just needed to put this baby bird in a bikini and send her out to the pool, because she was clearly already in cruise hookup mode.
Krysta continued, “You’ve got me sleeping across the hall, but there are multiple entries to your suite, and I think it’s safer if I sleep in the second bedroom, so I can be closer in case of a breach.”
That was not the plan. The plan that I had planned on. This wasn’t it!
“Bailey’s sleeping there,” I said. “She’s my assistant, and I needherclose. Plus, she’s excellent at handling breaches—she’s basically a breach legend. So.”
Krysta stared at me.
“I promise I’m not being high-maintenance,” I said. I had a lot of experience explaining why what I wanted was perfectly normal and reasonable. “It’s just that I need someone nearby to record my thoughts, observations, and notes for improvement. It’s the maiden voyage, you know,” I added.
Krysta’s blond eyebrow lifted, but she still didn’t speak.
“And across the hall isn’t so far away. And that room is such a fun room! It’s next to a slide that leads down to the speakeasy—”
Bailey stepped forward with her hands clasped together, all noble voluntarism. “Addison, I think Krysta has a very important point about staying in the suite with you. As your cousin, who cares deeply for your unbreached security, I think we should switch rooms, and we should do it right away, and you know what, I’ll go get my things right now. For your safety. And stuff.”
I saw through her game. She wanted to be close to that slide, and the speakeasy, and the potentially sexy people therein. But before I could call her on it, Krysta said, “Good,” in a voice that clearly signaled the decision was final.
My watch buzzed on my wrist, and I glanced down. I was now nine minutes behind schedule. Shitnuggets!
“Fine,” I said, “but, Bailey, this doesn’t mean you’re getting out of assistant duties. Let’s go.”
I started walking to my next destination, a reluctant cousin trailing behind me, and when I made to shut the suite door, Krysta was there too.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “The rules clearly sayno sneaking off alone.”
“A of all,” I said as we started walking down the hall, “I’m not alone. I have my cousin-assistant. B of all, my manager agreed to those rules, not me!”
“Youwillfollow them, Ms. Hayes,” growled Krysta. Ooh, I did like that growl. Then she stepped in front of me. “Tell me where you want to go.”
“To the theater!” I sang, delighted in having gotten my way somehow, although we’d need to be brisk if we wanted to make up for the lost nine minutes.
A muscle in Krysta’s jaw flickered, like I’d just told her we were going to a self-catheterization workshop, but then her detached expression returned. It looked unfairly hot on her, with the high cheekbones and high forehead, the deep blue eyes.
Yes, stare coldly at me, Mommy. And then tell me what a bad girl I am!
