“It’s not for me,” Grayson said. “We gotta walk into a high-rise like we belong there. Guards are less likely to think we’re suspicious if we look like the office interns who got sent on a coffee run.”
“Right, right,” Reece said skeptically. “Because you look so much like an office intern, standing six foot five with endless shoulders.”
“I’ll hunch,” Grayson said.
“Doesn’t fix your gorgeous face and perfect hair. Have you considered that going undercover might mean you need to be a little less hot?”
In the end, they got their bags of food and their drinks slotted into cardboard trays, and with Grayson hunched over, his hat pulled to his eyebrows and the drinks in front of his face, Reece could grudgingly concede people might not pay him too much attention.
He, on the other hand, felt wildly conspicuous as he stepped through the automatic doors into the ground floor of the high-rise. He clutched the bags of food tightly in his bare hands and followed Grayson a little more closely than he probably should have, considering that if Grayson stopped suddenly, there was a chance Reece would bump into him, and their clothes might not be enough to keep him from passing out.
The lobby was generically fancy, with clusters of modern furniture set along the two-story glass windows that framed the thick traffic along the street. A large sign on the wall by the elevator bank readAll visitors must check in with security.
Reece glanced out of the corner of his eye at the end of the lobby, where there was a security desk with a trio of guards behind it.
Just walk on in like you belong here.Why his thoughts had to take on a Southern accent when he was taking Grayson’s advice, Reece was sure he didn’t know, but he kept his eyes on Grayson’s back and followed him to the bank of elevators to wait with a cluster of people in business casual attire, most of them carrying winter coats.
They stepped into the elevator, and Reece watched Grayson’s eyes go to a woman in a cardigan, who’d just pressed the button for the twenty-fourth floor. When the elevator stopped at twenty-four, Grayson cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but could you get the door for us?” Grayson said, as they followed Cardigan out of the elevator and into a small waiting area. This definitely wasn’t the main floor of Stone Solutions, because the door had only a small sign and a card scanner. “We got a delivery from a happy client.”
She glanced at Grayson. And then her gaze lingered, because Reece was right—he could try and hunch all he wanted, but he was still stupidly attractive. It worked in their favor this time, though, because Cardigan smiled and said, “Sure!”
A moment later, she’d scanned her card. Despite his full hands, Grayson somehow managed to gracefully twist in to hold the door for her with his shoulder. “Appreciate it,” he said to her.
“Anytime,” she said, with a little too much sincerity. “Do you work here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
Because I would have fucking noticed someone as hot as you, Reece could practically hear her finish.
“Does running errands all day count as working here?” Grayson said, dodging the question as gracefully as he’d gotten the door. “You should come by the staff kitchen in a few minutes; one of these might have your name on it.”
“Yeah, cool,” she said, her gaze still on him, and boy, it was a good thing an empath like Reece was way too emotionally evolved for a caveman feeling like possessiveness over someone who wasn’t even his boyfriend and he couldn’t even touch.
Way too emotionally evolved.
Yes he was.
Cardigan turned down a hall, and Reece followed Grayson as they continued straight. “You know where you’re going?” Reece said quietly.
Grayson nodded. “I’ve been here before. Anyone asks, we’re office services.”
“If your office serves up catwalks, sure,” Reece muttered.
As they moved down the hall, they picked up a line of workers that followed them into the kitchen like they were white-collar Pied Pipers. “From a happy client,” Grayson lied again, as they set their stash on a round Formica table, and no one asked further questions as they descended to claim free food.
Reece carefully twisted around the crowd so he wouldn’t make contact with anyone as he and Grayson slipped out of the staff kitchen.
“Marist has an office on the twenty-sixth floor,” Grayson said quietly, as they stood against the wall.
“And how do we get up to her office?”
Grayson held up a key card.
“Wait,” Reece said. “Did you steal that?”
Grayson jerked a hand toward the office kitchen. “No one was looking past the lattes in there.”
Reece frowned.
