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I hesitate. I don’t think she will. I know she repeated my line about being a little in love, but we’ve only been together a few days. It’s no time at all to ask someone to change their life for you.
I slide down the pillows a bit. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure.”
“Like… what’s this about you moonlighting?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I hear you’ve been earning some spare cash as a stripper.”
His jaw drops, and then his eyes narrow. “Fucking Huxley. Can’t keep his mouth shut.”
I laugh. Huxley emailed me this morning to give me the rundown. Saxon has been up in Auckland keeping an eye on things in my absence, and they went out last night. “What happened?”
Saxon looks up at the ceiling for a moment before returning his exasperated gaze to me. “Hux wanted to try out a new bar he’d heard about. I went out with him, Elizabeth, Mack, and Sidnie. I… ah… might have had one too many.”
“I’m shocked.”
He gives me a wry look. “There was a group of girls there, well, women, but young, early twenties.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. It was a leaving do. Apparently they’d organized a stripper, but he hadn’t turned up. One of them asked me to stand in.”
“Tell me you didn’t,” I say, already knowing the answer from Huxley’s story.
“I declined politely. But the others were all cheering, and then Hux and Mack joined in, and, well, I sort of unbuttoned my shirt a bit just for a laugh…” He scratches the back of his neck.
I chuckle. Huxley told me that Saxon went a bit further than that, but I decide not to push it. “Hux said you disappeared with a redhead.”
“Um, yeah. She came back to my hotel room.” He plays with a pen for a moment before lifting his gaze back to me. “I liked her.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yeah. But I won’t be seeing her again. She was moving away.”
“Did you get her name?”
“Yes,” he says sarcastically. “Catie. With a C.”
“Pretty.”
“She was.”
“I meant her name.”
“That too.” His gaze drifts away as he obviously remembers a moment from the night before. Then it comes back to me, and he sighs. “When I woke up this morning, she’d gone.”
“Ah, fuck. No number?”
“Nope. Huxley didn’t know her or the group she was with. I’ve got no way of tracking her down.”
“Maybe the bartender?”
“She obviously didn’t want me to find her. It’s a fine line between being interested and stalking, you know? It was fun, but I’ve got to let her go.” He looks wistful. Then he sighs. “You want to go through the report?”
“Yeah, okay.”
