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"Oh?" Benicio frowned. "I thought you had a house picked out. Lucas said..." His voice trailed off as he saw my look of confusion. "Oh, I see he hasn't mentioned it."
"No, I had not," Lucas said, his voice tight. "But thank you for doing so for me." He turned to me and lowered his voice. "I'll explain later."
We finished the meal in silence.
"What house?" I said before the hotel room door closed behind us.
"I believe I mentioned a potential arrangement with my last client, who, feeling indebted--"
"What house?" I said, throwing my purse onto the sofa. "The condensed version."
"You're understandably upset--"
"Hell, yes, I'm upset. You're making long-term plans for us and I have to hear it from your father?"
"It's not as it sounds. When he first called me in Chicago, he wanted to talk about our apartment. He didn't think it was right, me expecting you and Savannah to live there because I refuse to dip into my trust fund. I told him the apartment was short-term. He wouldn't listen, so I said that I had a lead on a house in Portland."
"Why didn't you tell me? We haven't discussed this, Lucas." I thumped down onto the couch and rubbed my temples. "If this was meant to be a surprise--"
"No, certainly not. I would never presume anything like that. Once this was over, I planned to show you the house and, if you liked it, then it would be yours to take at the offered price, whether you chose to share it with me or not."
"Whether I chose--? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
He sat on the couch beside me, close but not touching. "I would have mentioned it, but I wanted to get through this first. It seemed unfair to discuss long-term plans now, when you were getting your first glimpse of what a life with me might entail--the...familial issues."
"So, you think I'm going to turn tail and run?"
He managed a wry smile. "I'm surprised you haven't already."
"No, I'm serious. Is that really what you think? That I care so little for you that I'd--" I shifted down the couch, away from him. "I knew all about your 'familial issues' when we got together, Lucas."
"Yes, but you may have been unprepared for the impact it could have on our lives. I would completely understand--"
"Would you?" I said, springing to my feet. "You'd understand if I walked out the door? Said 'Sorry, not for me'? Just like you'd understand if you showed me this house and I said, 'I'll take it...now where are you going to live?'"
"I don't want to pressure you, Paige. Of course, I don't want you to leave, and, yes, I want to get this house with you, but if that's not what you want--" He reached for my arm, but I yanked it back.
"You have no idea how I feel about you, do you?"
When he hesitated, I strode to the door. Then I paused, hand on the knob. I couldn't do this. Not now.
"Come on," I said. "We have work to do."
The Cabal photos of Miami had given Lucas a half-dozen possible hotels, which we now needed to check. As for our spat, neither of us mentioned it, though the heavy silence in the car said we were both thinking about it. As much as I wanted to resolve the problem and get past it, I told myself it was better to ignore it for now. Plenty of time to fix things later.
On the fourth possibility, we found a match. A five-story mid-price hotel, with a southern view that matched Faye's description.
We were walking up the side alley, heading for the front of the building, when Lucas's cell phone rang.
"That was Oscar," he said when he hung up. "Faye's awake and very upset. All he can make out is that she wants to see me--immediately."
"Damn," I said.
"If she has new information on the case, it almost certainly relates to Edward's whereabouts, which we've probably found, rendering her information welcome but potentially unnecessary. At this point--" He looked up at the hotel. "I'm loath to walk away, however briefly, from the best lead we've had."
"I could go talk to Faye," I said. "But if Edward's in this hotel, I'd rather back you up."
"And I'd rather have you backing me up."
