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Joe sucked in a breath. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No.” Hailey held up her hand. “The Pacific Rim, are you sure?”
“Yeah, fancy digs. If Marten was gambling, he must’ve had a good run.”
“That’s where my fund-raiser is going to be.” She picked up the broken teacup by the handle and dropped it into the trash. “I wonder if Marten knew that.”
“If he did, why wouldn’t he just set up a meeting at the hotel?” Joe pinched the other piece of the cup between his thumb and forefinger and threw it away. “If you’re having the fund-raiser there, do you think you can get access to Marten’s room?”
“Don’t worry. I can get access to Marten’s room, no problem.”
“Do you know a manager at the hotel?”
“Better than that. I know the owner—it’s my father.”
* * *
JOE ADJUSTED THE scarf around his neck and turned his back to the wind as it whipped around the corner of his hotel. He’d rather be having dinner with Hailey alone tonight, but with Ayala in town he now had a package deal.
Hadn’t his fortune at lunch today encouraged him to take a chance on a dark-haired beauty? Ayala had dark hair and beauty to spare, but he had eyes for just one brunette. He’d already taken a chance on a blonde and failed. Would hair color make a difference?
A sleek white Jag pulled up to the hotel’s loading zone, and the passenger window buzzed down. Hailey leaned over the seat and called out the window. “Hey, stranger, need a ride?”
Joe slid into the car and onto the warm leather seat. “Never thought I’d appreciate a seat warmer, but that wind off the bay cuts right to your bones.”
Ayala leaned forward from the back seat. “Can you imagine how I feel coming from Florida?”
“Yeah, don’t knock the seat warmers.” Hailey skimmed her hands over the steering wheel. “Where are we having dinner?”
“I made reservations at a steak house in the Financial District—Jackson’s on Jackson. Is that okay?”
“Good choice. You must’ve read the reviews.” Hailey pulled out of the hotel and into traffic.
Joe twisted his head around. “Is that okay with you, Ayala? If you don’t eat steak, they have fish and even some vegetarian entrées.”
“Steak is fine by me.”
It didn’t take long for Hailey to navigate the traffic, and twenty minutes later she was handing her keys to a valet attendant.
They took an elevator up to the top floor of the office building, where the restaurant commanded a view over the glittering lights of the city and the Transamerica Building formed a triangle in the sky.
Would’ve been a romantic spot if not for the third wheel. Joe pulled out Hailey’s chair and then made a grab for Ayala’s chair. He’d already twisted the woman’s arm behind her back; he didn’t want her to know his real thoughts.
She smiled her thanks and took her seat as a waiter scurried over to deliver water and a basket of bread.
Hailey sighed. “This is nice.”
Ayala raised her water glass to her lips and gazed over the rim at the view. “A long way from Syria, isn’t it?”
Joe asked, “Are you going back soon or staying in Florida for a while?”
“Just two weeks in Florida before returning to the refugee camp.”
“It must get—” Joe waved a piece of bread in the air “—depressing. How long have you been doing the work?”
“For a few years now. It’s not depressing to me. Those are my people, you know. My parents immigrated to the US from Syria. I have an older brother who was born there. I’d been working as a nurse, and as soon as I learned about the need for medical care during the civil war, I knew I had to help.”
Joe bowed his head. “I am humbled to be in the presence of two such selfless, generous people.”
“As Delta Force, you do your part, too—just in a different way.” Hailey opened the wine menu. “Should we share a bottle?”
“I’m not much of a wine drinker, but you two go ahead. I’m a beer guy—you can take the boy out of Southie, but you can’t take the Southie out of the boy.”
