“You’re forgiven, Ninja. Have a seat.” He stood and pulled her chair out. He adjusted her closer to the table and grabbed the napkin near her plate. With a flourish, he snapped the fabric open and placed it on her lap before grabbing her plate and filling it with half of the remaining lobster, rice, and a heap of garlic broccoli. He kissed the top of her head and handed her a pair of chopsticks.
“Rayna, you remember, Kylie?” Patrick asked.
“Yes, of course. Nice to see you again.”
“How was your movie last night?” I asked, watching her facial expressions for any signs of distress or embarrassment.
“It was so good.” She giggled. “I want to go see it again. Maybe you can come next time.”
“Maybe,” my agreement was soft. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to suppress her little or if it was her default personality trait hovering between the two. She seemed so comfortable in her own skin, or maybe that’s what Kyler required of her.
Either way, she charmed everyone she met. Including myself.
“Where’s Tinley today?” I asked and ate. I barely suppressed a moan as the flavors exploded on my tongue.
Rayna took two pieces of lobster and stuffed them into her mouth.
“Tinley has class,” she said around the food.
Kyler placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t talk with your mouth full; you’ll choke.”
She pouted, but then stopped herself and smiled up at me and adjusted her chopsticks. The table remained quiet for a fewminutes. Rayna continued stabbing pieces of sticky fried lobster with the ends of her chopsticks and eating them one by one. She rocked back and forth as she ate, like a self-soothing child.
“Kylie.”
I gasped and jumped in my seat. Kyler’s voice startled me.
“Yes, sir.” I didn’t recognize the tone of my own voice. At the FBI, they would never have hired someone sounding so meek and unsure of herself. I cleared my throat. “I mean, Mr. Grant.” A bit of timber had returned.
“Why did you leave the FBI?”
Obvious questions Patrick had already asked. I gave him the same answer. “I was limited at the FBI. They weren’t using me to the best of my ability.” I affirmed this and picked up my fork.
“You feel your skills will be better utilized at my organization.”
Rayna squeaked but dropped her head. A smile played at the corners of her mouth. He peeked at her, then returned his attention to his plate. He had yet to look at me.
“To be honest, Mr. Grant.” I adjusted in my seat to face him. “I didn’t ask for a position with your organization. Patrick came to me.”
The room fell silent.
Across the table, Rayna’s eyes grew wide, her chopsticks frozen in midair.
I imagine she didn’t see many people confront Kyler Grant.
But at least it got Kyler to look at me. He set down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a black cloth napkin. He leaned back in his chair, his hands dropping to his sides. His eyes remained on me, boring into my soul. The imaginary weight of his stare made a vein in my neck twitch. I struggled to keep his gaze while fighting with myself not to react. Instead, I stood my ground.
“I hope you enjoyed your time here at my hotel.” He shifted his chair back. “I understand your vacation is coming to an end. Patrick, arrange for a car to take Ms. Stands to the airport when she’s ready.”
I blinked and scooted my chair back. The sound of it scraping against the marble floor made my neck muscles seize.
He bent over and whispered something in Rayna’s ear. She nodded slightly, and then he turned and walked away.
Rayna stuffed the last two pieces of lobster into her mouth, wiped her face, and stood up.
“It was nice seeing you again, Kylie.” She waved and pouted. “Safe travels.” She skipped off after Kyler.
I stared off to where both disappeared down a hall at the back of the apartment.
