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Why do they want us to stay the night? Is it Italian hospitality? Or, is there something else going on?
I glance at Sebastian and he nods, his eyes trying to tell me something telepathically. I think he’s trying to say he didn’t get the information because he agrees to stay, “That’s a great idea. I’m tired.”
Enzo stands. “Well, Oliver, you know I have that thing to do. I could come back after,” he says, staring at me.
I shake my head. “No, it’s ok. You can just stay out.” I yawn. “I’m exhausted anyway. I’ll probably just pass out.”
Oliver laughs, slapping Enzo on the back. “Yeah, you go do that thing. Come back tomorrow.”
I want to protest about staying here because I don’t have any of my things, but I can see Sebastian really wants to stay so I figure he needs help getting to Oliver’s computer.
Enzo says his goodbyes and Oliver’s wife appears to lead me to a room near the rear of the house.
“If you need anything, dear,” she says, walking out of the room and shutting the door, before finishing her sentence. She’s trashed.
I sit on the small bed in the corner and look around the airy room while I remove the dangly silver earrings from my ears. It reminds me of a country home with the gingham blue comforter and pictures of daisies on the wall. I lean back and rest my head on the frilly lace pillow. Now what? I’m not really tired.
The house sounds quiet, and I rise from the bed and tiptoe toward the door. Maybe I can find the information for Sebastian. I peek into the hallway, holding my breath, checking to see if anyone is walking around.
I traipse down the hall, keeping my feet light on the floor.
It’s dark, the moon barely casts any light through the windows, and I try not to make a sound as I make my way downstairs.
There’s a figure down in the kitchen, rummaging through a drawer. I have to believe it’s Sebastian, but I can’t be too sure.
I step onto the tiled flooring of the kitchen, and the figure spins around.
“Fuck, Mia. You scared me.” Sebastian’s eyes catch mine by the light of a street-lamp not too far away.
“What are you doing?”
“I found the office earlier, but had to get out because I thought someone was coming. Now, the door is locked,” he whispers. “I’m hoping to find a key or something I can use to get into it.”
“Let me help,” I say, moving toward the drawer to see what’s inside. I’m looking for anything. A screwdriver. Anything to help us get into Oliver’s office.
“Mia, go back to bed.”
I shake my head, wanting him to see that I can be more than the hindrance he probably thinks I am. “I want to help.”
He puts his hands on the top of my shoulders. “I know you do. And believe me, I want your help. But I don’t want you to get caught or anything bad to happen to you.”
“Let me help you.” I stare into his eyes, licking my lips. “Actually, I have an idea. Follow me.”
Sebastian follows, most likely curious as to what idea I have.
We stop in front of Oliver’s office door.
“You going to wish the door open?” Sebastian asks.
“Nope. Watch and learn.” I place a hand in my hair, pulling out a bobby pin. “Voila.”
Sebastian smiles, taking it from my hands. “You sure come in handy.”
I laugh a little, nudging Sebastian with my shoulder. “Open the door.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He picks the lock with ease, and before I know it, we’re both standing inside Oliver’s office.
I shut the door behind us, locking it so nothing looks amiss.
“There it is,” I tell Sebastian, staring at the computer.
Sebastian sits behind the large oak desk in front of a bay window. The blinds are shut, and I try to keep quiet so no one will hear anything. “Be on lookout. Just listen.”
Sebastian boots up the computer and taps away at some keys. I stand next to the door, trying my best to harness my inner Supergirl with supersonic hearing and listen carefully for any sound that shouldn’t be there.
My heart pounds loudly in my eardrums, making it nearly impossible to listen to anything going on outside of this office.
I watch as Sebastian types on the computer, frantically searching for the information that can clear his name.
I hope he finds it.
And soon.
Because I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.
I am not super-secret spy material.
Sebastian shuts off the computer. “Come here.”
I walk toward him, my heart in my throat, hoping he’s found everything he needs.
“I’ve got it,” he says, with a smile.
“You do? Where?” I search his hands, wondering if he printed a piece of paper while I wasn’t looking. Ok, I know it’s impossible because I would have heard it, but I’m wondering where this secret intel is.
