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“Fuck!” Xavier roars unexpectedly, making me jump in surprise. “Fucking Margot?” His face is red and there’s a vein throbbing in his throat. Ana doesn’t look frightened by his outburst at all. She cups his face in her hands and leans toward him until her forehead presses sweetly against his and whispers something I can’t hear from where I’m still hovering near the door.

“Sweetpea,” Travis says to Faye who looks up at him with adoration in her green eyes, “why don’t the three of you go have lunch so Ellie isn’t late getting back to work.”

Xavier nods, rising to his feet, carefully setting Ana on hers. He bends down and carefully kisses the top of her white blonde head. They want us to go. Without waiting for my friends, I turn to go, waiting with my back turned toward their quiet goodbyes.

“He’s right sunshine,” my heart pangs at the sweet endearments that fall from the lips of both big, tough men when they talk to their woman. For a moment I hear Blake calling me angel in that sweet way of his. I miss him so much that I want to run and find him right now so I can throw myself into his arms and beg him to forgive me for being so stupid and stubborn.

“Guess we should take a hint, girls.” I glance back at her as she laughs and starts toward the door. She pauses a moment, gazing at her husband and something passes silently between them before she firmly fixes her smile in place and leads us back down the hall and out to the waiting elevator.

Chapter Twenty-One

Blake

Waiting two days until the next time Margot is scheduled has been an agony for Ana and Xavier. It’s been even worse for me. At least I think so. I’ve been busy arranging additional security and reviewing video footage since X is certain that the man that Ellie saw was his uncle Dominic. I haven’t found anything, so I’m sure he’s getting in at Luminoso’s weak point. Housekeeping. It also means that Ellie has continued to avoid me, and I haven’t been able to break free of my obligations long enough to track her down at work, or to show up on her doorstep. She hasn’t answered calls or returned my texts either. I’m half mad with the need to insist that she explain why she has so thoroughly shut me out since that morning in the parking garage.

Today’s the day. I know that Ana is having lunch with Ellie and Faye again, so she is out of the penthouse leaving Margot alone in the residence. What happens next will determine how we will proceed, and it can’t be over fast enough for me. Never in my life have I begrudged a job, but right now this one is keeping me from the only thing, the only person, that has ever been more important to me than work.

Xavier quickly logs into the secure video feed that I set up for him in his business office as Travis and I move to fill the space behind his big desk to watch the screen. It isn’t long until the camera in the living room picks up the door opening, admitting Margot and her small, lightweight cart. Thinking about Ellie struggling with a much larger one daily sets my teeth on edge as she easily pushes it inside.

Margot bustles about the already tidy penthouse, wiping down surfaces and fluffing pillows before lowering herself gingerly onto the leather couch in the living room. Her hand slips into her apron pocket removing her phone and swiping the screen open. She stares at it for a long moment, possibly reading something, a stricken look on her face.

“Is she crying?” I break the silence in the room.

“Maybe,” Xavier responds gruffly, his gaze narrowed on the woman on the screen.

“I can’t tell either,” Travis’ words are more thoughtful. His attention as focused as mine and X’s.

Intense silence falls back over the room as we sit and observe Margot texting for a while before she painstakingly rises to her feet and smooths her hands down the front of her uniform dress brushing out nonexistent wrinkles before lifting a small basket from her cart and treading slowly down the hall and stopping outside the office door. The camera angle isn’t great, but I see her shoulders lift and drop in a sigh before she reaches out and opens it.

Reaching past X for the keyboard, I tap the keys to change cameras so we can watch as she enters the room and walks straight to Xavier’s office chair and drops to her knees beside it. As we watch she takes the small device out from under it to remove the memory card and replace it with a new one from her basket. Replacing it, she hurries from the room and down the hall to the master bedroom where we watch as she repeats the process. I’m glad we put them back.

The whole thing only takes a couple of minutes before she’s back in the living room, gathering her supplies. She stops at the door to look around her. Her thin face is tight as she says something to the empty space. Our feed is only video so I can’t tell what, but I’d like to know because she looks upset. Not the expression that I would expect on someone spying.

“Well, at least we for sure know who,” I say.

Xavier’s voice is strained with anger and betrayal when he responds, “Now I just want to know why.”

“There’s something going on with her,” Travis rumbles from the wingback chair he’s taken a seat in, laptop on his knees while he reviews the footage we just watched. “She isn’t acting like someone who wants to be doing what she is.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Let’s bring her in and find out what is going on with her,” Xavier growls, anger in his voice.

“I’ll go,” I offer, hoping that I will run into Ellie while rounding up Ms. Smith. I haven’t had a chance to try to find her and I’m not about to waste the opportunity.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time lurking around housekeeping lately,” Travis jokes. “Nice to have a real reason to go this time.”

I know he’s just giving me shit, but my middle finger comes up automatically in response as I exit the door. Xavier’s laughter follows me into the hall as I close the door behind me and go in the direction of housekeeping looking for two women. For two entirely different reasons.

I find Margot first. That’s just the way things have been going since that morning in the parking garage. She’s right where I expected her to be, in the humid heart of the casino. She’s alone, folding plush towels and carefully piling them into laundry baskets. Her usually rigid posture and pinched expression are gone and in their place are worry lines and sagging shoulders.

She looks up from her task when she hears my feet on the concrete floor.

“Elinor is upstairs,” she offers with a tiny lift of the corner of her mouth. It’s the first time that she’s given me even a hint of a smile and again I wonder what is going on that has her spying on Xavier. She doesn?

??t seem the type.

“I’m not here for Elinor, Ms. Smith.” I’m careful to keep my voice gentle.

She nods once, folding the towel in her hands and setting it on the stack with a pat. “I understand.”

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