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It’s fine. I’ll handle it.
Once I find Sloan.
“On it. Hey, I’m checking in. I’ve got to go.”
“If you get something soon, call me. I’ve got another six hours before I head to London.”
“Will do,” I say, hoping that’s a promise I can keep.
Minutes later, the clerk directs me to sign an electronic pen pad, then hands me a key. “Your room is on the eighth floor. You have a great view of the city. Enjoy your stay.”
Normally, I would. I’ve been to Dallas. Good food, decent people, and the weather isn’t horrible unless it’s summer. Now I’m too ratcheted up to care. “Thanks.”
I glance at my room number, grip my luggage, and make my way toward the bank of elevators. In my hand, my phone rings. It’s Sloan. Finally.
“There you are. Talk to me,” I growl into the device.
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I got your messages. Shane is suspicious. He’s suddenly assigned me to a task force that meets tonight. He says we’re auditing some internal processes, and it’s an emergency because it’s extending random outages. I don’t know what to think…”
The fact it’s so last minute seems fishy. “Who else will be there?”
“He didn’t say. He just told me to report to the conference room near his office at five o’clock on the dot and to expect to be here until midnight.”
Jesus. Maybe I should risk breaking cover to go there and make sure she’s safe. “Sloan, I’m worried about you.”
“Honestly, I’m worried, too. But I have to believe he’s too squeamish and too lazy to be truly violent.”
I hope she’s right…but what if she isn’t?
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she murmurs into my thoughts.
“No.” She can’t leave me worrying all night. “I know it will be late. I know it’s asking a lot, but I need to see for myself that you’re safe.”
Sloan sighs. “Okay. I’ll do my best to be in the hotel bar as close to midnight as I can.”
I let out a breath. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. How will I know it’s you?”
“Oh, right. You’ve never seen me.” I hear the self-deprecation in her voice. “Well, I looked at your picture on your website, so I’ll find you. Gotta go.”
She’s gone before I can object.
Shit. Normally, I love dirty corporate games, but this is twenty kinds of clusterfuck. I need to start preparing excuses and lies now.
The rest of the evening crawls by. I text Sloan a few times. It takes her a while, but she eventually answers that she’s fine. Late in the evening, I pick at my dinner in the restaurant downstairs. About eleven, I head to the bar and order a scotch. I spot a brunette staring at me. She’s pretty. Really pretty, in fact. Normally, I’d be tempted to chat her up, buy her a drink, and persuade her to come to my room.
But all I can think about is Sloan.
At quarter before midnight, my phone buzzes. Shane and the team still can’t fix the situation. They’re pulling an all-nighter. I’m so sorry. Tomorrow?
I curse and down my scotch, slamming it on the bar before I tap back. As soon as you’re awake. You sure you’re safe?
Totally. There’s a small crowd. Shane is just being a jackass.
That’s nothing new, and hopefully he doesn’t turn into something more.
Ignoring the brunette still eyeing me, I walk away and head to my room. Her expression made it clear she’d welcome a drink and a laugh, maybe more, but Sloan seemingly ripped off my blinders. I don’t know if the brunette has a spine to go with those pretty wide eyes. And if she doesn’t, she won’t be interesting enough to hold my attention for more than an hour or two.
Or maybe it’s time to be honest with myself. I don’t want that woman because I not only came to Dallas to help Sloan stay safe and untangle her problems but to be with her—in every way she’ll let me.
