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I spend the next thirty-six hours stalking the damn front doors like I'm the security guard, waiting for her next shift. Her boss refuses to tell me her schedule. I even try to bribe a housekeeper. No one is buying what I'm selling.
It seems I shot my own damn self in the foot. My reputation as a difficult guest precedes me. No one wants to tell me shit about my girl. It's infuriating. For an ordinarily patient man, I find I have absolutely none now.
Razor thinks the whole situation is hysterical. I'm almost positive the asshole could help me out and tell me where she lives, but he won't. He's enjoying my misery.
At least our baby sister takes pity on me. On the second day of my stakeout, she brings me dinner.
"You're my favorite sibling," I murmur, hugging the shit out of her.
"I know." She beams at me, humor dancing in her eyes. "Please make sure you tell Razor that every day for the next fifty years."
"Done."
She glances around the lobby, her nose wrinkling. There’s nothing wrong with the place. It’s neat and tidy, and very well-appointed. She’s just mad I’m not staying with her. "I still don't know why you wanted to stay here instead of with us."
I give her a look that makes her fidget. "You know exactly why I'm not staying with you and that fucker," I growl.
"He has a name, you know."
"Not when we're talking about the horrible shit I can never unhear, he doesn't."
Jules rolls her eyes. "You're so dramatic. It wasn't even that bad. It was completely normal."
"There is nothing normal about hearing your sister... You know what? We're not talking about this," I mutter, scowling. "It's giving me flashbacks."
Jules laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. "I have to go, anyway. Dillon has the girls. I just wanted to bring you food since you're being crazy. Hurry up and win your girl. I miss you."
I pull her in for a hug, squeezing the shit out of her. "I miss you, too, baby sister."
"I love you."
"Love you more."
"Lies," she says, beaming at me. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "Good luck."
"Go straight home."
"Don't be so bossy."
"Straight home, Jules."
She sticks her tongue out at me and then bounces out the door, a lightness in her steps that's damn good to see. Dillon is good for her. Her job is one of the toughest in the world, but he keeps her smiling.
"You can't eat that down here. "
I look up from the stack of dishes to find the brunette at the desk scowling at me. Amelia, I think.
"Take it to your room." She sends me another dirty glare and then goes back to the computer, only to immediately pop her head back up. "I don't know what game you think you're playing, but leave Francesca out of it."
"Excuse me?"
"She needs this job to pay for school. She doesn't need you kissing her one day, and then bringing other women here two days later. If that's what you're about, leave her out of it and find someone else to play games with."
"Other women…" I laugh abruptly, which only irritates Amelia more. I don’t mind, though. I appreciate that she's looking out for my girl, even if she does have it all wrong.
"Jules isn't another woman, Amelia," I say quietly. "She's my baby sister. She brought me dinner because I've spent the last two damn days stalking the lobby, waiting for Francesca."
"Oh." Amelia smiles sheepishly. "Um, oops?"
