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“Why?” she asks, her mask slipping back into place.
“He betrayed me. I don’t take betrayal well. If there had been a way to let him live, I would have. Because I also don’t enjoy killing.”
It’s the truth, although Donovan isn’t the first man I’ve killed and likely won’t be the last. His death keeps me up at night.
I much prefer to study people and make them useful to me. Killing them rarely helps anyone and is almost always messier than intended, nevertheless, it’s sometimes necessary.
The flight attendant asks if we want drinks. Zara smiles. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”
“And I’ll have a whiskey.”
The woman disappears to fetch our drinks and I return to watching Zara again.
“What time will we get to Las Vegas?”
I look at my watch and do the math. “Just before six.”
“Great. I can get almost a full cycle of sleep before we land.”
I frown. “Sleep will come later. I’ve got questions.”
“And they can wait. You should get some sleep too. I’m sure you’ll have to hit the ground running when we arrive.”
I don’t like admitting that she’s right. When the attendant returns with our drinks, I hold mine up to her.
“Cheers to the week ahead.”
She gives me that coy smile—the one she’s probably gotten rich off of—and takes a small sip of her drink.
“Ask your questions. But when I’m done with my drink I’m going to sleep.”
She knows how to set boundaries. Probably vital in her line of work. So, I set my drink aside and nodded. “Fair. Tell me more about your initial conversation with my cousin. Did you make contact first, or did he?”
She dropped her gaze for half a second too long.
“I was given the name of a friend of his and I called them to ask for a blind date arrangement. It’s rare for me to do that, but the person who referred me insisted. And no. I’m still not telling you who it was.”
I’d already decided I wouldn’t push that question unless I had to.
“And what did you say to Oliver when you contacted him?”
She takes another long sip.
“It was a coffee meet up. We talked and decided I would be a good fit for this party. I don’t know that your cousin actually intended for me to stay the night with him. He thought it was odd that I wanted to drop my overnight bag in his room before we left for the club. But I was being paid enough that I would have stayed if he asked.”
She drained her glass and pulled the wireless headphones out of their case.
“Use the bedroom,” I say. “Somehow I doubt I’m going to sleep, so someone might as well get some decent rest.”
She eyes me carefully. “You sure?”
I nod. “Positive. I have calls to make. I’ll even stay out of there.”
“Of course you will. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have sex with all my clients. I get to say no to anyone, even if they’ve paid me. They’re paying for my company, not my body.”
I’ve heard that about escorts before, but it’s hard to know how true that is. I believe her, though, and I’m a bastard because I want to make it my mission for her to decide she wants to have sex with me.
But I jerk my head toward the bedroom. “Get some sleep. We’re going to have a long day tomorrow.”
