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My father comes over, wrapping me in an awkward hug. “That's great to hear, baby girl.”
I let him hug me, but I make no effort to hug him back. There is no love lost between my father, the gambler, and me, his prodigal daughter.
He turns me loose as suddenly as he hugged me, clearing his throat. Dad turns to the front door, opening it.
“Text me when you’ve talked to him. Be sweet, the way I know you can be. Just keep your sister in your thoughts. Okay?”
Narrowing my eyes on his face, I give him a long look. Dad is laying it on real thick right now, trying to make sure that I comply with his instructions.
There is a moment where I start to second guess our arrangement. What if he’s not telling me the whole truth?
But then my dad is out the door. And I’m left trying to decide whether or not I should believe him.
CHAPTERNINE
As I step out of the elevator, I shield my eyes against the glare pouring in the glass building from outside. The sun is high and the lobby is busy, bustling with hotel customers. A curvy young woman stands in the lobby. Her back is facing toward me and she wears an oversized, floppy white sun hat. But there is no mistaking her umber skin and long, dark hair. Her light pink sundress is the icing on the cake.
Ella.
She turns and spots me, removing a pair of dark sunglasses. Her glossy mouth is a bewitching slick of red. She frowns a little as I approach her.
“Ella.”
“Keir.”
God, her voice is still strained from calling my name over and over again into the early morning hours. My body responds to her voice like a siren’s song.
I jerk my head toward the front door. “I’m just on my way to meet our new friend. I think it would be best if we weren’t seen together. Don’t you?”
I make my way to the lobby door. She follows, silent. I push the door open and turn back to her.
“I think we got started on the wrong foot this morning. I thought we could talk about it. Maybe before you leave?”
I narrow my gaze on her face. “Can it wait until I pay our blackmailer off?”
Her cheeks pinker. She slides her sunglasses back on and nods. “Of course.”
Pushing outside into the unforgiving sunlight, I pinch the bridge of my nose. A part of me, the most immature part that I never listen to, is very glad to see her.
But the louder, more grown up voice in my head demands to know why the fuck she’s here. And why somewhere that she could be spotted?
It’s impossible to say. But it is hard to leave her behind and not look back as I try to focus on the task at hand. One thing at a time… I have to pay off the journalist before I can even think of whatever lovely, soft, sweet-smelling Ella has to offer.
I take a tiny flash drive from my pocket. On it are all the codes and bank numbers needed to access the ten million dollars that the journalist demanded.
I glance back, unable to help myself. Ella followed me half to the street, her expression unreadable. I motion for her to get back but she doesn’t so much as move a muscle.
Fucking stubborn girl.
I glance away and see a sleek black sedan pull up to the curb across the wide New York City street. The journalist hops out of the back on the opposite side, shading his eyes against the sun. He makes a small show of jaywalking, crossing the street in a messy zigzag pattern.
I look down for a moment, growing impatient.
And that’s when it happens. I hear the car accident before I look up. Horns blaring, tires skidding, a shouted male voice.
I glance up just as a huge black SUV collides with the journalist. The journalist is struck and his whole body becomes a rag doll, his head hitting the ground and his frail body rolling away seconds later.
Everyone that is watching freezes, unable to look away, unsure of what they should do.
