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“This is my treat.” Miles smiled thinly. His father’s death a year earlier hadn’t come as a shock—the former senator had lived hard, partied harder, even into his seventh decade and nobody who knew him would be surprised that he’d collapsed by the bed just as after rolling in the sheets with one of his three mistresses. His wife, dead for nearly twenty years, had left a substantial family fortune to her two surviving family members—her husband, and her son, Miles.
His father had been a genius with money and after his death, aside from a few charitable bequests, Miles had inherited everything.
Thathad come as a shock.
Miles had been estranged from his father for most of his adult life and he didn’t regret not spending any time with the corrupt, cold-hearted bastard.
But that his father had left the estate to him? Yeah, he’d been surprised.
Most of the money was still sitting in the bank, collecting dust and interest but he could take the boy who’d become his protegee out for a nice meal and not expense it to his work account.
Just like he’d arranged for the funds—and the security—that had Isabel Steele, now known to the world as Bella Franklin, staying at this same hotel, private security backing up the US Marshals who’d been assigned to protect her while she was in town to testify against her father.
The marshals hadn’t liked hearing there was an outside team on the job.
It wasn’t...policy, but Miles didn’t give a shit. He’d informed both the marshals and his superiors he hadn’t liked that information about Isabel’s location and last alias had been leaked the last time she was in town, and the outside team wasn’t going anywhere.
Currently, Tina Winslow, the second-in-command of that private team, was on watch and had just updated him with the news therewasno news. Isabel was in her room. Everything was quiet. Miles had texted the young woman with an invitation to join him in the lobby twice already, with the second barely fifteen minutes earlier.
So far, they’d both gone ignored.
He wasn’t ready to give up yet.
When his phone vibrated with a text notification a few minutes later, he ignored the text—it was a woman he’d met through a friend, asking him if he was interested in drinks. He’d liked her, thus the reason for ignoring any and all overtures. He fucked up every relationship he’d had and with his life in the shape it was now, it was only going to get worse. He did, however, take the time to send Isabel a third text—and a subtle warning.
Miles: I’m at the hotel. You might as well come down and talk to me or I’ll come up. You know I’m as stubborn as you are. I just want to see how you are doing.
Then he tucked the phone away and gave Travis an easy smile. “Sorry. Never off the clock in this job.”
The look Travis gave him told him he saw clear through the bullshit.
The bartender came by, a smile on her pretty face. Her wide brown eyes warmed as they landed on Travis, lingered in appreciation which he completely ignored.
“Another round for you gentlemen?” she asked, her voice husky.
Before Travis could answer, Miles said, “Yes, please.”
Travis breathed out a heavy sigh and rubbed his neck as she moved away to start on the order. “You know, I had maybe four hours of sleep the night before last—and that was after crossing several time zones. I had to get up for a debriefing at the crack of dawn yesterday, spent most of the day closed up in offices the size of a postage stamp wearing a fucking suit and tie, crashed at a shitty hotel with an even shittier bed, got up and had to do it all over again.Andin a suit and tie, no less.” He yanked at said tie in disgust and gave Miles an irritated look. “When you told me you were going to spring me and give me a bit of a break, I didn’t think I was going to have to spend a few more hours in this miserable suit, at a bar eating peanuts while you keep staring past my shoulder at the elevator.”
Miles went to speak, but Travis wasn’t done. Leaning in closer, he said in a low voice, “Who the fuck are we waiting on and why the fuck is there security crawling all over the place?”
His phone buzzed with another alert, but under the sharp attention of his protégé, he didn’t dare check the screen. Instead, he studied Travis with narrowed eyes.
Travis rolled his. “You think I didn’t notice? Five guys—okay, to be correct, four guys, one woman. She’s probably private, knows how to blend better. The guy with her, also private. The other three are feds. I’m sure I’m missing somebody since nobody is going to put that much security in one area.”
“Three more on the ground floor,” Miles said. “And a couple more ... elsewhere. You’re getting better. You were already good.”
“I’m also not distracted. Who the fuck are we waiting on?”
Miles blew out a breath. “I should have known you’d realize something was going on.”
“Yeah, now why don’t ... ” He lapsed into silence as the blonde bartender approached a warm smile on her face and two drinks in hand.
As she set them down, Miles checked his phone, saw the text from Tina. It was via his regular texting app, but coded, in a manner of speaking, so you’d have to be aware of the situation to understand.
It simply read,incoming.
He took a breath and glanced up just in time to see the bartender place a napkin in front of Travis with exaggerated care. Her lips curved in a smile as she gave the napkin a tap it with a red-slicked fingernail. “Let me know when you need anything else.”
