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The same waiter who dropped the tray waits as the women finish their conversation. He clears his throat. “Ms. Barron, I was asked to give you this.” He hands her a blue envelope.
“Thanks.”
She tears the edge, pulling out the note card. She hands me the note with her deep purple painted fingernails.
I hold her with one hand while reading the note with the other. Lennox reaches for her hand but she stays glued to me.
When love is deep but denied
And aching hearts try to hide.
Embrace the risk. Don’t delay—
Or there won’t be another day.
Maverick scowls at the young man.
“Who gave you this?” The kid is so scared he may jump out of his skin. I fist a handful of the waiter’s black shirt and repeat, “Who gave you this? What did he look like?”
“Umm… he was… ummm, he was wearing all black.” He lifts his shoulders.
Frustrated, I dropped my hold on his shirt. “Height? Hair and eye color? Distinguishable marks, moles, characteristics?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Not that I can think of. My concentration was on the tray of food, so I didn’t really look at him,” he says.
Maverick jerks him out of his grasp. “Mav, take care of our girls.” I look over the balcony, and as I thought, the motorcycle is long gone. “I’m going down. Stay here.”
Each and every employee is questioned. The hostess says, “I saw him for a few seconds. He had a tattoo circling his wrist, but otherwise, he was covered from head to toe. A bandana over his hair and sunglasses on. I didn’t think too much of it because it wasn’t quite sunset.”
Tucker shows me the security footage, and there he is. This is an old system, and the film is grainy, making it hard to discern any important features. Pushing my thumb drive into the computer, I download the footage. I’ll clean it up when I get to my house.
Me:Date night’s over.
Maverick:I’ll walk the ladies down.
A heightened sense of danger courses through my veins, and I’m hyper aware of each person’s facial expressions and body language. Lennox hasn’t seemed bothered by either note, and he’s been physically present for both deliveries—a fact that continues to nag at me.
“You aren’t letting him ruin our date, are you?” he asks, as he jerks on her arm.
No one touches my girl like they control her. God knows I never had much luck controlling her. I stalk toward him, folding my arms across my chest. “She’s not your date. Vanessa is a business partner so keep your hands off her before I rip your arms out of their sockets.”
“You don’t make decisions for her. You do understand you’re just her bodyguard, right?” Lennox practically spits, keeping his grip around her forearm before slinging it away.
Our friends watch the imaginary tennis ball going back and forth between us. He’s right. I am only her bodyguard, and I have no right to tell him where he can place his hands but fuck.
Fear of her choosing him ripples through every nerve I have.
Vanessa looks at him with her green eyes and suggests, “Rome, things are complicated right now. We should focus on business for now.”
He clenches his fists by his sides, and it takes a New York minute for him to regain control of his rage.
You have got to be kidding. Surely she wouldn’t date this pretender—a man that needs prestige and power to feel like a man.
Jessie and Vanessa hug each other before we walk away in different directions. We’re parked on the street and they’re in the public lot.
I turn and shout, “Maverick, keep your eyes out! Let me know if you come across anything suspicious.”
“I will, man.”
