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He groans. “Stop it, all right? We’re going to be with your family, your parents. Let’s do a crossword.” He twists and leans into the back, pullingThe Washington Postout of his battered rucksack.
He doescrosswords? “A crossword?”
“Yeah. Don’t you like them? Perfect for relaxing and taking your mind off things. Tricky bastards, though.”
“You might have more in common with my family than I thought,” I mutter, switching on the wipers as a light rain starts to patter across the windscreen.
“Why’s that?”
“They are big crossword doers, too.”
“Finally, some good news,” he mutters, rifling through his bag again and pulling out a pen.
“Why?”
“Well, I can’t really talk about drugs or hacking, so it will give me a topic of conversation.”
He pauses for a minute as he searches through the paper on his lap, folding it open when he finds the right place.
“By the way, Kate, we’ve talked about your family and what the form is for this wedding, but don’t tell them I’m a hacker. Tell them I’m a software engineer, programmer, electronics … whatever. I don’t normally tell people what I do for a living.”
“Why’s that?”
He shrugs. “Too many questions, too many assumptions about it all being illegal. The fewer people who know, the less exposed I am.”
“It’s that dangerous?”
He stares over at me. “I try not to do the data people would kill for or kill to protect, but you don’t do this and not come to the attention of people you’d rather not be on the radar for. I can handle myself; I just don’t want anyone I know to be sucked into something they shouldn’t be. I’m just being cautious.”
He’s such an incredible combination of risk-taking and common sense.
“Anyway,” he adds, taking a deep breath and looking down atThe Postagain. “We’d better get a move on: We’ve got a crossword to do, and I’m sure you’ve got more stuff to brief me on before we arrive.”
Two hours later, we pass by ornate entrance pillars into the middle of a large turning circle graced by a fountain. Gravel crunches under our tires. Fabian lets out a low whistle at the cream Italianate building with a beautiful wrought-iron porch. Yeah, the Wheatleigh is just the type of place I imagined Javier having his wedding. We leave the car with the valet and head up the steps to the entrance, the roar and clink of the pre-wedding party drifting out through the front doors.
Fabian’s face is a mask, and through the lobby and plush velvet seating, I can see people milling around under a pavilion out back. A lady sweeps across the floor and trots upstairs in a long turquoise gown. A hotel employee steps forward with a small bow, and a taut expression creeps over Fabian’s face, so I reach out and squeeze his arm.
He glances at me and winks. “Good job I brought a clean T-shirt,” he leans in to murmur in my ear as I give the woman our details. I’ve no idea what my parents have arranged for us, but when she hands over the keys, I stare down at the single set of room keys and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I bought a tux for tomorrow, Kate, but I didn’t bring much else,” Fabian says, peering at the throng outside the double doors. “This looks pretty smart to me.”
“I’m not sure where this desire to conform is suddenly coming from,” I say.
His eyes are shuttered as he looks at me. “I just don’t want to embarrass anyone.”
Oh God! “When you said yes to this, I was relieved. I didn’t think about how it might make you feel. I’m sorry.”Stupid, Kate.
Fabian undoes his man bun and ties it up again with a frown. Out through the open French windows, a man in a pinstriped shirt with his back to us wraps his arm around the shoulders of the suited guy next to him, laughing loudly.
“I’m always the troublemaker, Kate, even when I’m not trying to be. You don’t have to apologize for it.”
I squeeze his elbow. “Every woman will be envious of me this evening. You’ll be the only person here who doesn’t look like a banker clone.”
He laughs at this.
I catch the profile of the man in the shirt through the French windows.Javier. He looks just as obnoxious as I remember. As we watch, his other hand lands on the back of the dark-haired woman next to him and slides down over her ass, squeezing.
Is that Cassandra?I clear my throat. “I need to go and shower and change. I smell of hospital antiseptic,” I say. Fabian nods, and I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, you always look great.”
