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She sees the missed calls and sits up with a frown, tugging the sheets up to cover her breasts despite my sigh of protest. She calls her mother back, anxious as she waits, eyeing me almost shyly.
Which is amusing. After the things we did to each other last night, we'refarpast being shy.
"Hey! I know. Sorry. Look, I really am sorry," she says into the phone, rubbing her face. "Well, uh, there was a thing at work, and then I went out…celebrating with a coworker," she says carefully.
I almost laugh at how she's bending the truth, and Loren shoos me away as she gets out of bed and begins dressing. I sit back and enjoy the show. This is ordinarily the time I enter the casino early to get started on things or when I check in on Caputo business in other places of Vegas.
But being late one morning won't kill my productivity.
She's nearly dressed when she bolts upright, the panic on her face making me tense as well. "What? God, Mom, why didn't you tell me this last night? No—I know you didn't want to worry me, and I appreciate it, but…fuck, how high is her fever?"
Her voice is panicked, and she's rushing now, nearly ready to bolt out the door. I'm on my feet, dressing quickly to take her wherever she needs to be. Concern tugs at me while I listen to her conversation.
"Okay. Okay, I'll be right there. I'll call the ped—"Loren glances at me. "Don't worry, I'll call the doctor. No, don't do that. I'm coming right home."
She hangs up and wrings her hands as she looks at me with borderline pleading. "I need to be late today. To work, I mean. I'm sorry, but—there's this friend of mine, and she's sick, and—"
She's frantic. I hate seeing that, and I quickly capture her hands to calm the way she's about to wring the life out of them. I kiss her lips lightly and finish dressing, grabbing her purse and my keys and taking her hand to pull her out of the hotel. If she's this worked up, we're not sticking around another moment. I can check out later.
I drive straight to her apartment, and Loren's knee bounces with nerves the entire time. Despite the wonderful night together, she has an unhappy set to her plump lips. Dozens of questions are trying to force their way out of me, but I keep myself from prying.
Is she truly so frantic over the fever of a friend? I find that unlikely, but I have no other guesses and doubt she would answer any questions I might pose.
When I pull up to the sorry apartments, Loren thanks me profusely and pauses momentarily in the passenger seat to consider me, worrying her lip.
"About last night…it was just a celebration, you know? A big breakthrough at work. I think we both needed it, and we're adults, and we can go back to just being an employed ex-hacker and her stoic mafioso boss, right?"
She's not wrong about me needing last night. I don't want to say that I'm already becoming addicted to the idea of doing all of that again, so I just nod.
"I'll be in at work later, I promise. I just—"
"Take the day off."
Loren hesitates. But she doesn't argue before thanking me and closing the door after herself. She doesn't even duck into the mail room—she goes right to her apartment number and slips inside, making my concern spike only more.
She's such a cautious type. While we've undoubtedly grown closer since she showed back up in my life, my little cherry blossom hacker wouldn't just give away her home like that without the matter truly being pressing.
A car pulls up to park beside mine, and I don't need more than a glance from my peripheral vision before rolling down my window.
"Well. I know what you did last night," Big Luck chuckles. "And by what, I mean who. And by who, I mean the fucking hacker. Is this why you wanted protection placed on her? You've got a fling going on?"
I give him a look that makes his teasing grin disappear. "At least you're here," I sigh, looking at the apartment door again. "It tells me you're doing your job keeping an eye on her. Has she noticed?"
"Nope."
"Good. Keep watching her. She's worried sick about someone with a fever, and I want to know who and why."
Big Luck grunts. "It's probably her kid."
Kid?
"What?"
"Her kid. Loren has a kid," he shrugs. Then he frowns at me. "You didn't know? See, this is why you shouldn't go sleeping around with slot-hacking women without doing a little digging first, Boss. You never know what you're getting yourself into if—"
"Luck," I mutter, thoughts cascading as I stare at the door.
"Yeah?"
