Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,58

there and watch the numbers light up as the elevator car ascends. I assume he’s headed to the bar on the roof, but the elevator stops on the sixteenth floor. After a lingering pause there, it returns to the lobby. Empty.

Naturally I hop in and press the button for sixteen. Because that’s what a needy, suspicious, half-insane pie baker does.

The doors slide closed, and the car begins to travel upward. Gunnar has some explaining to do.

18

Gunnar

It’s quiet on the sixteenth floor, where all the best suites are located. I’m loitering in an alcove near the service elevator, trying to impersonate a bored husband waiting for his wife to emerge for their night out.

A few yards away, Scout pushes a housekeeping cart toward the largest suite in the hotel. We don’t make eye contact.

I’m here to guard Scout from two threats: the first is the hotel security staff. Scout is impersonating a housekeeper and breaking into a suite. Hopefully whomever is manning the security cameras right now is too lazy to squint at the video feed and ID her as a stranger.

The second threat is the ruthless international criminal Xian Smith. Not only do we know he’s involved in a ring of industrial espionage, we also suspect he ordered a hit on a Thai manufacturer of motherboards this past fall. He’s a dangerous man who has killed to get what he wants.

Tonight, though, Xian Smith is attending the Met Gala. Max watched him get into a limo just before Duff, Scout, and I converged on the hotel.

“Scout’s in,” Max murmurs into my earpiece. He’s watching Scout’s body cam from a van parked across the street. He can also see the elevators and the hallway, thanks to the stick-on cameras that Scout and I deployed on our way up here.

There’s nothing to do right now but wait. So I do my best impression of a bored guy. I take out my phone and pretend to flip through my messages.

Inside the hotel suite, Scout can’t just grab the camera that Max planted there and run. Smith probably has his own spyware set up in that room. So Scout has to spend a moment or two changing the towels and plumping the pillows. When Xian Smith realizes his room has been entered, we want him to think it was a routine evening turndown service.

“Fuck,” Max breathes into my ear. “What is Posy Paxton doing here?”

“What?” I whisper into my watch. “Where?”

“Sixteenth floor. She just emerged from the elevator and turned down the hall. Away from you.”

“Fuck,” I curse.

“She followed you here?” Max guesses.

“No idea.” Why would she, though? “Should I go get her?”

“Stay put,” Max says. “If she makes it all the way down to you, then you can grab her.”

That sounds simple enough, but I’m no longer as relaxed as I was a few minutes ago. If Posy makes a scene, and hotel security comes running …

“Jesus Christ,” Max breathes. “He’s back. Xian Smith is in the elevator. Don’t move.”

Now I know what it means when people say I went cold inside. Even as I tap a button on my watch that lets Max know I understand, I feel an icy chill slide down my body. Scout, Xian Smith, and Posy are all about to converge on the sixteenth floor?

Disaster.

“Fuck!” Max barks. “He made the elevator cam. It’s gone dark. Scout, get out of there.”

My heart drops. And then it drops again when Max keeps talking.

“Gunnar, stand by to grab Posy. She’s coming back in your direction. And—mother of God.”

All my blood stops circulating when I hear Posy’s voice. “Excuse me. Have you seen a guy in a tuxedo pass this way?”

“Lo siento. No hablo Inglés,” Scout replies. I don’t speak English.

I reach out and ring for the service elevator, trying to do the math on how to get both women onto it in the next five seconds.

But it’s already too late. All my blood stops circulating when I hear Smith say, “Step away from my room. No staff is allowed in there.”

“Stay put, Gunn,” Max whispers harshly. “Let Scout try to talk her way out of there.”

“No hablo Inglés,” Scout repeats. “Quieres hablar con el jefe?” Do you want to speak to the manager?

“Fuck you,” Smith says in an ice-cold voice. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull.” There’s a loud crash, and then Posy screams.

In a flash I’m in that hallway, my eyes locked on Posy. She’s standing there with her hands over her mouth, in the classic posture of