Playing You (Omega's Luck #3) - Claire Cullen Page 0,17
doesn’t mean I can’t take my time returning.”
“But what about the target?”
“He’s supposed to be the catalyst for an argument between another couple. Sounds like he’ll be pretty distracted.” He set down the script and sighed. “It’ll have to be then. No two ways about it.”
“But you still might be seen by anyone who has rooms in that wing.”
Brendan had to give it to Riley—the omega was thorough. And maybe a bit of a worrier.
“I’ve checked the script—they all have little parts to play at the party. It’s unlikely anyone will step out or head back to their rooms. You can be my eyes and ears and warn me if that happens.”
Riley frowned. “I guess I can do that. As far as I can see, the only thing I have to do at that party is pick up Mr. Gresham’s wallet when he drops it and ‘discover’ the note inside. But that’s right at the end, just before his wife ‘dies.’”
For the most part, the guests didn’t have a lot of scripted parts. The majority of the legwork was done by the paid actors who were also their hosts.
“Let’s go over our characters again.”
They were going as a couple—that had been unavoidable given the nature of the weekend. The guests were encouraged to keep to the truth as far as possible, but that wouldn’t be much help to the two of them—they were already pretending to be other people. They couldn’t turn up as the private investigator and his assistant.
Riley put down the folder he was holding. “Okay. We’re Brendan and Riley, recently engaged. You’re the owner of a stationary supply company. I was your assistant, but I left the job after you proposed.”
It was a good cover story. Boring enough that there wouldn’t be questions, and it wasn’t unusual for omegas to give up their jobs once marriage was on the table, especially among the more affluent in society.
“And the tickets for the weekend were an engagement gift from a client,” Brendan added.
It was close enough to the truth—they’d been supplied by the client he was working for, the one whose business the target was trying to poach using less than ethical means.
“We got engaged last month,” Riley continued, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You proposed at our favorite restaurant.” He glanced up with a smile. “I guess that can’t be Pickles.”
Brendan grinned ruefully. “A sandwich shop just doesn’t paint the right picture. Better go with Luigi’s. It’s in the Italian Quarter, specializes in pasta dishes. Intimate enough to be the perfect setting for a proposal, but anonymous enough that it would be hard to disprove our story. They usually have a few engagements there every month.”
“Okay. We got engaged last month at Luigi’s. It was my birthday—made it extra special. We ate pasta, drank champagne, and had tiramisu for dessert.”
Riley scribbled down the details so they could go over them later.
“We should have a how-we-met story as well,” Brendan suggested.
The omega made a face. “You hired me. Seems pretty straightforward.”
“People ask these things. They like the little intimate details—it helps us remember and lessens the chance of awkward questions. Let’s stick close to the truth—you were supposed to be interviewing elsewhere but you got off on the wrong floor. By the time we figured out the mistake, I was already smitten, and I hired you.”
Riley giggled. “Not that far from the truth.”
“Exactly. It’ll be easier to remember.”
They sat in silence for a minute, both of them reading and thinking.
“Do you drink?” Riley piped up suddenly.
“Yeah,” Brendan told him.
“What’s your poison?”
Brendan canted his head to the side, wondering where Riley was going with that.
“There’ll be alcohol there, right? What if I need to get you a drink? Or should we be teetotalers?”
He acknowledged that with a nod. “That might raise suspicions. I drink, but not often. I’ll try anything, but if it’s a choice between red and white wine, definitely the white. You?”
Riley shrugged. “Not much of a drinker. Too risky. Maybe white wine?”
Brendan winced at that. Risky because he was an omega? Did he worry that his drink might be spiked, or was he afraid of being off-balance thanks to the alcohol?
“There’ll be non-alcoholic options. Stick to those. Giggle and blush if anyone asks about it, or press a hand to your stomach and act coy. They’ll get the message.”
Riley looked endearingly embarrassed at the idea of implying he was expecting. “I… I can do that.”
It finally felt like things were coming together. They had more work to