Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,49

let’s face it, was the only reason I usually went to these things with him. Not only did I get to stare at him in it all evening, but since our marriage had turned from a convenient sham into at-it-like-rabbits, I also got to peel him out of it at the end of the night. Bradley had booked us a hotel room nearby, thank goodness. Otherwise the cab driver might have got an eyeful.

“What’s the plan, boss?” I asked. “Do you want me in full vapid-blonde mode tonight?”

“I think so, yes.” Black cracked a rare smile. “You certainly look the part.”

I threw a tube of mascara at him, but the asshole caught it.

“Ah, you want me to go as a drag queen?”

“Shut up, Chuck.”

The O Club could have been any mid-budget hotel the world over—slightly tired decor, harried waitstaff rushing around, and an unimaginative menu created with a nod to profit margins rather than gourmet dining. The white tablecloth had a tiny hole in front of my place card, and my wine glass had a chipped rim.

But we were seated just one table away from Eric Ridley.

He was angled side-on to me, his uniform now a little tight across the stomach, and since he kept turning away to talk to the brunette on his right—he hadn’t brought a date of his own, she was somebody else’s—that gave me plenty of time to check him out unobserved. He’d changed his hairstyle since I saw him last. Tonight, the top was slicked back, the sides shaved. But paying a visit to the barber didn’t make up for his tendency to slouch. Every so often, he’d catch himself and straighten. Puff his chest out. He also liked the sound of his own voice. The others at his table struggled to get a word in edgeways, and I caught a couple of eye-rolls during a particularly long anecdote. Which fitted with Black’s assessment that Ridley lacked self-awareness and thought the lieutenant’s stripes he wore on his shoulders elevated him to demigod status.

I’d had a fair bit of practice at this shite, so I still managed to make small talk and eat as well as conducting surveillance. Also at our table of ten was another Blackwood guy, a former enlisted man who Black had recruited into our Boston office a few years after he and Nate started the company. Black did that a lot—snaffled up the good guys he met along the way—which meant our team was built on a solid foundation.

I went easy on the wine, watching, waiting for my chance. It finally came between dessert and the start of the charity auction when Ridley pushed his chair back and strode off in the direction of the bathrooms. The relief from his dining companions was palpable.

“Be right back,” I whispered to Black, picking up the oversized handbag Bradley had sent for the occasion. Black caught my hand and kissed my knuckles, and the lady opposite swooned a bit. I couldn’t blame her.

A moment later, I slid into Ridley’s vacant seat and smiled at the brunette.

“Hi, I was just wondering where you got your necklace? It’s really eye-catching.” In a gaudy, plasticky sort of way. I lowered my voice a touch. “Plus I wanted to escape yet another conversation about ships’ innards.”

“You like it?” She sounded faintly surprised. “It was a gift from my husband.” Ah, so she was wearing it under duress. “Honey, where did you buy my necklace?”

A faint look of panic crossed the man’s face, which was made all the more amusing by the captain’s stripes he wore.

“Uh, from the internet.”

“Which site?” she asked. “This lady wants to buy one.”

“I don’t remember. There was an ad.”

The brunette rolled her eyes. Men.

“Sorry,” she told me.

“No problem.” I picked up Ridley’s three-quarters-full wine glass as if it were my own, careful to hold it by the very bottom of the stem as I took a sip. Ridley had wrapped his fingers around the bowl each time he drank. I’d been watching him. And at one point, he’d swapped the glass into his other hand while he accepted a business card from the guy opposite. “Nice to meet you, anyway. Do you happen to know where the bathrooms are?”

She pointed me in the right direction, which I already knew. Ridley passed me on the way, and I couldn’t resist holding up his glass in an imaginary toast.

“Great evening, huh?”

“Sure is,” he said automatically, then his gaze rose from my cleavage to my face, and he