On the Line [Run Cold Book Two]

8: Location, Location

Pretending she was tired, Becky locked herself in the guest room after dinner. Later, on my way upstairs in search of spare paper towels, I thumped my feet extra hard to give her sniffles a chance to quiet before I passed. We both knew she wouldn't sleep, but it was a lie we were comfortable believing.

Einar and I cleaned the kitchen, thawed a pound of bacon, then zipped to a convenience store for a dozen eggs and English muffins. After Becky picked a few pepperonis off a slice and called it a meal, I was determined to get a hearty breakfast into her.

Easier said than done, but come noon she'd eaten twice and we'd gone to a professional to turn her hair into a proper pixie cut. Einar kept himself busy reading background reports on Becky's mother that he'd obtained from God-knew-where, and left Becky and I to retreat upstairs to get dressed and plan.

While she arguably had more experience, it made sense for me to cuff Einar. He was my bodyguard and probably wouldn't punch his employer in the process. That, and her best idea was going WWE on him and knocking him out with a folding chair from the storage closet.

Restraints hidden in my strapped clutch, I tossed loose blonde curls to one side, bared my throat, and worked on adequately concealing my hickey. Touching a powder brush against the spot rushed warm feelings into my cheeks. I almost left it intact, especially since I'd rather show that than the scars on my collar bone and shoulder. But tonight was about appearances and information. Looking approachable was a must.

Taking her own advice, Becky forced herself to retreat to her post-Darcy days and dressed to impress, but I was most impressed with how she held herself in the face of a crushing situation.

Her apartment currently inaccessible, she borrowed a pair of tight jeans and wore an olive corset tank and matching boots she'd purchased after forensics entered her clothes into evidence. Absent her usual flowing hairstyles and flirty dresses, she still carried herself with exquisite confidence. That sort of poise, it never leaves, whether the lioness beneath the mascara and rosy cheeks suffered one thorn in her paw or a hundred.

Black tights set off my cinched-waist dress, the old charcoal classic, and a pair of calf-high, slouchy leather boots completed the look. A quick brush through my hair brought my game up to Casually Tousled. Not half bad, for my first night on the town in centuries. It was too bad the occasion wasn't happier.

"Ready?" I asked, tugging the strapless ensemble higher on my chest. Years and excessive use had worn down the elasticity of my department store dress, something I hadn't noticed until palace designers spoiled me with clothes fitted to my frame. Still, I felt more comfortable tonight than I ever had in any of those pricey gowns.

Becky draped herself across the side of the tub, shoulders pressed into the tiled backsplash, counting the beads on her bracelet for the fourth time.

"Yeah."

Einar's eyebrows rose as we thudded and giggled downstairs like a pair of conspiring elephants. He'd reclined in Mom's chair, where the nearest cuffable object was a standing lamp. Lucky for me, upon seeing our attire he dropped his paperwork and stood.

"Dad made a reservation for us at his restaurant," I announced. Becky coolly slunk to the door, adjusting her hair in the hall mirror. I gripped the clutch tight, suddenly as nervous as that time in high school where Josh picked me up on his motorcycle for a dance. My parents had thought we were attending a track team dinner until he'd rung the bell all spiky haired and sultry-eyed. "Can we go alone?"

Might as well offer him a chance.

Dark eyes narrowed, a concentrated storm. "Now?"

I flipped my hand on my hip to hide crossed fingers. Please say yes. "Didn't you hear me yell like half an hour ago? They open for dinner at four but we can go early to grab some food and take leftovers for Darcy's family if they're hungry after visiting the hospital. You don't have to come. We'll be an hour, tops. Just tell me how you want your filet cooked."