Infinityglass (7 page)

What I didn’t understand was how a job as a faux security guard had scored me a place in a swank apartment building like this one.

The lobby was just as impressive, black-and-white-tiled floors, tasteful art, chandeliers that sparkled, and a doorman in a uniform. I walked past him to the manager’s office and found a college-aged girl sitting behind a receptionist desk. “I’m Dune Ta’ala. I’m looking for Jodi.”

“That’s me,” she said brightly, giving me the once-over. “Welcome. Here’s your new resident information. The key card
inside will get you to your floor. At some point, I’ll need to make a copy of your driver’s license, but go ahead and get settled first.”

“Thanks.” I took the envelope from her hand, barely brushing her fingers with mine. Her face flushed pink.

“I’ll be happy to take you up if you’d like.”

“I think I can handle it.” I smiled at her. Thought about asking for her number. Probably not a good idea to get involved with someone who had access to your apartment and could see you entering and leaving your building. Or to get involved with anyone at all, considering I came to New Orleans with a job to do.

“Nice to meet you, Jodi.”

“Nice to meet you back.” She giggled a little, and then bit her lip as she forced composure. “The elevator is to your right. The key card inside will—wait. I already said that.”

“No worries,” I said, flashing another smile. “Important information bears repeating.”

“In that case, my name is Jodi. And I’m here Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons.”

“Duly noted.”

I left the office, feeling her eyes on me as I went. I entered the elevator, pushed the button for the fourth floor, and put the flirting out of my mind. I stepped out of the elevator and opened the door to 4B.

The apartment wasn’t empty.

“What the hell …”

“Come on in.” Poe Sharpe sat on the couch. “Pardon me if I don’t get up.”

His bloodshot eyes were sunk deep in his pale face. His battered body held a liver that nearly took a nosedive and blood that had once belonged to someone else.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were still in ICU.” I dropped my suitcases beside the door.

“Me being here is part of Paul and Liam’s plan to keep me off Teague’s radar. That’s why they didn’t tell you.” The recently removed breathing tube left his voice scratchy, and fatigue made his accent heavy. “But, please, check with Liam to confirm. I would, if I were in your position.”

I didn’t want to be an asshole and jump for the phone, but I didn’t want to get stabbed in my sleep, either.

“Really, I insist. I’ll be right here. I’ve been a couch potato since I ported in. The recent skewering kind of took it out of me.”

“Liam’s getting ready to get on the plane for Nashville, so I’ll go ahead and call.” Flimsy excuse. I stepped out to the hall and dialed.

“You found Poe, I assume?” Liam asked, in lieu of saying hello.

“Maybe you could’ve warned me?” I paced back and forth. “Why is he in my apartment?”

“You’re in his. When I visited Poe in the hospital at Vanderbilt, I asked a lot of questions, and he gave a lot of answers. The right answers.”

I stopped, watching the arrows on the wall light up as the
elevators traveled from floor to floor. “I know he saved Em’s and Michael’s lives, but he’s done some pretty damn questionable things, too, Liam.”

“Here are the basics. Poe can give you details. When he helped Teague, he truly believed he was working for Chronos. She lied to him, and Jack manipulated his memories. When he discovered the truth and confronted them, Jack stabbed him. He ignored his injuries to save Em and Michael, and showed up on the front lawn of the Hourglass.”

“Okay.” An acknowledgment that I heard him, not that I understood.

“Your being in the apartment will help hide the fact he’s there, as an excuse for lights and sounds and motion. He’ll help you in any way he can, and you just have to believe me when I tell you that he’s trustworthy.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

“I need a more coherent answer than that, Dune.”

I heard the last call for the Nashville flight come over the airport loudspeaker and through the phone. “
Okay
is kind of all I’ve got at the moment.”

“They’re boarding my plane. Talk to Poe. Call me in a couple of hours if you want confirmation. All right?”

“All right.”

Liam laughed. “At least it’s not
okay
.”

I stepped back into the apartment and looked at Poe. “So … hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry to crash, and thanks for the room. I wouldn’t like recovering with someone new in my apartment.”

“I wouldn’t like moving into my new apartment and finding a roommate. You’re providing a cover for me.” Poe shrugged. “How about we’re just mutually appreciative?”

I nodded and grabbed my bags.

Poe pointed to the left. “Your room is that way.”

A light blue quilt covered the queen-sized bed. A walnut dresser stood against one wall, a matching desk on the other. I put my suitcases on the bed and wondered how much Chronos paid per job. How could one guy afford a two-bedroom in one of the nicest apartment buildings in the Garden District? Poe was nineteen, and he was living large. Really, really large.

I checked out the rest of the place. Hardwood floors linked a large living area with a kitchen. The walls were a soft yellow, and the furniture was low and modern, all in neutral colors. It smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener. The spice rack was organized alphabetically. The canisters on the counter were arranged largest to smallest. A dishcloth and towel were both folded in exact thirds.

I went back into the living area. “You either have a maid, or you’re OCD.”

“Hope that’s not a problem.”

“So not a problem.” I thrived on order. The pool house I’d been living in with Michael and Nate had been nice, but obviously
overrun by teenage boys for a few years. This place made me feel like an adult.

“Thanks for keeping me off the streets.” He readjusted his position on the couch pillows. “You interviewed with Paul today. And you start tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I’m lucky he believed me and grateful to Liam for helping Paul understand that Teague and Jack tricked me. Paul Girard isn’t the kind of guy you want on your bad side. Same goes for his daughter. And, by the way, Hallie doesn’t know I’m back. We should probably keep it that way for a little while.”

“You two were friends?”

“We still are, I hope. The hardest thing about all of this has been not being able to talk to her.”

“Why can’t you?”

“The less she knows, the safer she is. Teague has lied about everything.
Everything
. Your job is getting to the bottom of those lies, and I’ll be happy to help you, if you want it.”

I gazed down on the perfect, streetlamp-lit view of Saint Charles. The trolley whizzed by. My stomach jumped when I thought about meeting Hallie. “What’s she like?”

“Demanding. Occasionally bitchy, but she has good reasons. Just so you’re prepared, she has a way about her.”

“What kind of way?” I asked.

“Sexy.” Satisfaction ghosted across Poe’s face. “Like you’ve never seen.”

“You’re together?”

“Friends. Hallie knows what she wants and how to ask for it. How to get it. I was fun, and that was it. She manages to play, even though she’s basically trapped in that house. There was an accident a few years back. So now she goes on Chronos jobs, and she dances seriously. Otherwise, ivory tower.”

“What about school?”

“Online. College classes. She finished high school at sixteen. She’s a genius.” Poe grinned. “All I can say is good luck.”

A sneaky, sexy genius with a target on her back.

I’d need all the luck I could get.

Chapter 5
Hallie, One Week Later

“I
told you, Dad. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“As I’ve explained several thousand times, you are a minor. You live under my roof. You need what I say you need.”

“He’s creepy.”

“How?”

“He looks at me.”

“He’s your bodyguard, Hallie. What’s he supposed to look at? He’s staying. I’m your father. What I say goes, and I’m done having this conversation.”

I stepped out of Dad’s office, slammed the door behind me, and turned my anger on the unreasonably hot yet still annoying bodyguard. “You”—I pointed a finger in his face—“are a complete pain in my ass.”

He blinked and looked terrified, which was comforting, considering I was the one he was supposed to be protecting.

“Stay at least ten feet away. And stop looking at me.”

I went through bodyguards the way insolent children went through nannies. It wasn’t that I hated them personally; it was just that I didn’t have anything else to do. It usually took me under a week to sneak out, lose their tail, and get them fired. This one chapped my ass more aggressively than most, because he was
inside
my house. Outside my room. Constantly around. Always watching. I expected today to be his last.

He followed me through the courtyard into the kitchen after my morning dance class, on my heels like a puppy at dinnertime, sealing his fate. I showered and went down to the kitchen in my robe. My shortest robe. Once I finished my yogurt, I scraped the bottom of the container for the last bite. He watched me walk to the trash can, step on the pedal, and dispose of the plastic.

“Oh.” I tapped the silver spoon against my bottom lip. “Should I recycle?”

The only response was the controlled stare I’d learned to expect.

“Okay, then.” I dropped my utensil in the sink and left the kitchen.

He was, of course, right behind me.

“Do you sleep?” I cast a glance over my shoulder. Pain in the ass or not, he was pretty to look at, with short black hair and a broad face. Gray green eyes with smile lines around them, though he couldn’t have been over twenty. Maybe not shredded, but strong. His body had
presence
. “I only ask because you’ve been
here constantly. For three days. Don’t you ever need to eat? How about pee?”

His lips twitched and I thought I’d won a smile, but he cut it off before it could bloom. I made sure to put a little swing in my step when I turned around to go upstairs.

He sighed and followed.

At the top, I spun around and caught him off guard. He grabbed at the curved banister to keep his balance. “Tell me something,” I said. “Anything. I’ll even settle for your name.”

Stoic stance. No facial expression.

“Is my father paying you a crap ton of money not to talk or what?”

Now he focused on something behind me instead of me and leaned forward like he was ready to take another step.

I was all hands on hips, blocking his way. “Talk to me. About anything. The NFL? The NBA? Heck, the WWE?”

From the way his mouth shaped itself, I thought he could be biting the inside of his lower lip to keep from laughing.

“Have you been lobotomized?” I spoke slowly, with perfect enunciation, and mimicked sawing my own head open.

He gave his head a slight shake and stared at the floor. This time he couldn’t stop the smile.

Gotcha.

“Look at that,” I said. “Signs of intelligent life.”

Maybe his brain muscle was as well developed as the rest of them.

“Are you going to your room,” he asked, “or back downstairs?”

“He has a voice!” A deep one. “Wherever you’ll follow. That’s where.”

“I’m your bodyguard,” he said in a monotone. “I have to follow you.”

“To the ends of the earth.”

“Your room or back downstairs?” he repeated.

In one quick movement, I reached up and pulled off his earpiece. It slapped down against his chest. “Turn it off.”

He clicked a button, and the green indicator light switched to red.

“I’m staying right here. You’re going to talk to me,” I said.

The downstairs door slammed shut. We both jumped, and his whole body tensed.

“Hallie?” Dad barked out the question.

“I’m here.”

“Come down.” Most everything Paul Girard said was a demand.

I didn’t budge. “I just finished class, and I’m still in my robe.”

“There’s a guard with you?”

“Yeah. The new one who looks like a linebacker and stares at me while still managing to avoid direct eye contact.”

He made it now. His grayish green peepers locked on to mine. The potential of disapproval from my father made him respond
more quickly than any of my feminine posturing. I’d have to remember that.

Dad answered after a few seconds of silence. “I’ll be waiting in the library.”

“Library. Right.”

Dad’s fancy Italian loafers slapped across the hardwood floor. The sound echoed up the stairwell.

Once it disappeared, I stared at the male specimen in front of me. “Talk, or I’m not moving. I’m going to stand here until my dad comes looking for me. When he does, I’m going to untie my robe and back away from you like we’ve been doing something inappropriate. And just so you know, there’s nothing under this silk but skin.”

His Adam’s apple convulsed in his throat.

“There’s only one thing you can do to make me go in my room, put on my clothes, and get my fine ass to Daddy’s office.”

Silence.

“Tell me your name.” I smiled. “That’s all. Just your name.”

The words came out so softly I couldn’t hear him. I leaned in close and he made a strangled noise.

“Repeat that, please?”

“Junior. Ta’ala. But everyone calls me Dune.”

“Where are you from, Dune?”

“I thought I only had to tell you my name.”

I pulled at the tie of my robe, loosening the knot. It had been
way too long since I’d had someone to amuse me, and I planned on taking full advantage.

“Samoa,” he said in a rush.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Island in the South Pacific? Similar to Hawaii in landscape but less touristy?”

“I know where Samoa is,” I said. “So you’re Polynesian?”

“
Afatasi
. Half. My mom’s from New Zealand.”

“How did you end up here?”

“I needed a job, and I had to do something with … this.” He looked very confused as he gestured to his big body.