“You’re breaking my heart.”
Sighing, Salvatore shook his head. “How the hell did you even get on that plane?”
“Really?” Troy cocked an eyebrow. “Do you even have to ask me, the guy who broke through the school’s supposedly impenetrable computer firewalls in order to hack your bank account and send flowers to the Latin teacher on your behalf?”
A laugh rumbled in the old guy’s chest. “As I recall, that trick didn’t go so well for you since she and I were quietly seeing each other and I’d already sent her flowers. She figured out fast who pulled that off.”
“But the flowers I chose were better—Casablanca lilies, if I recall.”
“And I learned from that. Same way you should accept you can learn from others once in a while.” Salvatore and the teacher had eventually married—and divorced. The man’s laughter faded into a scowl. “The internet is not your personal plaything.”
Troy held up his cuffed wrists. “These give me hives and flashbacks.”
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because I’ll get the job done. I always do. I’ll find our mystery guy either in person or through the hotel’s security system. I will make sure this time that he doesn’t get away with hiding from the cameras. We will track his accounts and nail the bastard.” He’d only caught a glimpse of the guy once, a month ago shortly before they’d taken down Barry Curtis. If only they’d caught both men then… “But now, as far as I’m concerned, my job also includes making sure Hillary Wright stays safe in that pool of piranhas posing as scions of society.”
“As long as you don’t make a spectacle of yourself or her, I can live with that. Keep it low-key for once.”
“Okay, deal,” he agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly because Salvatore’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Time for a diversion. “One last thing, though.”
“You’re pushy today.”
“Look in my briefcase. I brought John Junior—” Salvatore’s only kid “—a copy of Alpha Realms IV. He’ll have a month’s head start mastering it before it hits the market.”
“Bribery’s a crime.” But Salvatore still reached for the Italian leather case. “What’s the favor?”
“It’s just a gift for your son from my software company. No strings attached.”
“What’s the favor?” he repeated.
“I don’t agree with your pulling Hillary Wright into this. She’s too naive and uninformed. After the party tonight, I want her sent home to D.C. Scrap keeping her around for the weekend.”
Troy would figure out a way to contact her in D.C., without all the hidden agenda crap. But make no mistake, he would see her again.
“She’s not so innocent if she was involved with Barry Curtis.” The colonel slid the video game into his black briefcase. “She’ll prove herself this weekend—or not.”
“Guilty of bad judgment, that’s all.” Troy was sure of that. What he didn’t know—something that bothered him even more—was if Hillary still had feelings for the creep.
God, why did he feel such a connection to a woman he’d only just met? Maybe because she possessed an innocence he’d never had.
“Are you so sure about her?” The leather seats creaked as Salvatore shifted back into place.
Troy was certain he couldn’t let her go into a ballroom full of crooks alone. “I’m sticking with her tonight and putting her on a plane in the morning.”
Salvatore patted his briefcase. “You should really keep me happy if you want me to put in a good word with your brother’s parole officer.”
Troy looked up sharply. Pulling in his brother was dirty pool, even for Salvatore.
“I’m not an enabler.” His brother, Devon, had more than a drug problem. He’d blown through his trust fund and had been sent to jail for dealing to feed his cocaine addiction. Troy forced himself to say blandly, “Do whatever you want with him.”
“Tough love or sibling rivalry?”
Anger pulsed—at Salvatore for jabbing at old wounds. “You’d better tell the driver to move this along so I can get out of these handcuffs before I have to take a leak. Otherwise you’ll have to help.”
“Bathroom humor is beneath you, Donavan.”
“I wasn’t joking.” He pinned Salvatore with an impassive look as the SUV stopped in front of the towering hotel.
Salvatore reached for the door handle as the driver opened Troy’s side. “Time to rock and roll.”
* * *
Standing in the elevator in the Chicago hotel, Hillary smoothed her sweaty palms down the length of her simple black dress. Strapless and floor length, it was her favorite. She’d brought it, along with her good luck charm clipped to her clutch purse, to bolster her and steady her nerves. It wasn’t working. Her hands went nervously to her hair, which was straight with a simple crystal clasp sweeping back one side.
She’d been nervous enough about this weekend from the moment she’d been asked to come to Chicago, but at least she’d had a plan. She’d thought she had her head on straight—and then she’d fallen right into flirting with a notorious guy seconds away from handcuffs. The experience had thrown her. Right now, she wasn’t sure of much of anything.
There’d been a time, as a little girl, when she’d dreamed of staying in a five-star hotel like this one, in a big city, with all the glitz included. As a kid, after she’d finished her chores on the dairy farm, she’d hidden in her room, away from her drunken mother. For hours and hours, Hillary had played on the internet, escaping into another world. Researching other places and other ways to live. Clean places. Pretty, even.
With tables full of food.
She’d spent a lot of time thinking about the cuisine, learning recipes, planning meals and parties to fill her solitary world. Even if only in her imagination.
Once she’d turned eighteen, she scrounged together enough college loans to get a degree in hospitality and economics. Three years ago, she’d landed with a major D.C. corporation that contracted out events planners. Someday, she hoped to start her own company. Be in charge of her own business. She refused to live her life as the scared little country girl she’d once been, hiding in her room, too afraid to slip out and grab a mushy apple from behind mom’s beer.