by Martha Carr
“I’ll have that right to you,” the waitress replied.
Peyton laughed. “Guess the site was right about our compatibility.”
“Yeah. Oh, I just wanted to tell you, I love your sense of fashion. It’s so bold and memorable.”
“Thanks. I try.” He shrugged.
See, Shay? Some people appreciate my look.
“It’s one of my passions, actually. I work in an office right now, but I have my own online company where I sell clothes I design.”
“A fashion designer? Nice.”
Tricia’s cheeks reddened. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable calling myself that yet, but I do design clothes.”
“Why didn’t you mention any of that on your profile?”
The conversation stopped as the waitress delivered their drinks. “Ready to order?”
Tricia and Peyton both shook their head.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes then.” The waitress departed.
Tricia took a sip of her drink before speaking again. “I didn’t want to seem pretentious and scare you off, but once I got here and saw you, I knew everything would work out. You’ve got a good air. I feel like I can be honest with you.”
Wish I could say the same, Tricia.
“That’s cool.” Peyton smiled.
“What about you? You just said you were in IT?”
“I work for a tech start-up, actually.” Peyton took a sip of his wine. Easy lies came with his lifestyle both before and after his “death.”
Tricia’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re going to be a billionaire someday?”
“Probably not. It’s all…you know, a bit more limited. It involves providing organizational software for charities. Not very sexy.”
“I don’t know about sexy, but that’s impressive. You sound like you’re really making a difference.”
Wonder what she’d think if she knew I helped Shay in a tomb-raider business. Collecting artifacts makes a difference. Maybe not a good one all the time, but a difference.
“Okay, have to move fast,” Shay barked, her breathing heavy. “Confirm the flight number for me. I can’t look at my phone so just tell me.”
It took Peyton a few seconds to realize it wasn’t Tricia talking.
He forced a smile. “I’m really sorry, but my phone just buzzed. My boss has me on call…you know, 24/7, so I just have to check on this real quick.”
Tricia blinked. “O-okay.”
Peyton sighed and brought his phone up to his mouth.
“What’s the flight number?” Shay hissed into his earpiece. Something thudded in the background and a loud groan followed.
“What was that?” Peyton inquired.
“Don’t worry. He didn’t see my face, and he’s not dead.”
“He’s not… Okay.”
“Tell me the fucking number. I’m kind of in a hurry and busy.”
“It’s…”
Peyton sighed, not wanting to give away sensitive information right in front of Tricia. She might not be anything but a sweet girl he had met online, but Shay would kill him if she ever found out he gave out her flight number in front of a civilian.
“What’s the fucking number, Peyton?”
“U102.”
He nodded, satisfied with his answer. It’d be hard to know that referred to United 102 without context.
“Thanks.” Shay’s ragged breathing continued over the line for a moment.
Just what I want to hear when I’m on a date.
Tricia gave Peyton an awkward smile, confusion in her eyes. He lowered the phone just in time for the return of the waitress.
“Are you ready to order?”
Tricia nodded. “I’ll have the pepperoni pizza.”
“No pizza for me. Just a burger.”
“Need you to see if you can ID someone for me,” Shay murmured into the earpiece. “Need to make sure I don’t have a tomb raider tail.”
Oh, this is going to be a long night.
Tricia’s stomach churned as Peyton opened the door to his apartment. She’d not gone home on a first date with a guy in a long time, but Peyton intrigued her. He seemed so nerdy, yet mysterious. Something about the combination was alluring, and it didn’t hurt that the man was easy on the eyes.
She also would never, ever complain about her boss again. She might have to work weekends on occasion, but her boss would never call her four times in a single night to badger her about her job. There was no such thing as work-life balance at Peyton’s start-up from what she could see.
Tricia stepped inside the sparsely decorated loft apartment with a smile. “I love how you’re so close to the beach.” She inhaled deeply. “You can even smell the ocean.”
“Exactly.” Peyton grinned.
A small orange tabby appeared from behind the couch and meowed at Tricia.
“What a pretty cat.”
“That’s Osiris.” Peyton made an eager face and tilted his head. “Ah, one sec. I have to go check on something.” He hurried into his bedroom.
The woman almost laughed. He was cute, and she wouldn’t mind having a little fun. He was probably checking if he had condoms.
Osiris meowed again, this time louder.
She knelt to pet the cat. She sighed at the same time. The cat rubbed against her hand and wandered off, no longer interested in humans.
The rather spartan decoration of the apartment gave the whole thing a very transitory vibe as if he’d not lived there long, but his profile claimed he’d been living in LA for a while.
She frowned as a faint lingering unease in the back of her mind shot to the front.
How did I not notice before?
Peyton was wearing some sort of earpiece. She’d been too embarrassed to ask him about it, thinking it was a hearing aid. She hadn’t wanted to come off shallow, but she now realized that every time he’d spoken on his phone he didn’t hold it up to his ear, but his mouth. The earpiece wasn’t for a hearing aid at all.
What kind of man lived in a place that looked like he could abandon it with a day’s notice and who needed to speak to his boss all the time? Two possibilities came to mind: spy or criminal.
Tricia swallowed. Peyton could be a serial killer. She grabbed her phone out of her purse and submitted the picture she’d taken when he was on the phone and his name to her Athena Shield Personal Protection App, now glad she had paid for the premium package. LA was full of weirdoes, after all.
She took a few deep breaths as she waited for the app to process his information and spit back public record entries. The app would at least help her confirm that he’d lived in LA for a while.
NO RECORDS FOUND.
Tricia blinked at the phone. She’d tried it on all her friends when she’d first downloaded it, and she’d never failed to find a record, even if it involved someone with the same name.
She adjusted a few settings and tried again.
NO RECORDS FOUND.
“Maybe there’s something wrong with the app.”
Tricia tapped her name and location as Los Angeles, but nothing else. She submitted the search.
Dozens of records links populated the screen within seconds.
The bedroom door opened and Peyton stepped out a broad smile on his face, his suit jacket already off.
“Do you want a drink?” he inquired.
Tricia shook her head. She nibbled on her lip and tried to calm her pounding heart. She stared down at her phone. It was like Peyton didn’t even exist.
Maybe he is a spy. But why would a spy be hooking up with women on dating sites? This could be some sort of trick to use me in some weird international intrigue thing.
Tricia stopped herself from gasping. She worried about him being a spy or criminal, but he could be some sort of shape-changing Oriceran monster, too.
She headed over to the couch and dropped into it. “Why did you pick my profile?”
“Huh?”
“On Hello Cupid. Why me?”
Peyton sm
iled. “Because you’re attractive and seemed a little quirky. In other words, my kind of girl.”
“They don’t have attractive and quirky girls at your company?”
He laughed and slid in beside her. She scooted to the other side of the couch.
“It’s a very small company,” Peyton explained. “Most start-ups are. The only woman who works at the place… Let’s just say she’s not my type.”
“That your boss?”
A sheepish looked passed over his face. “Yeah. She’s a real ball-buster.”
“What’s the company called?”
Peyton blinked as if the question had taken him off-guard. “Um, I’m under a non-disclosure agreement right now. I can’t really talk about a lot of the details.”
“You can’t say the name of the company you’re working for?” Tricia eyed him with suspicion.
Peyton shrugged. “That’s the tech industry for you.”
“Okay, sure, fine. What did you do before you worked for your super-secret company?”
“Freelance IT consulting.” He waved a hand. “It’s all very boring. You wouldn’t be interested.”
“But you lived in LA then?”
Peyton nodded. “Yeah.”
“Here?”
“You mean this apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“Um, no. This is kind of a newer place. Still kind of getting used to it.”
Tricia narrowed her eyes. “Where did you live?”
“You sure you’re not interested in a drink?” Peyton asked, a nervous tone in his voice. “I think I am. Do you mind?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Peyton hopped up and headed into his kitchen.
Tricia reached into her purse and rested her hand on her pepper spray. Even shape-changing Oriceran monsters had eyes and mouths.
Peyton poured himself a glass of wine and gulped half of it down.
“Tell me more about your boss,” Tricia pressed.
“My boss?” He gulped down the rest of the wine. “I can’t…really talk about her much.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve had friends who’ve signed NDAs. It’s not like you’re working for the CIA. You just can’t talk about your day-to-day job.” Her hand still in her purse, Tricia removed the cap of the pepper spray.
Unless he is working for the CIA. I’m not going to be used for some weird spy games.
Peyton walked back to the couch. “It’s not like I can’t talk about her. It’s more that I don’t want to. Does that make sense?”
Tricia stood, her gaze locked on Peyton. “Look, you seem nice, and you’re cute, but I’ve got a headache, so I think I should head home.”
“A headache?”
“Yeah.”
Disappointment blasted over Peyton’s face, and he sighed. “I’ll drive you home.”
She shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m going to walk for a bit to clear my head and call a Lyft.”
“You sure?” Peyton sighed again.
“Very sure.” Tricia backed toward the door, her hand still on the pepper spray. “I hope you get a better job soon.” Still facing Peyton, she opened the door and slipped through.
Peyton stared at the closed door for a good minute. The night had started awkwardly, but he’d thought Tricia agreeing to come back home with him was a good sign. He didn’t understand what had brought on the game of Twenty Questions.
He dropped onto his couch face-first.
It’s never going to work, is it? I can’t have a long-term relationship with the civilian population, and even a one-night stand seems like it’ll be too much trouble.
Peyton groaned and closed his eyes. It was hard being a dead guy.
Osiris hopped on the couch and rubbed against Peyton’s face. At least his cat understood.
He opened his eyes. “Okay, if I can’t have a real life separate from my work life, then no reason to keep you away from the warehouse.” He nodded to himself. “You always were more of a warehouse cat. Lily misses you anyway.”
20
Shay hummed as she pulled her Fiat into Warehouse Two, glad to be back in the US and away from any angry Greek or Turkish authorities. Dealing with the cops had given her more heartburn than the skeletons, which was not what she would have predicted when she took the job.
What the fuck was that about? Most places I go the cops barely look at me, and suddenly in Turkey they were all over me? Did someone tip them off, or did they just get lucky?
In the end, no one had managed to identify her, and she’d delivered the stone to the client. All in all, it had been a good solid job. She’d been paid, and her reputation continued to grow. She’d bounced back completely from her failure in Antarctica.
Fuck Yulia. I hope she’s trapped by a giant on some gnarly beanstalk now. She’s gonna regret leaving me alive.
Shay hopped out of her car and headed toward the office. The tomb raider was prepared to perch on the wall and practice her glare for the tardy Peyton, but to her pleasant surprise, he was already in the office tapping away at his computer with Lily by his side, learning something new. Like a Mad Magazine version of a family photo-op.
This day is turning out great. I didn’t even have to threaten him. Maybe it’s not him, but an imposter who doesn’t know him well enough to pretend to be late? Even Lily looks happy and involved.
Shay snorted. The bright orange Nehru jacket dispelled any doubts she had about the man’s identity. A small orange tabby sat on his lap. Somehow he’d gotten Lily involved in his new theme. She was wearing a white mini skirt and pink top.
“You look like Dr. Evil,” Shay announced with a chuckle. “And his assistant?”
Peyton nodded. “That’s what I was going for.” Lily gave a nod.
“And that’s fashionable?”
“It is to me.”
She nodded toward the cat. “I didn’t realize we needed a warehouse pet.”
“That’s what Lily’s for.” Peyton quickly held up the cat between himself and Lily, stroking the cat’s fur. “Nice try.” He looked up at Shay. “Is he going to be a problem?”
Shay shook her head. “Good thing about cats is that they can’t give up your secret warehouse location in an interrogation since they can’t talk.”
“I guess I never really thought of it like that,” he admitted. He continued to pet Osiris and cooed, “You going to tell the bad guys they can’t break you?”
Shay laughed, imagining the cat speaking with Brownstone’s deep voice for some reason. “Just make sure he stays inside.”
“Easy enough,” Peyton replied.
“Not like he’s going to hack through all the security,” said Lily. “That’s even harder than speaking during an interrogation.”
Shay chuckled. “Good point.” Her gaze flicked to a big trash barrel she didn’t remember being in the warehouse. She marched over to it. “What’s this? You training for a new job with Purity Solutions?”
“Nope. It’s a monument to self-improvement. A proof of how the flames of adversity have led to strength.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
Burnt remnants of what might once have been pizza lay inside. Judging by the volume, Peyton had made more than one attempt at pizza when she was gone, and somehow everything had gone very wrong, like some horrible pyromantic ritual that got out of hand.
Shay laughed. “Did a wizard raid the warehouse when I was out of the country? Looks like your brave pizzas sacrificed themselves to protect this place.” She eyed the walls and ceiling. “But the question is, did they succeed? Did these pizzas die in vain, Peyton? Please tell me they didn’t.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. But behind his back Lily was busy nodding her head.
“I put the fire out before anyone noticed and called the fire department,” continued Peyton. “No one even looked this way. I even checked security footage to verify that.”
“What?” The humor vanished from Sh
ay’s voice. “The fire got that bad? How did you manage that?”
Peyton shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. Lily helped me disable all the alarms before they could go off.”
“And learned something about alarm systems,” Lily chimed in.
Peyton held out his hand, smiling. “A learning opportunity for all involved. That’s a good thing, right?”
Shay crossed her arms. “What useful tidbit did you learn from trying to burn down my warehouse? Where the fire extinguishers are?”
He grinned. “I learned that the sprinklers work.”
The tomb raider shook her head. She couldn’t take any more of this. If she wanted to salvage her mood, she’d need to get away from the warehouse right now.
Shay rolled her eyes. “Come on, we’re going out for a celebratory breakfast.”
“Come on, Osiris. Let’s go get some human food.”
Shay shook her head. “We’re all going to a restaurant. Your cat can’t come.”
“Oh.” Peyton made a pouty face.
Little Dom’s was busy as usual. Every table both inside and out was occupied. Waitstaff flowed between the customers and tables like water, smiles on their faces. The customers seemed just happy, sipping their drinks and taking bites of their entrees.
Chatter filled the room and light music played in the background, but unlike many restaurants in the city, Shay could hear herself think.
She was never surprised when the place was a pleasant madhouse. The restaurant had been famous as a pedestrian-friendly destination for longer than she’d been alive, which meant people were always popping in for a slice of Italian food heaven. It’d been a few weeks since she’d last been there, which was far too long.
Peyton thumbed through the menu. “What’s good here?”
“Everything, but we’re here to celebrate a successful job, so we’re getting pizza.” Shay gave him a serious look. “Tradition is important.”
“Finally, decent pizza.” Lily grabbed a menu, running her finger down the list.
Shay looked over at Peyton. “Tell me you didn’t make her taste test.”
Peyton eyed her quizzically, ignoring the question. “Pizza for breakfast?”