Behind Frenemy Lines

by Chele Pedersen Smith

  “Yeah, that. Just how I am supposed to leave the dance floor?”

  “I'll stay close,” she promised. She had a fleeting fantasy to tap him off right there in the middle of the ballroom without anyone the wiser. Maybe if she smashed herself against him, everyone would just think they were grinding. She made a bet with herself. If the next number was a slow one…

  “Gal, be careful, you know I'm also an explosive kind of guy.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  T hey could barely swipe the card, fumbling more with each other than the key. Lee didn't know how fortunate he was the band decided to take an intermission at that very moment, but just the idea of what she wanted to do was drenching enough.

  Finally barging in, Gal flung off her heels and stripped Lee of his jacket, while he unzipped her dress and she yanked his loosened tie over his head. They fell on the bed in a lustful heap. Lee crawled on top, making her ovaries flutter with anticipation.

  “Damn it. I left my handbag downstairs.” She started to rise, hating to break the mood.

  “They'll keep it at the front desk.” His voice was deep and throaty as he ran his hand up her thigh, tempting her back on the pillow.

  “I don't want it stolen. My credit card is in there.”

  “Cancel it,” he mumbled, planting kisses down her neck.

  “I won't feel relaxed until I have it. And while I'm out, I'll grab some ice.” Nibbling his earlobe, her whisper lingered, sweeping him into a sorcerer's spell. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “That would be hot,” he slurred, kissing her breasts elegantly held hostage by an ivory fleurs-de-lis print.

  “I'll be back lickety-split.”

  “No, let me. It’s the gentleman thing to do.” But his lips refused to leave, neither of them going anywhere. “On the other hand,” he said, bringing hers to his bulky trousers. “Where can I go with this?”

  “Good point.”

  “Or, we can do it later. We have all night,” he reminded, pulling her back on the bed.

  It was tempting to wait, deterred by his delectable kisses, but if she didn't leave now, Gal knew she never would. She pushed him away gently. “I don't want my gun getting into the wrong hands. I saw ice right down the hall. It'll be worth the wait, I swear.”

  “Hurry back,” he begged, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

  Managing to wriggle free, she snatched the bucket and bolted out the door. Her bare feet flounced across the beige carpet as she hurried to the lift near the dispenser. The illuminated numbers above the metal doors indicated the car was still many floors away. She tapped her foot impatiently, then deciding to save time, lined the cup under the spout and pulled the lever, watching cubes tumble out noisily, clanging and clinking. A foot away, the elevator dinged and as she ran to catch it, a man emerged carrying her clutch.

  The bucket seemed to fall in slow motion, ice bouncing out in all directions but Galaxy froze, petrified.

  “Hello, Galaxia.” The man dressed in black with matching ascot and greasy ponytail menaced so close, his goatee scratched her cheek. Detecting the familiar stench of Yorsh, her stomach turned, but her heart felt nothing.

  Still mixing Vodka with his Baltic Porter. “Viktor,” she acknowledged coldly. “I thought I saw you earlier. I knew I wasn't crazy.”

  “Eh, I'm not so sure about that, hohol. Your mental state has always been a matter of question.” He tossed her pocketbook at her feet.

  “Why are you here?” she hissed, spittle spraying in his face.

  “Someone has to make sure you do your job.”

  “I'm keeping Lee out of the way so you can do yours.”

  “Oh, I bet you are.” He leered at her neckline now gaping because of the open zipper. “You were always good in the sack, weren't you, my little suka?” His tobacco-stained fingers stroked the curve of her face. “Your best skill was black bag jobs if I recall correctly.” He chuckled at the crude innuendo, his raspy voice suggesting three packs a day.

  “That’s breaking and entering, you peshka!”

  “My mistake. I suppose he's the one doing that, huh?” He copped a feel like he owned her. “Lucky bastard!”

  How did she ever think she loved him? He was swine on the inside and out. She slapped his hand away, shocking him. “What exactly do you want?” Her crisp tone was eager to end the unpleasant exchange.

  “This!” He plucked the keycard from her breasts, glancing at the sleeve. “Room two-fourteen. Good to know. Mine's in the purse.”

  A door squeaked open, and Lee appeared, robed. “Gal, what's taking so long?” Then, spotting her surrounded by spilled ice, he sprinted down the hall.

  Viktor whispered something right before Gal bent down to scoop up the contents, then in slight-of-hand fashion, slipped into the elevator dispersing guests at just the right moment. She sighed relief when the doors swallowed him whole, not a second too soon.

  Lee was at her side, immediately seizing the half-melted crescents and dumping them into the overflow grate. “Everything okay? What was that about?”

  “Oh nothing, you know how clumsy I am. I was in such a rush to get back to you; I bumped into that guy. C'mon...” She led him away quickly, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions.

  Freshening up, Galaxy's plan of playing it cool fell apart as soon as she closed the bathroom door. Pull yourself together, girl. She wasn't sure why she was crying. A mixed bag of her past, relief that Lee hadn't caught on, betrayal, misgivings, finally getting over that scalawag once and for all.

  Or was it the turmoil of new love and knowing it had to end? She plunged her face into cold water to blanch the emotions. She didn't want to spoil the evening, not when the only thing she was certain about was waiting on the other side of the door.

  “I ordered champagne and refilled the ice bucket,” Lee announced, surprising her when she entered the room. Candles flickered, casting an attractive ambiance, accompanied by the soft romantic playlist humming from his phone. “You wanted a proper date.”

  The tears were back, brimming at his thoughtfulness. “It's beautiful. The whole evening's perfect.”

  “Are you sure you're okay? Something didn’t seem right back there.”

  “Never better.” She pushed him on the bed with an aggressive kiss, maybe more to convince herself than Lee.

  He slipped off her gown inch by inch, grazing a trail of exposed skin along the way. When it gathered at her feet, she kicked off the remainder.

  Insatiable by Darren Hayes harmonized their rendezvous so appropriately. The rising of the melodic notes teasing, building, craving. The hypnotic whisper of desire so powerful, it united their souls.

  They went at each other hungrily, their bodies intertwining like twisted sheets, their love so visceral it reached the depths of their core. They collapsed, breathing one breath until a sudden rapping on the door broke the euphoria.

  Chapter Eighteen

  T he “Do Not Disturb” sign glared at them from the wrong side of the door. Lee cursed, realizing this oversight in their haste.

  “It's maintenance. We have to swap out rotted trees.”

  The agents exchanged puzzled glances before shooting one at the room's fichus, which seemed fine, albeit a few dry, pitted leaves. “What the—” Lee mouthed silently.

  “Sounds odd,” Gal agreed, jumping up to grab a robe as Lee wrapped himself in his, packing heat.

  “Be careful,” she warned.

  He peeked between the chain links. Two men in dingy, mustard uniforms manned a cart hosting a thriving tree.

  “You're replacing plants at this hour?” Lee asked through the barrier.

  “Just following orders, sir,” one apologized.

  “We're more likely to find patrons in the room this time of night,” the other offered.

  “Seems more appropriate to follow a maid during turnover,” Lee advised. “Come back tomorrow when we’ve check out.”

  “Please, sir. Each pot has a room number on it. Y
ou'd be doing us a solid if you just take this off our hands. The faster we check them off, the faster we get home to our families.”

  Lee looked at Gal behind the door. She nodded. “Okay, make it quick.” He braced for action, just in case. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about this weird request, other than it being odd. He'd once stayed at a hotel on New Year's Eve where they delivered fresh towels at midnight because it became a funny tradition. A college football team requested them and won the Rose Bowl. But now with Galaxy's intuition about Viktor, he wasn't taking a chance.

  The guys wheeled in the rubber tree and did a quick swap, leaving with a nod.

  “So, that seemed harmless and not suspicious at all,” Gal giggled, replacing the chain.

  “Hmm, what do you think that was about?” Reclining on the bed, he propped himself by an elbow.

  Gal joined him, lying flat on her back. “It didn't look like anything was under the cart like I imagined.”

  “Were you expecting something?” he teased.

  “No, just wishful thinking.”

  “My mind went there too. Maybe they were smuggling jewels.”

  “Into our room?” she chortled. “We should be so lucky.”

  A gnawing notion made him sit up. “Treasure hunt?”

  They scrambled over and started digging. “Wait a minute. This isn't your way of proposing, is it?”

  “Gee, Galaxy, don't be such a spoilsport,” he scoffed in mock insult. “Yeah, right after a week of dating, I always go to the trouble of planting a diamond in a random tree and have it delivered with room service.” They laughed at the absurdity.

  “Actually, it's brilliant.” They sifted through the soil for several minutes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but your theory is full of holes.” She swiped mud on her robe.

  “Unless…” He rose, pacing the room. “What if they were transporting something out? I can't shake the feeling that something was going on by the elevator. Be honest. It was him, wasn't it? Did he hurt you?” Kneeling beside her, he stroked her hair.

  “I'm fine. He was just reminiscing about old times. The jerk misses me, I guess.” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know?”

  “Why, because he didn't fit the description you gave me earlier? It doesn't take a cryptologist to read your body language. So why did you throw me off track?”

  “I don't know. It was dumb. I was afraid I might still have feelings for him, and I didn't want you there slanting the results. I never thought about being in actual danger.”

  “Fucking unbelievable!” Scrambling to his feet, he began blowing out candles. “Then what the hell are we doing here, Gal? Am I just some guy to screw until Viktor wakes up and smells the coffee?”

  She sprang up, following him. “Wait, don’t get mad! I just needed to test my heart, to make sure.”

  “And did it pass?” he glared, shoving legs into boxer shorts.

  “Aced it!”

  “Meaning...”

  “Meaning, I'm over him! Forever. Caput. His groping and nasty insults confirmed it.”

  “And that’s the kind of guy you like?”

  “Definitely not. I don't know what I was thinking. Blinded by youth, I guess. I joined Firebird as if I could help change the world.” She huffed at such a farce. “To think I let him mold me. He's not even worth all the calories I scarfed down.” She slid down the edge of the bed onto the carpet. “Why do women do that? It's stupid. I bet men don't drown themselves in self-pity.”

  “Why do you think beer was invented?” He hugged a pillow, flopping down on the floor. “So does that mean we can finally put him out to pasture? Because, frankly, my dear, I am quite sick of that guy.”

  “That makes two of us.” She inched closer and put her hand on his. “Our evening tonight sealed the deal. I knew... it's you!”

  He pulled her into his arms, still a bit guarded. “Glad to hear that, but seriously, you said if he was hanging around, it was bad news. What's he up to?”

  “He… just wanted me back is all.” She got up, pouring another round of drinks.

  Lee studied her. “We should keep an eye out just in case. Maybe we should check around again.”

  “We should be careful, yes. But for tonight, everything's fine. I told him loud and clear, I wasn't interested.”

  “Good.” They sat against the bed, listening to the soothing music, half asleep from the booze. “Wait, there's just something that keeps bugging me. How did he know where to find you?”

  “Oh…he said he'd been watching me all night, jealous,” she shivered. “No wonder I sensed it! He saw us go into the hotel, dressed to the nines. And then when we left, he stalked us to the second floor.”

  “Well, that’s creepy. I wonder why we didn’t cross paths, or where he started from.”

  “Excellent question. He's a pro at hiding. Oh great, now I'm starting to freak out!” She rubbed imaginary chills on her arms.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just thinking out loud. We'll call for backup security on our way home. No worries.” He caressed her back then pointed to the pot. “Guess it was just Arbor Day after all. Let's hit the sack.”

  “Yeah, if I can sleep now. Thanks.”

  “Who said anything about sleep?”

  They got up to stand, her terrycloth pocket accidentally snagging a long strand of bamboo, which promptly unzipped the planter. “Oops.” She held up the ripped evidence in embarrassment.

  “Congratulations,” he chuckled. “You ruined something that's been here for about five minutes.”

  “Maybe management won't notice,” she offered, chewing a hangnail.

  Lee bent over to investigate. “Only minor damage,” he reported, braiding it back on.

  “Let me guess; you took basket weaving in high school?”

  He looked up. “No, for a case on a commune.”

  “Of course.” It was Gal's turn to shake her head.

  Just then a frayed edge rolled apart between his fingers. “Hey, this peels away. Look!” They knelt down and removed the inner cane layer. Something flat covered in plastic wrapped around the circumference of the pot. They wriggled it free.

  “Well, I'll be...” Gal dashed to the door and surveyed the hall.

  “Amazing! How'd they think to fit a painting in here? What are you doing?” he asked, noticing her nervous energy.

  “Checking for lurking suspects but the coast looks clear.”

  “We better not unroll the canvas. Don't want to risk damaging it, might be famous. Doesn't it look familiar?”

  “Yes, where do you think it's from?” Gal looked closely at the folded face of a sad little redhead peeking around the creased canvas, a salmon-pink bow in her hair. She was almost lost in the oversized white dress sitting there in a grainy wooden chair. Gal rotated the package, looking for an identifying marker. “I think it says Ruth, or Rutherford something, maybe? I'm not sure. It bends.”

  “Artist or subject? Could be from any museum around here.” Lee pulled out his phone. “Do you think all the replacements have one or this just happened to be a lucky drop? Seems a little too convenient if you ask me, especially with Viktor lurking around.”

  “Why would he send us a stolen painting? He'd want it far away from us as possible. Are you reporting this or taking a picture?”

  “I'm calling Geoff.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Right, I should call the police.”

  “Not yet. Let's check on other trees first. Get a better handle on whether it's a major operation or single incident.” Gal jumped into her gown, slipping on her heels.

  “At this hour? What do we do, knock on doors?”

  “Good thinking. It's nearly midnight; we can't do that.” She looked around, flailing for an idea. “We could split up, look around the hotel, see if any hallway or lobby displays have a secret prize inside.”

  “Or, we could call this in, give the authorities the lead.” His thumb flew across the keypad. Gal covered his hand, lowerin
g it.

  “What fun is that? Don't you want to see where this goes?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Are we investigators or not? Would you rather have a confident story to tell Geoffrey or do you want to tick him off again?”

  Lee sighed, knowing she was right. It was important to collect facts. “I think we better act fast if we have any hope of trailing deliveries.” Tossing his phone on the bed, he resumed dressing, lining his pockets with essentials.

  “I have the room key,” Gal announced, tucking it into her pleats along with her tiny handgun. “I wish I packed a change of clothes.” She curtsied in exasperated sarcasm.

  “You win Best Dressed agent hands down,” he joked, kissing her forehead.

  “Thanks. Oh, what am I thinking? I can run better barefoot.” She flung off her footwear.

  “Oh good, you mean those aren't weapons?”

  “Not yet,” she smiled. They scampered down the hall, taking the stairwell three steps at a time. From the lobby, they had a clear view of the glass encased tiers. Minimal movement peppered throughout the floors that time of night as only a few sleepy guests meandered the halls returning from the dance or nearby tourist attractions.

  “This reminds me of the ant farm I had as a kid,” Lee remarked.

  Those little traitors…”Lucky! I always asked for one, but Father Christmas never came through. I dreamt of being the queen of the colony.”

  “Ah, the gateway to world domination.” He feigned an evil laugh. “Well, they were pretty cool until I forgot to feed them and they all died, along with my dream of becoming an Entomologist. Of course, most of the bunch were DOA anyway.” Appraising the atrium, he signaled toward a hiding spot near a potted tree. “Let's hope we don't get the same result tonight.”

  “I'm sorry your bug dreams were squashed. I guess you traded them for the electronic kind.” Gal ripped open the planter and came up empty. “Maybe they're just in the rooms?”

  The desk clerk frowned and headed their way but was stopped by a pajama'ed patron. They ducked inside a back door, scurrying out of sight.