Say the Word

by Julie Johnson

  Santos laughed lightly, and some of the tension lines disappeared from around his eyes.

  “I’m awful sorry I bumped into you, officer,” I said, injecting my voice with honeyed remorse. “You have a good day, now!”

  “You too, miss,” he nodded at me.

  I beamed and turned away. When I’d made it three blocks from him, I allowed the forced smile to drop off my face and headed down onto the nearest subway platform. I couldn’t go home, not if Santos was still watching me. I’d have to hide out somewhere else for a few hours, which meant I’d likely be missing work for the second day in a row. I switched trains at three different platforms to ensure that if someone were, in fact, following me, they’d have a hell of a hard time keeping track of my final destination. When I was convinced I’d muddled my trail beyond recognition, I rode to SoHo.

  I pulled out my phone and texted Sebastian.

  Lux: Don’t kill me — I’ll be there as soon as possible. Something came up.

  My phone chimed instantly with an incoming text message.

  Bash: You okay?

  Lux: I’m fine, just a little rattled and covered in coffee. Bumped (literally) into Santos on my way to work.

  My phone rang.

  “I’m fine!” I whispered into the receiver.

  “Where the hell are you?” His voice was demanding and I could hear the sound of his quick footsteps pounding through the speaker at my ear. “Tell me you weren’t stupid enough to go straight home.”

  “Excuse me!” I huffed. “I resent that statement.”

  “Lux, don’t fucking mess around with me. I just left a meeting with six executives. Tell me where the hell you are.”

  “I didn’t go home. I got on the subway, hopped trains a few times, and headed to SoHo. I’m going to Simon’s loft.”

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You have work to do, and it’ll take you over an hour to get here in your car. Traffic is completely gridlocked.”

  He sighed and I listened to the sound of his thundering strides grow quiet as he slowed to a stop. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew I was right. “I don’t like this. I don’t want you alone.”

  “I won’t be alone. Simon’s roommates Nate and Shane are usually hanging at the loft. I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t they have jobs?”

  “Nate’s an artist and Shane’s a model — they pretty much make their own hours and spend a large majority of their time in their boxers, eating cereal from the box and sitting on the sofa watching sports reruns or playing video games. They’ll be happy to have me there — I’m freaking great at Mario Kart.”

  A frosty silence passed over the line as he considered that scenario. “Well, I’ll be there at eight to pick you up.”

  “Don’t I need to come into work?” I asked, confused. “Angela will wonder where I am.”

  “Let me worry about Angela. Don’t move from that loft until I get there. Understand?”

  “Jeeze, Mr. Dramatic.” I blew out a puff of air. “Can she at least email me my assignments, then? What else am I supposed to do all day?”

  “Get ready for tonight. Make sure you have something to wear — I’m guessing the dress code is formal.”

  “Tonight?” I asked, crossing at an intersection and heading for Simon’s loft.

  “I want this damn charade over with. I want you safe, done with this damn investigation. So we’re moving up our timetable,” Bash said. “Tonight, we’re going to Labyrinth.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Now

  “I look like a prostitute.”

  “You look gorgeous,” Simon said dismissively.

  “Fae!” I cast a pleading look in her direction.

  “What?” she muttered, not looking up from her magazine.

  “Help!”

  She raised her head to examine me. “I’d veto the blue eyeliner,” she suggested with a shrug.

  “It makes a statement!” Simon protested.

  “Sure, if the statement is, ‘I’m a hooker for hire,’” I complained, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  It was wrong, all of it. The dress was too short, the neckline too low, the heels too high to make me look like anything but a streetwalker — a high-priced one, perhaps — working her wares on the corner.

  “They’re not even going to let me in looking like this.” I shook my head as I scanned myself from top to toe.

  “Of course they will.” Fae sighed dismissively. “That’s a three thousand dollar dress.”

  “What!”

  “Relax,” Fae said, setting aside her magazine and rising from her perch on Simon’s bed. “We borrowed it from wardrobe closets at Luster. One of the stylists owed me a favor because I set her up with this great guy from—”

  “Fae!” I interrupted what was sure to be a long tangent about her matchmaking skills. “Can we skip back to the part where you said this dress costs more than my rent…”

  Simon and Fae grinned in unison.

  I began to hyperventilate. “What if I tear it? What if I spill something and stain it?”

  “Wow, good thing we didn’t tell her how much those Manolos cost,” Simon muttered to Fae.

  “What?!” I exclaimed, looking down at my feet in horror.

  “Baby, breathe,” Simon ordered, taking me by the shoulders and staring deeply into my eyes. “You won’t tear the dress or muss the heels. You’ll be fine. I’ll even take off the blue eyeliner if it makes you feel better.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Even though it totally brings out the navy hues in your eyes and—”

  “Simon!”

  “Fine, fine,” he muttered, steering me back to his vanity and grabbing a cotton swab. “Sit down, my little lady of the night.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him as he began to dab the heavy makeup away.

  “So what’s the plan, again?” Fae asked.

  “Sebastian’s picking me up here in—” I glanced at my watch. “Shit! That can’t be the time! He’ll be here in ten minutes!”

  “Deep breaths,” Simon ordered, swatting the tip of my nose with a makeup brush. “So you’re going to walk into this super secret society, assuming Sebastian’s last name even gets you inside, and… then what? Accuse the Vice President of sex trafficking? Tackle and handcuff a state senator in a civilian’s arrest? Kidnap and waterboard the beloved Good Day America newscaster until he reveals his sexual deviancies?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Of course not. We’re going to get inside, make a little small talk, and slip away into the back room when the coast is clear. There must be some kind of an office or a computer where they store files. If I can find a bank receipt or any kind of money exchange proving that they’ve been doing anything remotely incriminating, I’ll have enough to get the authorities involved.”

  “But who?” Simon asked. “I thought we couldn’t trust the NYPD because Santos might not be the only dirty cop working for these people.”

  I grimaced. “I haven’t quite figured it all out yet.”

  Simon snorted. “Great.”

  “The FBI,” Fae interjected quietly. She’d been listening in silence for several moments, a conflicted expression on her face. “You can go to them. I know someone who will help you.”

  Simon and I turned simultaneously to face our friend, twin expressions of surprise on our faces.

  “You know a guy in the FBI?” I asked, my tone full of disbelief.

  “Someone has been keeping some serious secrets,” Simon chided, planting both hands on his hips and leveling a glare in Fae’s direction. “What is this about? First you know a guy who can magically produce a dossier of information about Labyrinth. Then you know a guy who can look over Lux’s NDA. And now you know a guy who happens to work as a federal agent?” Simon snorted. “What are you, an international spy? A mobster’s daughter? A computer hacker leading a double life as a relationship expert?”

  Fae shook her head. “Yo
u guys, it’s not a big deal.”

  A knock sounded on Simon’s bedroom door and Nate popped his head inside. “Sebastian’s here.”

  “Thanks, Nate.” I smiled at him and he winked in return before disappearing back out into the common room.

  I rose from the vanity stool, straightened my shoulders, and took a final look at myself.

  “I can do this.” I took a deep breath. “At least, I think can do this. I’m pretty sure I can. Probably.”

  “Your self-confidence is awe-inspiring.” Simon rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, shut up.” I turned to face Fae. “When I get back, we need to have a long talk about your mysterious connections.”

  She grinned at me. “Good luck tonight.”

  “She doesn’t need luck, she’s wearing Dior,” Simon said. “Now go forth and conquer, baby.”

  ***

  Bash wasn’t speaking to me. Not with words, anyway. He’d taken one look at my outfit, and his vocabulary had devolved into some kind of strange, caveman-esque language of grunts and grumbles. Apparently, he wasn’t a fan of the hyper-short black dress or its revealing strapless sweetheart neckline.

  He’d arrived at Simon’s loft looking like a god — if gods were well-built, 6’2” blond men in immaculately tailored dinner jackets. We locked gazes as soon as I emerged from Simon’s bedroom, my two crazy friends in tow, and I saw his eyes widen fractionally as he took in my Simon-approved ensemble.

  Simon leaned in close to my side to whisper in my ear. “That’s a custom Dolce & Gabbana suit.” He blew out an amused huff of air. “Ha! And you wanted to recycle that old blue dress you wore to Trisha and Stu’s wedding last summer. I bet you’re glad to be in Dior now! You would’ve looked like one of the Ugly Stepsisters next to Prince Charming, instead of Cinderella.”

  “Thanks, Si. Real nice.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean, baby.” He laughed. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  “She’s not wearing any,” Fae chimed in, linking her arm through mine as we made our way to the door. “This dress is so tight, a panty-line would be glaringly obvious.”

  “Please, if you care about me at all, both of you shut the hell up,” I begged as we reached the door and came to a halt in front of Sebastian.

  “Hi,” I said, blushing.

  “Hi,” he replied, looking me slowly up and down in a way that gave me heart palpitations. As his eyes returned to study my face, a slow smile worked at the corners of his mouth and the banked heat in his eyes stirred to life. I prayed for the strength to make it through this night without combusting under his gaze.

  “Hi, handsome.” Simon hip-bumped me to the side and moved close to Bash, his hand extended in greeting. “I’m Simon. I’m sure you’ve heard about me — all flattering things, I hope.” He cast a look over his shoulder at me. “Otherwise, Lux will be getting no more free wardrobe updates or makeup tutorials.”

  I opened my mouth to protest that I had never once asked for either of those things, but Sebastian beat me to the punch by letting out a surprisingly happy laugh.

  “Well, to be honest, I haven’t heard much — but the things Lux has shared have all been wildly flattering, so you have nothing to worry about.” Bash unleashed his most devastating grin — the one that practically oozed charm and sex appeal, delighting women worldwide — and both Simon and Fae seemed to melt a little at the sight. Apparently, even they weren’t immune to the Covington charisma.

  “I’d love to stay and get to know you better, but Lux and I have a date.” He turned that alluring smile on me and I tried to steel myself against it but, even with nearly a decade of practice, I couldn’t quite manage to.

  “It’s not a date,” I grumbled, trying to breathe at a normal rate. I flipped my hair over one shoulder — drawing a glare from Fae, who’d spent nearly an hour curling it to perfection with hot rollers — and grabbed my purse from the small table near the door. Narrowing my eyes in what I hoped was a badass manner, I dropped my voice an octave lower to emphasize how serious I was about this endeavor. “Let’s do this.”

  Fae and Simon burst into simultaneous fits of hysterical laughter behind me. I cringed at the sound and turned slowly to face them, my brows arched.

  “Her face!” Simon gasped out between laughs. “Ohmigod, did you see her face? She’s like, ready for battle!”

  Fae had tears running down her cheeks, streaking her mascara into watery trails of black, and was clutching her stomach as she fought to regain breath. “Her face? What about that voice!” Her laughter turned into a snort. “Jack Bauer has nothing on you, Lux!”

  “I hate you both.” I glared at them each in turn. “And if I die, well, I hope you feel really terrible that the last thing you ever did was make fun of me.” At that, I turned and faced Sebastian, whose lips were twitching dangerously.

  “You laugh, you die,” I threatened, brushing past him and yanking open the door.

  “Not laughing,” Bash promised in a strangled voice.

  “Wait, wait,” Simon called breathlessly, rushing forward and leaning against the doorframe as we made our way down the hall. “Lux, you better not die, because… well…”

  I stopped and turned to face him, awaiting his apology.

  “We really need to return that dress to Luster.” He grinned. “If you die, we’ll be in deep shit.”

  I flipped him off and turned on my heel, listening to the fresh round of cackles erupting from Fae and Simon. When I heard a much closer laugh bubble up from the man standing next to me, I turned my glare in his direction.

  “Not a word, mister.” Despite my best intentions, their laughter was getting to me. Holding my stern face was a struggle.

  Bash tried to nod solemnly but soon lost the battle against hilarity. Within seconds, a chorus of laughter exploded out of him, echoing through the hallway and harmonizing with Fae and Simon’s giggles in a melody of mirth even I couldn’t deny.

  “Such children, all of you,” I complained, even as a grin stole across my face and a solitary giggle escaped my lips.

  ***

  Unfortunately, Bash’s amusement quickly fled as the severity of the situation once again descended on us. He grew quiet as soon as we climbed into his Land Rover, his eyes lingering on the hemline of my skirt and the treacherous amount of cleavage threatening to burst from the confines of my neckline.

  “Might as well be naked,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Excuse me?” I snapped, clicking in my seatbelt. “What was that?”

  Bash started the car and stared ahead in silence, his jaw clenching and unclenching every few seconds as he tried to reel in his spiraling frustration. He shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. Within minutes, we were rolling smoothly into the flow of evening traffic, headed for the Upper East Side.

  I stared out at the passing city, thinking about the night to come, and my stomach churned with fresh nerves. Before I knew it, we’d nearly reached Labyrinth. When we turned onto E. 65th St., Bash glanced over at me.

  “I don’t know who we’ll see in there or what will happen. We’re going in blind, so we need to stick together. No going off by yourself, no heroics. As far as the members inside are concerned, you’re nothing but arm candy — don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t call any unnecessary attention to yourself. The less they notice you, the better you can observe them without detection. And, trust me, you don’t want to be on their radar if you can avoid it.” Bash grumbled something indecipherable under his breath. “I don’t care if we haven’t found anything — if either of us senses any kind of trouble, we leave. End of story.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  When we pulled up at the valet, Bash leaned over into my space, slipped one hand around the back of my neck, and pulled me toward him with little tenderness. His lips landed hard on mine, crushing them in a rough kiss that I knew would leave my mouth swollen and bruised. His tongue invaded my mouth in an abrupt onslaught that left me no time to prep
are and utterly unable to even begin to return his kiss. And as quickly as he’d begun, it was over, leaving me dizzied and breathless. His hands released my neck and I fell back against the smooth leather seat, attempting to catch my breath and staring at him with wide eyes.

  He cupped my jaw lightly, his thumb skimming over my well-bitten bottom lip. “I had to do that, at least once. Just in case… things don’t go well in there.”

  A warm feeling spread through my chest and my throat went dry. Nipping at his thumb with my teeth, I tried to bring a smile back to his grim face. “Don’t say things like that. It’s going to be fine. And, if it’s not, well… I’ll make it up to you.”

  His wolfish smile appeared.

  “Not like that, you pervert.” I huffed. “I meant I’d buy you a beer or cook you dinner.”

  “You cook now?” he asked, surprise evident in his eyes.

  I laughed. “I can reheat take-out leftovers. Does that count?”

  His laughter joined mine, filling the small space with joy and chasing away our apprehension for a brief moment. Eyes warm on my face, he leaned forward once more and touched his forehead to mine. “Let’s go,” he whispered against my lips.

  For once, it was me who initiated. I threw caution to the wind and leaned in, brushing my lips against his. On the surface, it was a small kiss — a single ripple on the ocean of lust we’d been wading in for the past few weeks. But beneath the surface, in the deepest reaches of the sea, a monumental tidal shift had occurred.

  When we broke contact, Bash stared at me, his expression totally unguarded and a question burning in his eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but before either of us could say anything, a valet appeared at my window and pulled open my door, extending his hand down to guide me from the car.

  I’d always seen movie stars being helped from their vehicles by chauffeurs and laughed, thinking Jeeze, she can’t even get out of a car by herself? But tonight, I finally understood. There was no way heels this tall and a skirt this short would make it out of the Land Rover unassisted — at least, not without flashing the world a view of the lady bits I’d rather keep private.