Once And Forever: Virtually Impossible Part 17

"Then why did you tell me you're not working with computers anymore?"

Oh s.h.i.+t. I held onto the door to keep myself standing.

"I don't care about the little c.r.a.p you've been doing. In fact, I've always thought that part of your agreement was bulls.h.i.+t. But I do care about you. Understand?" He waited for me to nod. It was a struggle. "I'm here to give you a heads up. I wouldn't do that if I really thought you were involved. But if I know you've been going into places you're not allowed to go, and this case becomes the s.h.i.+tstorm I think it will, there's a chance someone else will figure it out, too. I just hope you're not working on anything even remotely connected to this case."

Me, too.

"Now, like I said, there are a lot of names higher on that list than yours, and we're just getting started. So you have time." He glanced at his watch. "I gotta go. Just...talk to a lawyer, Andi. A good one."

After I shut the door, I stumbled into the living room and slumped down on the couch, pulling my grandma's quilt over me. Everything had been going so well. Of course, something had to ruin it. I'd been piling up bad karma for a while now-lying for my job, working with computers, doing s.h.i.+t I shouldn't. But murder? I couldn't even fathom that. It just didn't compute.

Although, I didn't exactly have a right to feel persecuted. Detective Williams should be suspicious of me. I'm a suspicious person. When was the last time I'd been honest about anything important?

It's so easy to tell yourself that you're not doing anything too wrong or that your lies aren't hurting anyone but you. So easy to forget that you want to change when you're living every day separately-morning to night, plodding along, no clear goal ahead. So easy to veer off course and ignore what you're doing to survive.

'I'll just do it today, only today.' Lying to myself is an addiction.

Dazedly, I heard my cell phone ring. I slowly turned my head toward the side table, then watched the phone vibrate on the wood for a second. I picked it up and answered, knowing whatever it was couldn't be worse news than I'd just received. "h.e.l.lo?"

"I'm bored," Sara said. "Wanna do something tonight?"

I should call Emilia and tell her I'd given the detective her name. She wouldn't have to lie to him-on Wednesday night, she'd dragged me to an evening Pilates cla.s.s. I'd blocked most of the experience out, but it had to have ended later than 8:30. Didn't it? Oh G.o.d, what if it hadn't? What if I didn't have an alibi for either night in question? If only I'd gone out with Sara and gone home with some guy the police would believe because he would have no reason to lie. Maybe I needed to start covering more of my a.s.s. Maybe I needed to stop being such an a.s.s. Tomorrow.

"h.e.l.l yeah," I said. "It's Friday night! I want to go out, get so wasted I can barely walk, and screw some lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d so hard he won't be able to stand till Monday."

"Yay!" Sara yelled. "The old Andi is back!"

Was she? That wasn't a good thing. Not a good thing at all.

I focused on getting ready to go out, breaking out my trampiest clothes from where they'd been tucked away the last time I was thinking clearly. I turned the radio on full blast and sang along with every song, whether or not I knew the actual words. Anything was better than thinking.

Thankfully, the dress was so tight, all the wrinkles were ironed out naturally. I tried the same thing with my hair-slicking it back into a bun that was so tight I even got a mini facelift out of it. I may have gone a bit overboard, but when your life seems to be barreling downhill uncontrollably, being mistaken for a hooker doesn't seem like such a big deal. In fact, tonight's plan involved keeping my goals and my standards equally low.

Before I left, I went to shut down my stupid computer and saw that Hayden had responded earlier. I stared at the words, my heart pounding so hard, my dress almost split open.

It wasn't important. Whatever Hayden and I were doing-not important. That he thought I was someone else-not important. So until I reported to the police station in a few days without a lawyer, forgetting all of my lies seemed very important. Just for a little while, I'd forget.

So I shut it all down and walked away. Unfortunately, his comment wasn't as easy to turn off.

'I don't think I could get you confused with anyone else, Sira. You're probably the most singular person I've ever met.'

Little did he know.

23.

Andi "Andi!" Sara whispered. At least, it sounded like a whisper compared to all the noise around us. She nudged me, hard, in the b.o.o.b. I think she was aiming for my arm, but we'd had enough c.o.c.ktails, I couldn't be absolutely sure what she was trying to do. "There is a super-hot guy at your 6:00 who can't stop staring at you. Wait. He's at your 7:00. Nope. 8:30. 9:00 or 9:15 now." Great, he was circling. Like a shark. Or maybe he was just on his way to the bar, which was somewhere around here. I think.

"He's probably a music producer who was so amazed by my karaoke performance that he wants me to sign with his record label."

Sara laughed. "Our bad karaoke was at the last bar. Or two ago."

"It was?" Well, would you look at that? Nope! Nope, don't look at that-looking at that made me dizzy. "You're right. This place is a lot blurrier than the last place we were in. Where are we again?" I could've asked 'when are we' because I didn't know the answer to that question either. Actually, between the guy at my 9:00 or 9:15 or wherever he was, and the darkness inside the bar, I knew exactly what time it was-one drink past too many.

"Hotel bar," Sara said. "Super hot, super rich guys." She was super rich and had no interest in a guy for more than one night, so I wasn't sure why that was a big deal.

"I shouldn't be here. I already have one more super hot, super rich guy than I can handle."

I felt someone tap me on the shoulder-with a hand, not a b.o.o.b-and then saw Sara's expression turn to confusion. More confusion. When I turned around, a guy wearing a black jacket, white s.h.i.+rt, and tie looked down at me.

"Thank you," I said. "But I don't need any more drunks. I mean drinks." My liver must really hate me right now.

He nodded. "That's a very good idea, but not why I'm here. Are you Sara Antonopoulos?"

"No," I said, pointing to Sara. "She is."

"Sorry." He faced Sara. "A guest requested that you meet them in the lobby."

She glanced at me, her mouth in the shape of a donut. I need a donut.

"Who?" she asked the guy.

"A gentleman."

"I told you this place is awesome." Sara looked at me again, made another 'O' face, and we both busted up laughing. "A gentleman wants to meet me in the lobby," she parodied.

The hotel employee looked at us as if trying to figure out why the 'gentleman' wanted to meet us at all.

"Wait." I tried my best to focus. "Who is he really? Does he have a name, this gentleman caller?"

"Of course, he has a name," Sara slurred. "And I will find out what it is just as soon as I can."

"Hayden Bennett," the guy said.

My gasp didn't make it all the way out, so I started coughing, grabbing at Sara blindly before she got away.

"Don't go. Please don't go." I had to think. Something that was virtually impossible, unless I wanted to think of dirty stuff about him, which I did amazingly well, even while sober. Unfortunately, that wasn't what the moment called for. It called for logic and...something else. Clear-headedness! That's what it called for.

Oh s.h.i.+t, was I in trouble.

Obviously, Hayden wasn't here trying to pick up random women because he'd asked for me by name, or by my fake name, or Sara's name, or... But how did he know I was here? And did he look as good in person as he did in pictures?

Oh s.h.i.+t. I thanked the judgmental hotel employee so he would go away. I had serious sobering up to do.

I leaned in close to Sara, steadying myself on the table next to us. "Sara, it's him. It's him him."

"Him who?"

"Him, my client. My...my whatever he is. Hayden Bennett. He asked for me. Well, he asked for you, but that's because I use your name." d.a.m.n it. I shouldn't have sent the hotel guy away. I should have told him to tell Hayden that he'd made a mistake and that no one named Sara Antonopoulos was here. "Whatever you do-don't go out there."

Sara's cheeks filled with air, and she slowly blew it out. "You're totally right."

"Thank you."

"You should." Sara pushed me toward the lobby. We caught up with the hotel guy easily, because he was bigger and not rudely shoving his way through the crowd like Sara was.

"Hey," she called out when we were close enough for him to hear. "We were kidding. She's Sara. Can you take her out? She's a bit wobbly."

"No," I begged. "I can't. I can't."

The guy took me firmly by the arm-probably hoping I wouldn't fall down and take him down with me, or just vomit on him-and dragged me away. I stared back at Sara, shaking my head.

Sara's only response was to mouth, 'You're welcome,' and smile. Then she turned her attention to a guy she'd been chatting with earlier.

Worst. Friend. Ever.

The hotel guy dragged me out of the loud bar and into the very, very quiet main lobby. It was like we'd entered a library. I shook him off, not wanting any more of his 'help.'

"Be aware that all of my Facebook friends will hear about the way guests are treated in this hotel. All four of them, mister. Got it?"

"Got it," he said, walking away while gesturing to my 6:30 or 7:00 where- "Oh s.h.i.+t!" I covered my face. One, so Hayden wouldn't see me being this drunk. And two, so I wouldn't see him being that gorgeous.

Life was so unfair. Here I was drunk and wearing hooker clothes, and there he was with his perfect hair and his perfect clothes that his perfect chest probably wouldn't bust out of the first chance it got. Although, in his case, I doubted anyone would mind. In my case...

Quick b.o.o.b check. Hands still over my face because yeah, that made so much sense. At least my b.o.o.bs were where they belonged.

"Hi." Even his voice was perfect. b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "I promise, being here is a totally innocent coincidence."

"Doesn't matter. Because I'm going to pretend you aren't here at all, and that this is just another fantasy-" Never drinking again. "Yep, I just said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Fairly loudly, too."

One of these days, I'd master the 'think before you speak' technique. Unfortunately, today was not that day. "Wow. Okay. Um...looks like you got your meeting after all." And I bet he was feeling really fortunate about that right now. "Aaaand step one is now complete."

"Remind me what step one is."

"Step one: I embarra.s.s myself."

"I'm not sure you've completed it then," he said, sounding a little closer than he'd been, but I couldn't look. "You're loud in a quiet place. I wouldn't have thought you embarra.s.s so easily."

"d.a.m.n, you're hard to impress. But I'm sure I'll come up with something even more delightfully embarra.s.sing soon." Not exactly sure what that would be. Except- b.o.o.b check.

"Am I so hideously ugly that you can't even look at me?" he asked. "Or do you want to play peek-a-boo?"

I laughed under the safety of my hands for a second and then came out from behind them. "How terrifying is it that you're not the first man who's asked me that?"

"I think he was referring to a much less innocent game than I am."

Innocent. Right. b.u.mmer.

Hayden had the kind of face you could stare at every day and never quite figure out. If you took any of his features and stuck them onto someone else's face, that person would instantly become ten times more attractive. So with all those parts on one face, it was kind of surreal, almost too- Oh c.r.a.p, how long had I been staring at him?

"Well, um...this is...awkward," I babbled. "But, then again, you did say you wanted to see me drunk. You should really be more careful what you wish for."

"Actually, I said I wanted to see you ugly drunk. And now I know that's never going to be possible."

I mumbled a quick thanks because I wasn't actually sure it was a compliment. I think it was. I think it was a really good one. But the shock of this meeting had only just started sobering me up, and I had a long way to go yet before I could judge sarcasm or irony.

He nodded toward the hotel's reception area. "Can we...talk a little?"

I paused, my sanity winning out over my incredible desire to scream, 'G.o.d, yes! Get us a d.a.m.n room already! What took you so long to ask?' Because that would be wrong, and I would wake up tomorrow with bigger problems than a hangover.

I spoke each word slowly, making sure 'take me, take me now,' didn't slip in there accidentally. "That might make it a lot harder for you to make sure step two doesn't happen."

He leaned forward slightly. "Remind me what step two is."

"Do you ever listen?"

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I waited, desperately trying not to sway too far over in my heels. I could use a sit-down, but not near a bed. All kinds of wrong could happen if I sat down with him on a bed.

"For some reason, I've been distracted lately." His gaze slid slowly down my body before he caught himself and snapped his focus back to my face. "Do you have a little time to fill me in on everything I may have missed?"

I swallowed. "Step two-that you'll leave our meeting regretting something."

"I think I would have more to regret if I left right now." He nodded to the center of the hotel again. "Just for a little while. Then I'll call you a cab or take you home myself."

"Wow, Hayden," I mocked. "You're going to get us a room and not even let me stay in it? How chivalrous of you. Why don't you just save some cash and do me in the elevator?"

His eyes widened, and he laughed. "I didn't mean- There's another bar at the other end of the lobby, a quieter one. I thought we could have coffee together. No room. No elevator. And, if it's what you prefer, absolutely no chivalry."

"Coffee." I wondered if he could hear the disappointment in my voice. "That's it?"

"That's it."

It was a bad idea. I was drunk and h.o.r.n.y-he was gorgeous and off-limits. For a number of reasons. "I can't. I'm here with someone."

His expression fell. "Oh, of course you are. I'm..." He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and making it look even better, less tamed. "My timing is bad. Perhaps another time."

"Let me think about it when I'm sober."

"I hope I didn't overstep my bounds." He looked lost for a moment. It didn't last long, but I'd seen it. Through the confident, controlled mask I knew he wore when he was with other people. I could see all the way to who I knew he really was-funny, charming, and...yeah, a bit lost.

"No lasting damage," I said. "But I should go get my friend."