Page 44 of Stealth Mission

He taps his fingers on the bar. “I’m very worried about you.”

Truthfully, it feels good to have his concern, but also scares me. Peter doesn’t need to be caught up in my gigantic cesspool of drama. It would kill me if something bad happened to him.

“Please, don’t worry about me. I know how to deal with this.Tell Elsa I’ll be in touch as soon as I have time.”

Before Peter has time to remark, I hurry away toward the main seating area. As much as I like the place, right now I’d rather be digging a hole for a fence post with a spoon. Aplasticspoon.

Rissa breezes past me, going the other way at her usual gate—full-speed ahead. “Good luck, hun. You must tell me where you got that dress next time I see you. Let me know if you need backup, I’ve got a mean throwing arm.”

She waves her serving tray as she continues zooming on, heading toward another table with a pair of tourists in bright colored T-shirts.

The vision of Rissa winging her sticker-decorated serving tray like a superhero shield is great. But my mood is too dark now. Gone is the flutter in my stomach Walt caused.

Too bad I’m not a different girl. Someone that could get excited about bumping into the tourist again.

Stiffening my spine, I head toward the private dining room in the back corner.I need to get this done so I can get back to work.

Chapter Eighteen

I rub my forefinger and thumb over my brows, tugging them together. Lack of sleep is making my brain weird.

Or maybe it was kissing Marianna last night. I haven’t felt right all day.

Doesn’t help that it’s hotter than blue blazes. Vandemora does humidity like Alabama.

Swiping my brow with my forearm, I turn the corner and skid to a stop. Oh, yeah. The ancient Toyota Land Cruiser is parked along the curb.

Hope springs eternal.

Ha.

Listen to me, all poetic. Jesus, what am I going to do next, start writing love letters?

Grinning, I approach Marianna’s dusty truck with excitement building in my veins. Will she be happy to see me?

Pushing my hands into my pockets, I look around.

My swim buddy would literally beat the hell out of me right now. Levi hates nothing more than someone who is distracted when they’re supposed to be concentrating on a mission.

I always agreed with him. Now, I’mthat guy.

After looking left and right, trying to decide which business Marianna might be visiting, I consider just parking myself against the fender of her truck and waiting.

Would that be creepy?

Yeah.

And I’ve got work to do. Course I’ll keep my eye on her truck too…

I pick the restaurant that Camile said showed up on the credit card report. When I cross inside the doorway, a surprising feeling of disappointment hits me. No sign of Marianna.

Instead the area in front of me is empty, minus a frowning bartender. Off to my right, a few people are dining at small square tables. A waitress with a mountain of curls on top of her head is laughing with one of the men.

With a grumble at my foolishness for being disappointed, I stride to the bar. I’ll make the most of the opportunity and actually do my job… versus following the lure to prowl around the whole building clearing rooms, looking for her.

The stool scrapes on the tile floor as I pull it out to take a seat.

Places like this are good for gathering intel. Loose lips. Keen eyes. A natural inclination toward gossip. The perfect place for me to inquire about MZ. Not asking for information about Marianna. I won’t stoop to that level of desperation.

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