Page 11 of Island Holiday

She could hardly argue with that. Since the debacle with her former boss, she hadn’t wanted to put down roots. Being in one place and falling into a routine felt dangerous. The idea gave her chills and she rubbed her arms. Relaxing and developing predictable habits would make it too easy for anyone to find her. She didn’t see herself ever shaking off her new-found vigilance or the compulsion to keep moving around.

“You can understand that, right?” he asked.

Her answer was basically irrelevant. This wasn’t about her. They were working together and—at least in her head—the clock was ticking. “Yes,” she said. “We’d better get to it.”

She picked up her bag and moved into the suite. Best to focus on the business at hand, but it was a tough ask with Connor right behind her. Tall, handsome, smart, and a tracking genius. Her mind kept flitting back to the elevator. What had he meant about her sisters not knowing her?

They knew everything they needed to know. Her childhood sucked. She’d gotten herself into and through college. Her first job had ended in a legal disaster when she turned into a whistleblower.

The person she was now was the person who mattered. Harper and Hannah accepted her, didn’t push her to share ugly details from her past. Hell, they helped her celebrate who she was these days. No, she didn’t own a home. Didn’t need to. Yes, her permanent address was the resort in South Carolina.

The two of them were her family. She’d done everything but legally adopt herself into the Ellington clan. When one of them called, she answered. And the reverse was true, as well. They knew all the important details from her weakness for hazelnut truffles to her fear of horror movies to her fondness for fried green tomatoes. Hannah and Harper were the only people she’d confided in about wanting to spend a month in Paris.

Those were the important things, the facets that made her unique. Connor couldn’t possibly have learned all of that by watching her cell phone signal bop from place to place.

She looked around the suite, assessing the workstation options. There was plenty of space at the countertop that divided the kitchen from the living area. In addition to the dining table, there were several comfy seating choices from the roomy sectional to a couple of wingback chairs grouped around the big screen television. She worked best on a couch, with her paper notebook at hand. Did Connor know that?

“Any preferences?” she queried.

“I’m happier at the table or counter.”

She thought sitting on a bar stool would be torture after a couple of hours, but she didn’t judge him. “There’s a desk, too.” She tipped her head toward the antique secretary in one corner, currently decorated with holiday greenery and figurines behind the glass fronted doors.

He gave it a long look. “I’d rather have the table, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me. I’ll take this corner of the couch.” She set down the backpack that served as a mobile office where she intended to sit.

“You choose the bedroom,” he said, moving to set his messenger bag in a chair at the table.

Having reviewed the layout online earlier, she moved directly toward the suite she preferred. He followed her to the door, then rolled her suitcase over the threshold.

With a thank you, she took the suitcase and explored a little, turning on lights and taking stock of the space. A sparkling ceramic Christmas tree was staged on the dresser, next to a smaller television. Walking to the window, she admired the city before pulling the sheers closed. The view was gorgeous, Charlotte gleamed in the afternoon light, but even up here, she felt too exposed.

She unzipped her suitcase and pulled out her toiletries case. That’s as far as she ever unpacked. Maybe Connor was right to be concerned about her. Living out of a suitcase probably wasn’t the healthiest of mindsets.

But she liked it. Didn’t she?

Tugging on her lip, she moved back to the windows. Did she really thrive on all the travel, or had she only fooled herself into believing she was the adventuring, wanderlust type? Not the point, she scolded herself as she returned to the main room to get back to work.

Her eye caught on the tree as she walked by. Noticing the cord, she flipped the switch. The sparkle turned into pure holiday magic as the tree turned, the tiny lights on the branches tossing colors throughout the room like confetti.

Something inside her went soft with nostalgia. The decoration made her think of the Ellington aunts and all the beautiful items and treasures they displayed during the holidays. Some were true heirlooms, others filled with fond memories. Any interest or comment would spark stories of family antics that had become legends.

She marched out of the bedroom and found Connor setting up his laptop at the table. “Why are you available to do this?”

“Is this location relevant to any of the women Zimmer recruited?”

His question collided with hers and as he studied her, she grappled with just how far off her focus had wandered.

“Um.” She swallowed. “No.” His question was actually relevant. “I can only assume they wanted someone to take the suitcase through the Charlotte airport.”

“You’re the only one with ties to this city?”

“As far as I know. Although Zimmer doesn’t know I exist.”

One of Connor’s eyebrows arched. “Heshouldn’tknow.”

“Right. That.” She straightened, relieved that he was ignoring her query. “I don’t know how he could. Yes, I’ve been rooting through his finances, but that’s all behind the scenes.” She’d been careful not to leave any technology breadcrumbs behind.

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