Page 46 of Falcon's Prey

She stiffened.

“Let me go.” She shrugged off my hand, then ran into the car.

I took a step to follow her, but before I could do that, a man came running toward me with a bag like the one Ember carried.

“We have the perfect suit for you. Our house would love to dress Miss Remington’s new boyfriend.”

New what?

I took the bag and left before Ember could do something stupid. When I got in the car, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming obscenities. The partition blocked my view, but she would be able to hear what I said. I would not be giving her that satisfaction.

Driving back to the Hill, my phone started to ring. My stomach dropped when I saw the unknown number. No one unknown should be calling me, especially since this was the company phone.

“Speak,” I said.

“Idiota!” Pamela’s voice was easily recognized.

“Please tell me that you didn’t just call me on this line,” I barked.

I’d given her the number for emergencies for when I couldn’t be reached at my burner. I still had to find out if our company phones were bugged.

“It’s a fucking emergency when your fucking face is plastered all over the fashion section of the newspaper.”

Shit.

That defeated the whole purpose of keeping things low-key. I didn’t bother to say goodbye to Pam; I just ended the call. She was starting to get on my nerves, making me regret everything I’d done in her name. When we stopped at a red light, I typed Ember’s name in the search bar.

The result made me freeze, until the car honking behind me made me snap out of it. My head turned, surprised Ember didn’t say shit to me. I didn’t know how I knew, but this was the reason she was suddenly treating me like I had leprosy. The thought had me smiling.

Once at Hill Hotel, I parked the car and pulled Ember’s door open.

“Please tell me the whole boyfriend thing is not why you’re acting so strange today?”

When her face fell and her eyes widened, I started to laugh. “Shit, Ember, if I won’t fuck you, what makes you think I’d date you?”

“Get out of my way.” Her tone was missing the fire she usually carried, and she walked away, leaving me the bag in the backseat.

I grabbed it along with my own and trailed after her. Watching her backside, I was reminded of the feel of her pussy, the tightness around my fingers, and imagined how tight it would feel around my cock. She was so fucking tiny, I would destroy her, and I would enjoy it too.

The ride up was silent with Ember still giving me the silent treatment. Did I care? Only that my face was plastered everywhere, but not particularly. I mean, I was with her at all times, and probably kept her on a tighter leash than those before me. But Ember? She seemed almost rattled. She took the bag from me and walked up to her room. An hour later, someone was in the lobby.

I called the guy that was guarding the private entrance. “Did you let someone up?”

“Oh, yeah. Miss Remington’s stylist.”

Dipshit.

I waited by the door as the stylist walked in. He was young and skinny with bleached hair that looked white, bigger lips than a Kardashian, and eyeshadow that was neon blue.

“Whoa, you are even hotter in person,” he mused.

“Do you want to die?”

“Ohmigod.” He threw his head back on a loud moan. “You’re bossy.”

Shaking my head, I walked away to the control room.

* * *

---