Page 43 of Charming Like Us
“Colette!” her mother whisper-shouts. “Viens ici maintenant!”Come here now!
Jack’s hand falls to my hip, leading me out of their way, while I root a hand between his shoulder blades—guiding him in my direction, further through the maze of the museum.
We breach the packed confines of the crowd, coming into a clear area. Both in lock-step together, we hustle down the hallway without full on sprinting.
When I reach the end, the hall splits towards Greek ceramics and a temporary exhibit hall.
I don’t see Charlie.
My pulse stays even, but I’m on high alert. Barely blinking. “We have to split up,” I tell Jack. “You take the cerami—”
“I have it, Oscar.” He understands, already exiting in that direction.
I shouldn’t…but I watch him go. Really, I’m craving to jog after him, but this isn’t the time to chase after a crush.
A crush.
That word again, and I almost careen my head back in frustration. In reality, I’m more poised for a serious hide & seek game with Charlie.Where the fuck did you go?
Carefully and urgently, I sweep the area, talk to the security guards at the exits, and then text Jack a meeting spot when I reach the ground floor beside the information desk.
I don’t know whether to be furious or concerned, so by the time I come face-to-face with Jack again, I’m full of pent-up emotion. Charlie ditching me. Fine. Charlie ditching me in the motherfuckingLouvre.Not fine. Not fine at all.
Jack shakes his head, face fallen in guilt. “I couldn’t find him.”
“It’s not your fault.” I pull out my cell.
“It kind of is,” Jack tells me while his fingers glide through his hair. “Before all of this, you said not to distract you.”
I did give him that threat. Only because I like doing my job well, and that means having clear focus on my client. But I fucked that one up myself.
“You didn’t distract me, Highland. I did that to myself when I agreed to take a selfie with a random woman.” Shouldn’t have done that. Technically, I did do itbecauseof Jack. I was trying to get over him. But that’s still not his fault.
I dial a number and press my cell to my ear.
“Oscar?” The older man’s French accent is thick. “Haven’t heard from you in months. I thought maybe Charlie fell out of love with the Louvre.”
“Hardly,” I say. “And you know I can speak French, Florent.”
“I know,” Florent replies in English still. “What do you need?”
“Charlie’s MIA. Can you see if he left the museum? Last known location was room 703, the Denon Wing.”
“It’ll take me a couple minutes. Can I call you back?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Florent.” I hang up and meet Jack’s confused gaze.
“That was the head of the museum’s security,” I explain. “He’s going to check the tapes. It’ll save us time from running around the place, if Charlie’s already hightailed it out of here.”
Jack looks impressed. “And you just had his number on speed dial?”
“If it’s a place Charlie frequents, yeah, I’ve got connections.” I check the time on my watch. “It’s the only way I can do my job well. Work smarter, not harder, Long Beach. Remember that.” I pat his chest, and we both tense.
We keep doing that.
I drop my hand, tension erecting. Thankfully other things aren’terectingright now.
Jack smiles a little. “I’ll keep it in mind. Tucked right next todistractions become extractions.”
