Page 95 of Green Flag
Well… that was a good point. I didn’t have anything.
“It’s a slow process.”
He scoffed. “Right. To be honest, Luca, you’re not exactly a detective, are you? I’ve got an international PI that I used when all that shit went down with the affair.”
That sounded awfully formal.
“A private investigator?” I laughed. “No, Gio, I don’t think so. I’m not planning on doing anything official with it, just a bit of casual blackmail for him to let me go.”
“I’ve already texted you their details.”
I groaned, head thrown back with a sigh. “Gio, please don’t get involved—”
“I’m not. A PI will be. I’ll see you for Christmas, yeah?”
I agreed and he hung up.
Christ.
This was not how I’d intended for this to go down. When Nazmin had mentioned the planes for America, Everly followed me back to my trailer and told me how we needed to be the first and last on that plane. We’d arranged an argument for the tale end of the journey, her ‘crying’ in the bathroom while I stood outside of the toilet, talking her through her panic. When everyone else alighted, we’d scoured the plane and spoken to the baggage handling crew about how we were desperate for her medication… picking out her dad’s luggage.
Because who would say no to someone crying? She excelled at anything she put her mind to. Today, it just so happened she was an actress.
She’d even planted her medication in his bag.
But when we took the suitcase to the side, there was nothing.
Though it wasn’t the only way he could sneak them over. Everly was in her element in the back of the taxi, snuggling into my side and texting on her phone for me to see.
EVERLY: I watched a show where they put pills in car airbags. Is there some way that he could be transporting them through the bikes? Pedro once said my dad hid them in the hold somehow.
I’d shaken my head and told her a mechanic would have to be involved. I couldn’t speak because my jaw was so tight over her mentioning Pedro of all fucking people.
She continued to come up with a multitude of ideas.What about his travel pillow? Could he have stuffed them in there? Could he have stuffed them inside himself?
By the end of her escalating ridiculous ideas, we were both sniggering into each other’s shoulders and I planted a too-natural kiss into her hair.
As I entered the hotel lobby, she wasn’t laughing. She was staring daggers at her father, her suitcase disregarded by thereception desk. The fists at her side trembled, and when I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she was as stiff as a board.
“What’s up?”
“He’s booked us one room,” she snapped, not taking her eyes away from my boss, who shrugged.
“You’re together, are you not?” he asked with a poorly acted frown, his voice too light. It was a test; this wasn’t a sudden acceptance of our relationship. “And when you come crawling back to me begging for a different room, the cracks will start to show.”
She leaned back into me, her breathing rapid. I stroked up and down the arm of her coat and her breaths slowed as her hand gripped my thigh.
He raised and lowered a shoulder. “At least this way, you can keep an eye on your boyfriend and check he doesn’t spend the night in anyone else’s room.” He turned to me with a disgusted snarl.
He knew it wasn’t what it sounded like. I’d been helping one of my closest friends who was going through hell.
But he would clearly use anything to cause friction between us.
She released a low, throaty sigh of exasperation, grabbed her suitcase and stormed over to the elevator. I went to follow her, but Cris cleared his throat.
“Break up with her,” he said, looking past me to Everly, who was huffing as she waited for the doors to open. Her eyes widened at me, trying to hurry me along. “Make her hate you. Despise you. And I’ll give you what you want.”
He had my full attention. “What I want?”
