Page 62 of What About Love

Her gaze zipped around the room as she pulled on her rose satin robe. Were their cameras in the bedroom, or had he known what she was wearing from one aimed at the window?

The knock came again, more urgently. Barefoot, because she hadn’t unpacked her slippers, she hurried to the door.

The peephole was useless, revealing only the top of a blonde head.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Val.” A Starbucks logo appeared in her limited view. “I brought breakfast and other necessities.”

The bakery bag was replaced by a now-familiar white tube with blue lettering.

“Get in here, girl,” Angie called eagerly as she threw open the locks and chain. As Val bustled in, she peeked out into the hall. No one was there, but she knew she had eyes on her from somewhere.

“Carbs and caffeine?” she asked as she refastened all three locks.

“And whip-happy-evil-dom morning-after butt cream.”

Joining Val at the small kitchen table, she eagerly accepted the twenty-ounce venti cup Val handed her.

“Cinnamon Dolce latte, my fav,” she announced. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I hoped we had the same taste.”

Sipping already, Angie groaned in pure bliss as the warm sweetness hit her tongue, knowing a surge of caffeine would soon follow. “Valerie, my new best friend, you had me at the logo in my peephole.”

Laughter bubbled up and the curls in her long ponytail bounced. “Why did that sound filthy?”

Angie grinned back at her. “I’m surprised Master Eric let you come here alone.”

“I’m in charge of giving you the scoop. He is in a sublet across the hall, ready to break down the door at the first sign of trouble. And Lil T is with him.”

“I find it hard to believe he allows anyone to get away with calling him Lil anything.”

“A bit like calling Dwayne Johnson tiny, isn’t it?”

“A bit.” Angie grinned before taking another sip.

“Also, across the hall is where two men are monitoring 24-hour surveillance on your charming abode. Full disclosure, they can see and hear everything.” She surveyed the room with a grimace. “I’d really like to say I love what you’ve done with the place, but dayum, girl...”

“Gives shabby chic a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?”

“More like grungy gross, especially the green drapes. I believe my grandmother had a similar pair back when theMod Squadwas number one on TV.”

That made them both burst into laughter, which continued until Val’s phone vibrated.

“It’s a text from Eric,” she announced without looking. “My orders were, and I quote, ‘Breakfast, rundown, ass back to me.’” Glancing her way, Val rolled her eyes. In a whisper, she added, “I better get to it, Neanderthal man hath spoken.”

Her phone chimed with another text that she read aloud. “I heard that.”

She gave Angie a wide-eyed look then with a quirk of her lips, she shrugged. “We should eat before he stomps in, clubs me over the head, and hauls me out by my hair.”

Another alert sounded, which she promptly ignored.

“Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Nope.” Unconcerned, she dug into the paper bag. “In for a penny, in for a pound my mama used to say.” She pulled out a wrapped sandwich. “Again, not knowing what you like, your choice. Hearty or sweet? I brought both. Double-smoked cheddar bacon stuffed croissant, which is to-die-for, or a glazed cranberry-orange scone.”

“Do I have to choose?”

Val grinned. “Darned if I don’t like you—a lot.” She passed her one of each, along with several napkins. She pulled hers out of the bag, opened her coffee, and sat. While she sipped, she pointed to the other chair. “Cop a squat, babe. Unless you need the Arnica first.”

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