Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little Secrets #1) (3 page)

“Casual?” I ask hopefully.
 

“Yes. Just you and me spending some time together.”
 

Okay, sure. Yes. I can do that. “I’d like that.”
 

“So,” he says, letting his gaze drift down to my lips, and further down towards my neckline. “It’s a date?”
 

I bite my lip to keep myself from grinning like an idiot, but it’s too late. “Yeah, it’s a date.”
 

“I’ll pick you up here?”
 

“At the bar,” I say quickly. I’ve got to check out of this room tomorrow because I can’t afford it anymore, but I don’t want to tell him that right now.

His eyebrows draw together, but he doesn’t question me. “Okay. Same time?”
 

I nod, running my hand down his lapel again. Seriously, his muscles. The suit. It’s such a good combination. “Same time.”
 

“Goodnight, Mia,” he says, as he pulls away. I manage to catch his wrist before he gets too far.
 

When he turns around, he quirks his eyebrow at me, totally amused. He was expecting me to stop him, and he knows what I’m going to ask.
 

“You aren’t going to kiss me?”
 

He leans in, until his lips are so close to mine, and all I can see, smell, and hear is
him
. He slides the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.
 

“Oh, I’m going to kiss you. You’ll be
begging
me to kiss you.” For a second, I think he’s going to brush his lips against mine. I feel maybe the smallest hint of them. “Soon. But not tonight.”
 

I groan, and let the back of my head thump against the door. This man is going to be the death of me. “Soon,” I repeat.
 

With a wicked grin, Caleb says, “I’ll make it worth the wait.”
 

My grandmother always told me that a watched pot never boils, which is true in my experience.

I can also attest to the fact that watched location searches never complete. Anxiously waiting on the edge of your seat to hear a dreadful ‘ping’ doesn’t make anything move any faster, no matter how much I wish it was so.
 

My laptop is sitting on the desk in the corner of my hotel room, cycling through the program that I’ve written to detect Andre Privya’s movement. It’s not entirely on the up and up, but this desperate woman is willing to employ desperate measures. It searches hits on credit cards with his name, and the location of the cell phone numbers that I managed to find for him. It’s not a foolproof method of figuring out whether or not he’s successfully tracking me down, but it’s better than nothing. If he goes anywhere while his cell phone is on, and uses a credit card to get there, I’ll know about it.

I try desperately not to think about what would happen if he uses cash and travels with a burner phone. Like I did.
 

On the middle of the bed, sitting with my legs crossed, I take in the lush surroundings of this hotel room. It was a splurge, one that I absolutely cannot afford. When I got to the city, I was scared out of my mind, and too nervous to go to one of the hotels that I could actually afford, which would include thin walls and a shared bathroom, and me jumping at every single noise outside of my room. I walked into this establishment and offered to pay cash just to rest for a few nights. I feel safe here, and don’t want to think about leaving. The only good thing is that when I leave tonight, it will be with Caleb, not alone.
 

Caleb.

It’s nice to know that despite my track record of making terrible decisions, that I’m still capable of making good ones, too. Like deciding to go down to the bar last night? That was an excellent decision. My mind was racing, and I could tell that I was on the verge of a panic attack, so I thought I’d slip on the one dress I managed to bring with me when I left Chicago, go down and have a drink to take the edge off. For a couple of hours, I wanted to pretend I was a person who didn’t have a care in the world. Fake it till you make it, right?

It worked.
 

Last night, I felt like myself again. I’ve only been running for four days, but they’ve been the four longest days of my life. It’s kind of amazing how easy it is to forget all about yourself when you’re in the middle of an incredibly stressful situation.
 

Then Caleb showed up, and I felt like
me
: twenty-three year-old Mia Briggs, computer programming phenom from Chicago, who is a capable, smart woman. Caleb made me feel wanted and sexy, two things I haven’t felt in a very long time. Of course, after our conversation in the bar, I thought we were headed for a one-night stand. He threw me for a loop when he didn’t even try to kiss me, but the thought that he wants more than just a quick fuck, well…that turned me on enough to make up for it. Which is a little strange, considering I’m not sure that I can give him what he’s looking for.
 

Actually, I am sure. I
can’t
give him what he’s looking for.
 

Caleb is a nice distraction, though, and maybe a distraction is just what I need. I’m an intelligent woman, I don’t have any doubts about that, but I’m having a hard time figuring out how to get myself out of this situation. In the past, whenever I was stuck on a programming issue, I’d spend a day at the movies, or hang out with a friend.
 

Now, everyone that I know is in a city that’s 800 miles away, under the impression that I was a last-minute addition to a big-time software programming contract with a company in London. These people are more than acquaintances, but I’m not particularly close with them. I know for sure some of them would question me just up and disappearing one day, so I concocted a cover story, just to be safe. Keeping them in the dark is the best way to protect everyone who knows me, even a little. I don’t think Privya would go to them looking for me, but better safe than sorry. If he does, and someone lets it slip that I’m in London, well…that’s another false trail for him to follow that will buy me more time here in New York.
 

There’s only one person in Chicago who knows even a little bit about what’s going on, and it’s time for me to give him a call. I reach into my pocket, and pull out the untraceable burner phone I brought with me. My fingers tremble as I dial his number.
 

“Hello?”
 

“Marcus, it’s me.” I’m speaking quietly for some reason, as if I’m worried about anyone on the other end somehow overhearing my voice.
 

Marcus lets out a long, audible sigh. “I’ve been worried about you,” he says. “Where are you?”
 

I pull a pillow onto my lap, and run my fingertip along the seam. “I think it’s probably better if I don’t say.”
 

“Okay, yeah. That’s a good idea.” There’s a long pause before he says, “Everything is okay here. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
 

Relief washes over me, like I’ve been doused with a bucket full of it. Just that small bit of news makes me feel better. “Thanks for letting me know.”
 

“No problem.”
 

Marcus and I have been best friends since we were kids, and we’ve never had a stilted conversation like this. It feels wrong. Off. Like everything in the world has shifted ten inches to the right, but I’m still standing firmly in place. “How’s your mom?”
 

“She’s better. We’re moving her into her new facility next week.”
 

I take a deep breath, and fight back the tears that are pricking at my eyes. “Good, I’m glad.”
 

“I wish you would’ve let me come with you.”
 

“No, my name is the only one attached to this,” I remind him. “At least you’re safe, and you can let me know what’s going on there.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even have a number I can reach you on!” Marcus says, his voice louder than it probably should be.
 

“I’ll call you in a day or two,” I tell him, trying to calm him down. “It’ll be okay.”

“And if it’s not? What if I don’t hear from you? What am I supposed to do then?”
 

I take a deep breath, because I don’t like thinking about that possibility. “Then I guess it turns out that coming here wasn’t so clever after all,” I say, trying to lighten the situation. I can’t have Marcus panicking too, I’m doing that enough for the both of us.
 

“Mia,” he says quietly, and I know what’s coming next. “Return the money, hide it as an accounting error or something. You can do that, can’t you? We’ll think of something else.”
 

“We’ve been trying to think of something else for months, Marcus. Time was running out, and I had to do something, okay? It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.” This is what I tell myself to not crumple up in shame and embarrassment at what I’ve done. “He deserves that and more for what he did to my dad, and to your mom. He’s the reason she’s in that facility; the least he can do is pay for it. It’s going to happen to someone else, and-”

“Mia,” Marcus says softly. “Thank you. I never told you that, and I should’ve.”
 

The tone of his voice, and the complete lack of judgment makes the tears prick behind my eyes. It would be nice to have him here with me; part of me wishes that I had taken him up on the offer, but there’s no sense in two of us getting mixed up in this when I can take the fall on my own.
 

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him. “She always treated me like I was her own. It’s the least I could do.”
 

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and I get the feeling that Marcus is fighting off the tears like I am. It makes the situation feel even more hopeless, but it also steels my resolve.
 

“I better go,” I tell him.
 

“Okay.”
 

“I’ll call you soon.”
 

I hope with everything I have in me that I can keep that promise.
 

The bar is busier than it was last night, and is chock full of gorgeous men in suits. Any other night, at any other time in my life, I’d be in heaven in a room full of men who look like this. Handsome, in well-tailored suits, talking shop with each other as they decompress from their workdays with drinks in their hands. Tonight, though, I’m only looking for one handsome guy.

I stand just inside the entrance, right behind a pillar, in an area that gives me a good vantage point of the room. I’m short—I can barely clear shoulder height of most of these men—so I’m having difficulty seeing through the crowd. I don’t know much about Caleb, but he seems like the kind of guy who would arrive early, just so I wouldn’t have to wait.
 

It only takes me a minute to find him. He’s sitting at the same table he found me at last night. I’m not sure why it didn’t occur to me to look there first, but finding him there lets me know that he’s not only punctual, but he’s probably a tad sentimental as well.
 

I’m pleased to find out that when Caleb said tonight would be casual, he meant it. He’s wearing a simple enough outfit, the kind of thing that I normally wouldn’t look at twice, but on him, it’s a mouthwatering combination: dark jeans and an emerald green henley that shows off the broad expanse of his muscular chest. The collar of the white t-shirt he’s wearing underneath peeks out, contrasting nicely against his tanned skin.
 

I thought the suit he had on yesterday was flattering to his build, but that was nothing compared to this.
 

My bag is slung over my shoulder, and I grip the handles tightly as I navigate my way through the clusters of people talking. The second that Caleb sees me, his whole face lights up.
 

“Hi,” we both say at the same time.

We repeat it again, and laugh at each other.

It feels so good to be here with him that, operating on instinct, I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his smiling lips. It’s nice, and soft, and perfect. When I pull away, my eyes are wide with surprise. I can’t believe I did that. Apparently, neither can Caleb.
 

“I’m sorry, I guess I just-”
 

Before I have a chance to finish my sentence, Caleb’s warm hands are cupping my face and pulling me in for another kiss. I open my mouth to him, loving the long languid kisses and the feeling of his velvet tongue against mine. I nip at his lip, and his hips buck against me. I want more of this; I don’t even care about the world outside of the two of us as long as I get so much
more
of this.
 

“Don’t apologize for that,” he says, after he pulls away. His eyelids are heavy with lust, and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. “Don’t ever apologize for doing that.”
 

I lean in for more, and Caleb indulges me, until someone beside us coughs loudly. I had completely forgotten we were in public.

When we part, I lick my lips, and slide the pad of my thumb across Caleb’s lower lip to wipe off the smear of my lipstick there. We both look at each other, panting a little. After last night, I wasn’t sure how our first kiss would happen, but now that I know what it feels like to kiss Caleb? He was right: I would’ve begged him to do it.

Now, though, I get the feeling that I won’t have to beg for anything at all.
 

“Do you want to get a drink before we go?” Caleb asks. His voice is a little husky, and the fact that I have that kind of effect on someone like him makes me feel powerful.
 

“Where exactly are we going?”
 

Caleb grins. “Does your answer hinge on my answer?”
 

“Perhaps,” I say with a coy smile. “If you tell me we’re going to do some kind of trendy date activity, like…I don’t know, couples trapeze or something, then my answer is yes. I want to get a drink before we go.”