Notable (Smith High) (15 page)

I
couldn’t avoid Houston.

He kept handing me bottled water and insisting that I take it easy. It might have annoyed me how easily he was able to put aside our seven-minutes-in-heaven moment if he hadn’t been so
nice
in the immediate aftermath. He even handed me the television remote and didn’t snatch it back when I settled on some really terrible reality shows.

The kind that not even Jane would be willing to watch with me.

And when I started laughing at his snarky running commentary, he leaned back and seemed to honestly start enjoying himself as well.

If that was an act too, he had a much brighter future in Hollywood than I did.

Then again, Houston probably thought that our one measly kiss had messed with my head. On the list of things
not
to do with your favorite professor’s high school daughter, kissing her while she might be under the influence had to be ranked pretty high up there.

Telling her that the whole thing meant nothing, however . . . yeah, he didn’t seem to have any regrets on that score.

Still, if he wanted to pretend that we had shared nothing more than a few minutes in a crowded bar, he wouldn’t hear any complaints from me. I played it cool as the others began returning to the room because I had significantly bigger problems to occupy my time than deciphering a kiss-and-run college boy.

Just off the top of my head, oh right:
I had a gun-toting drug tycoon to bribe.

“So I think my trip to the bar paid off. I’ve got a lead,” I announced when Ben finally strolled into the room, towel dangling around his neck, looking ridiculously good in his damp board shorts. Amy dropped the book she had borrowed from the book exchange downstairs.

“Oh, really?” Ben plopped down in the empty sofa chair right near where the book had landed. Without bothering even to glance at the cover, he handed it back to a blushing Amy, who quickly tucked it into the crook of her arm. I had no doubt the English major would have her nose buried back in the pages the instant our meeting was over.

Might as well get right to the point.

“Yeah, I went to the bar and found a great source. There’s a guy who—”

“Found a source?” Houston crossed his arms in annoyance. “That’s your euphemism for flirting with total strangers and then nearly collapsing in a crowd of people? Good to know.”

I kept my expression neutral. “I flirted. It worked. I’m fine. Get over it. And now we know that there are a bunch of lawyers here planning a merger with, drumroll please—Rithisak Sovann.”

Liz streaked gold nail polish on top of her already colorful manicure. “That’s more than I was able to get. Everything was pretty boring in the gym. Just your basic hotel full of tourists.” She blew delicately on her left hand before turning to Ben. “What about you?”

“I met several rather extraordinary travelers.” Ben’s quickfire smirk left little doubt that he’d been amply entertained by his time spent poolside. “I didn’t learn anything Neal-related though. Can we go back to Chelsea? I think we all need a more detailed account about this source of hers.”

I wasn’t sure if Ben realized that he was riling up his best friend, or if he was purposely overlooking that fact. Either way, Houston tensed.

But there was no reason I couldn’t talk about it.

Since “nothing” had happened, I had nothing to hide.

Although that didn’t mean I wanted Ben prying too closely into my private life, especially since it was so obviously going nowhere. And the last thing I needed was for someone to forget the whole
What happens in Cambodia stays in Cambodia
rule and mention my not-so-little panic attack to my dad. So I merely shot him my most cryptic half-smile.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

And neither does a gentleman
. I hoped Houston was picking up on the subtext written in my steely-eyed gaze. If he told
anyone
about the kiss, which meant exactly nothing to him, I’d have to kill him.

“Um, Chelsea? You still with us?” Amy waved her hand in front of my face, and I tried to play off my absentmindedness with a dreamy smile.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Wesley. I think you guys are going to like him. He’s very sweet. And he’s got this whole experienced-older-guy thing going for him.” I would have sighed gustily, but I didn’t want to oversell it.

I didn’t think any further embellishments were necessary either.

Houston’s gritted teeth made it pretty clear that he had no trouble understanding my message:
Plenty of other fish in the sea for me to choose from. I don’t need you.

Maybe he would think of
that
the next time he felt obligated to stick his tongue in my mouth.

“Yeah, he’s a real keeper,” Houston growled. “Too bad you didn’t get his number. Such a shame. Oh well.”

“I’m pretty sure Wesley still wants to show me the temples here.” I winked at Amy just to see if I could make her blush. “We had a real, um . . . spiritual connection.”

Amy burst out laughing. “Of course you did, Chelsea. Why does that not surprise me at all?”

Maybe because I was an even better actress than most people thought.

“Weasel isn’t showing you anything.”

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, cowboy.”

Liz coughed. “I thought you guys were finally getting along. Using your words. Playing nice. Do you want us to leave the room again? We can hang out in the lobby until you clear the air.”

“Or the pool,” Ben suggested. “There might be some potential sources of information that I’ve overlooked there.”

“Houston and I don’t have a problem.” Ben snickered, and I realized that once again my words were a little too close to
Apollo 13
. “Seriously. Everything’s fine, guys.”

Liz never glanced up from her fingernails. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“Well, looks can be deceiving. Isn’t that right, Houston?”

He stared at me in silence, and for one achingly long moment I imagined how it would feel if he actually shooed everyone out and agreed to discuss the Cambodian-sized spider in the room.

Good. It would feel so freaking good.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Looks can be deceiving.”

“There you have it: We agree on something. My date with Wesley probably won’t happen anyway, because none of us are going to be in Cambodia much longer. All we need to do is send Rithisak Sovann a message during the merger meeting, and we can be on the next flight out of here.”

Ben tilted his head and began whacking his ear as if it was waterlogged. “You want us to pass a note to a known drug lord in the middle of a private meeting? We’re not exactly in middle school anymore, Chelsea.”

“So what? It sounds like fun to me!” Amy’s enthusiastic smile never faltered.

“Oh, Amy. If that’s your idea of fun, we need to get you out more often. A lot more often.”

It was
my
idea and even I wasn’t looking forward to it.

“What? I liked passing notes in middle school. Except for the ones with the check boxes to find out if someone liked you back. Those were brutal. But since we don’t care if a drug lord
likes
us, I think it’ll be fun!” Amy said. “Plus I’m kind of curious to see what a merger looks like in real life. Probably not all that different from the search committee to find a new professor for the history department, but—”

“We get it.” I couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “You’re a geek extraordinaire with the credentials to prove it.”

Amy seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. “Well . . . yes.”

“So how do you feel about taking the lead with this one?”

Her eyes widened, and for one second I was sure she’d stutter out an apology. Something short and sweet along the lines of
Thanks, but I’d much rather not.
Amy was all Bambi eyes and friendship bracelets and needlepoint and romance novels—the last thing she wanted was to be the one in charge of contacting a drug lord.

Or so I thought until I saw steely determination underlying the softness. “What do I have to do?”

I grinned. “Just be yourself.”

The rest of us could take it from there.

I
half expected Amy to have changed her mind by the next morning.

But not only was she determined to take charge of the situation, she actually burst out laughing when I called it a “high risk” scenario that warranted backup and asked which action movie I was quoting now.

Apparently, I’d lost my intimidating edge.

I didn’t think that was a good thing. Maybe Amy’s resolve hadn’t weakened overnight, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t desperately searching for a better alternative. Something that didn’t involve any of my friends going within one hundred yards of Cambodia’s most notorious drug-dealing psychopath.

I never should have mentioned the idea in the first place. Not when there were so many ways for everything to go horribly wrong. Considering the way my simple bar excursion the night before had included both a full-blown panic attack and a brawl, I should have insisted that we sit tight. We knew for a fact that Rithisak Sovann was in the building. There was no reason we couldn’t wait for the team of reporters Jane insisted were en route to break the story.

I didn’t have to keep scheming.

Amy
didn’t have to carry out one of my riskier plans.

Except I couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out for Neal in prison. Even if the promised reporters magically showed up within the next few of hours, their hands might still be tied. A group of American students abroad holing up with a Buddha full of drugs while they waited to prove their teacher’s innocence didn’t exactly scream Pulitzer Prize material. They needed actual
news
to cover. Something a lot more conclusive than our speculation that Rithisak Sovann was up to no good.

And since I didn’t want that story to include Neal’s death, Amy was our best bet.

We needed someone who could pass for a hotel employee interrupting the meeting to discreetly slip Rithisak Sovann a note before hightailing it out of there. Liz’s multicolored hair was a dead giveaway that she didn’t belong, and Ben’s muscular physique tended to catch a few too many female eyes. Maybe Houston could have pulled it off if he hadn’t started a fistfight with Aaron the night before.

Somehow I doubted Aaron or Wesley would forget about that anytime soon.

So it had to be Amy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked her for what had to be the millionth time.

Amy glowered at me, which didn’t really produce the intended effect because even irritation looked cute on her. “Absolutely. Now zip it, Chelsea.”

“But—”

“I’m fully capable of making up my own mind,
thank you very much!
I don’t need babying any more than you do, Chelsea.”

That finally shut me up. Amy was right. I hated to admit it, but I was acting even worse than Houston. She didn’t need me giving my best impression of a worried mother hen clucking over her baby chick. And I was the last person to be denying anyone an opportunity to face down their fears.

To prove to herself that she was so much more than the handful of descriptors other people applied to her.

“It’ll take me fifteen minutes to slip into the meeting.” Amy grinned at Liz. “Maybe less. Time me, okay?”

And then with a last cheery wave, she trotted off to the elevator as if she didn’t have a care in the world . . . or a blackmail letter for a drug lord.

It was the most stressful fifteen minutes of my life. The knot of fear in my stomach clenched tighter with each passing second as I imagined what Amy was doing.

By now she should have found the conference door.

I ran through the basic ballet positions five times before I allowed myself to glance at my watch again.

Okay, she should be opening the door and heading straight for the man at the head of the table. A simple “Excuse me, Mr. Sovann. I was asked to deliver this to you,” should do the trick.

First position. Third position. Fifth position.
Brisé.

Amy was heading swiftly for the exit. She wasn’t running, not even speed-walking. She just kept moving with a deliberate sense of purpose toward the door . . . then she pushed it open . . . closed it behind her . . . and maintained that speed until she spotted the nearest elevator.

Grand plié
. Fifth position. Third position.
Coupé
.

That’s when she finally started running.

She sprinted into the elevator, pressed every single button, but only rode up one floor before taking the stairs the rest of the way up.

Any minute now she would be knocking on the door, her face flushed from exertion, adrenaline, and an overwhelming sense of achievement. She would grin up at us and say the most annoying sentence ever spoken, “I told you so!”

Any minute now . . .

“You’re making me even more nervous, Chelsea!” Liz twirled a strand of blue hair around one of her fingers. “Do you think you could . . . stop?”

Not really, but I was willing to give it a shot.

“Fine, do you have a better way to pass the time, Liz? Anything. I’m open to suggestions.”

“Not really, no.”

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we play seven minutes in heaven?” Ben suggested.

None of us so much as batted an eye. “That’s not helping, Ben.”

“Are you sure? I think it’s a brilliant idea. What about spin the bottle? That one’s a
classic
.”

“Shut up, man,” Houston advised.

Ben threw his hands in the air. “
Seriously?
It’s like a freaking morgue in here. Amy’s delivering a message in the middle of a business meeting, not trying to infiltrate Al-Qaeda. Let’s keep things in perspective here, people.”

Liz and Houston both ignored him and focused on me instead.

“Do you think it’s going to work, Chelsea?” Liz asked in the same low, husky voice that I’d only heard once before when she’d mentioned Sara’s parents.

I resisted the urge to say something snarky like
You think I know the answer to that? I don’t know
anything
. Just ask Houston, he can confirm that for you!
There was absolutely nothing to be gained by confessing my fears. I would only succeed in freaking out the group, and since I was betting that even Ben was secretly worried, that didn’t seem fair to anyone.

Houston looked like he was nearing his breaking point. The last time I’d seen him this on edge he had kissed me like the world was ending. So I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. Especially since his bruised hand kept clenching into a fist, only to be forcibly relaxed when he caught himself.

“She should be here by now.” Houston growled as he made himself comfortable in one of the sofa chairs and claimed my laptop from a nearby table.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

He ignored me entirely and clicked on the most recent item in my email account. “Oh look. Jane says that there are
definitely
reporters headed our way. Apparently, they’ll be here by tomorrow evening at the latest. She doesn’t want us to do anything rash before they arrive. If Amy doesn’t get here within the next five minutes, I think we should probably go ahead and tell Jane that her warning came a little too late.”

“You’re reading my emails now?” My blood began to boil. “
Seriously?
That’s an invasion of privacy!”

“Yeah? Feel free to ask Weasel to sue me after your date.”

“Okay, I’m sick of this,” Ben said, cutting through the tension in the room. “Houston, you’re acting like a jackass. Chelsea . . . you’re not helping matters either. Now could you both
please
deal with your crap and move on?”

I opened my mouth to point out that
I
wasn’t the one poking around in anyone else’s business, but I was cut off by a hesitant series of knocks on our hotel door.

Everyone froze before we collectively breathed in relief.

Amy was back. It had taken her exactly twenty-three minutes to safely deliver the message—1,380 excruciatingly long seconds during which we’d been going out of our freaking minds.

But everything was going to be fine now that she was back.

Still, I had expected her to play it up. At the very least, I thought she would hiss, “It’s me!” or go for a dramatic, “I’m baaaack!”

Considering that this was her big moment of victory, she wasn’t making much of an entrance. So instead of unhooking the security chain, flinging the door open, and launching myself at Amy, I went up on tiptoe to spy through the peephole. Better safe than . . . well, dead.

Not Amy.

I didn’t even have time to register my disappointment because Liz knocked me out of the way. “What are you waiting for? Let her—who are
you?
”

Aaron smiled sheepishly and then winced in pain. The bruise Houston had given him the night before was a vivid shade of red. “Is this a bad time, Lake?”

Oh yeah, he could say that again.

“You don’t have to call security,” Aaron continued quickly. “I’m not here to make any trouble, Lake. I just came to apologize for last night. I have no idea how you could have been drugged, but I swear nobody at Brookes and Merriweather had anything to do with it.”

“Lake?” Ben murmured questioningly in my ear.

I barely jerked my head in assent, knowing that Ben would accept my new nickname without comment as long as Aaron was in the vicinity.

“I know you guys didn’t, Aaron. I had . . . well, let’s just call it an intense moment of claustrophobia, and my colleague jumped to the wrong conclusion. That happens more often than not with him.”

I could feel Houston’s glare burning into my back from where he stood behind me.

Luckily, Ben blocked him from Aaron’s view.

“So you weren’t drugged then?”

I shook my head and felt an absurd urge to smile at the look of relief that suffused his face.

“Not that I know of, Aaron. I’m fine.”

His shoulders instantly relaxed. “Good. I was worried that you might not be safe with the guy who dragged you out of there.”

I restrained from commenting that it had certainly taken him long enough to actually check up on me, while Liz peered down the hall in search of Amy. “How did you even find me here?”

“You, uh . . . mentioned your suite number to Wes. So I just thought . . . I’m sorry, this is a bad time, isn’t it?”

“Yes. If you don’t mind, we’re expecting someone,” Liz said sharply. “Visiting hours are over.”

“Of course. Sorry. I just thought I’d check in while I had the chance.”

I watched him turn and begin heading for the elevator, apprehension niggling at me with every step he took.

Something wasn’t right. All my instincts were screeching at me to figure it out, because this wasn’t a minor inconvenience like driving halfway to Steffani’s house only to realize I’d accidentally left my sunglasses at home. This
mattered,
and yet I was totally drawing a blank.

I wondered what Amy would have to say when I told her about...

My stomach dropped.

“Aaron!”
I yelled, halting him right before he stepped into the elevator. “I was just wondering . . . um, why aren’t you holed up with all the other lawyers at your merger? It sounded like a pretty big deal last night.”

He shrugged. “The guy we’re meeting here requested that we postpone while he handles some other matter. Although
request
is understating it, if you know what I mean.”

Liz froze next to me. “Did anything weird happen during the meeting?”

Aaron looked suspiciously at the two of us as he approached our door once more.

“Yeah, I guess. He left shortly after he received some message. Why? What’s it to you?”

I grabbed on to his suit jacket and yanked him inside the suite before he had time to protest. Liz locked the door and Ben stepped forward protectively.

“Hey, buddy. Good to see you again. How’s the jaw today?” Houston’s words sounded civil enough, but there was no missing the ice-cold glint in his eyes.

Aaron instinctively drew back. “I’m still pressing charges against you!”

Houston leaned casually against one of the walls as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “No, you’re not. Because then you will have to explain what exactly you and your buddies were doing buying that second drink for a minor.”

Aaron’s mouth dropped open comically as he gave me another once-over. “No way.”

“Actually . . . this time he’s right. It does happen on occasion.”

Liz pushed her way forward until she was right in Aaron’s face. “We don’t have time for this garbage right now. Where is she?”

“Where is
who?
”

“The girl who interrupted your meeting! Brown hair. Brown eyes. Medium build.
Where the hell is she?!
”

Ben interceded before Liz could strangle Aaron with his own tie. “We’ll get her back, Liz. I promise,” he said gravely.

Aaron stepped back and raised his hands as if he could ward off the craziness. “I have no idea what you guys are talking about, and I hereby state, for the record, that I want nothing to do with any of it. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

The guy was already practicing his testimony for the stand. Un-freaking-believable.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me very carefully, Aaron. This—right here—is one of those defining moments in your life. Today you’re going to find out whether you’re the kind of man who will sit idly by while an innocent girl is killed.” I intentionally left out all mention of Neal because I thought my words might have more impact if he pictured the nervous girl who had poked her head into the boardroom only a handful of minutes earlier.

“Killed?”
Aaron stared at us in disbelief before he burst out laughing. “Good one. Okay, did Joel put you up to this because of the whole email-attachment prank I pulled on him?”