"It’ll be a small team. Saff, Lock, that's you, pick two others. All your initial com setups are still there, so you will have the equipment when you get there. She’s headed to her favorite spa. You’ll go in as staff.”
“Security?” I asked.
Gabe shrugged. “I don't know anything about it, and neither does Webster. Be ready for anything."
"Anyone have any idea of her target?” I asked. “After slipping through our fingers, there is no way she’d turn back up in New York without an urgent reason."
“I’ve told you all we've got. You leave in two hours."
We all shuffled out, and Lock headed straight for his cottage.
I headed upstairs. I stepped in the elevator alone, but as the doors closed, a tiny delicate hand slipped through. "Oh no, you don't. You've got that I’ve been shagged face. Spill."
I swallowed hard and shook my head. "Nope. I do not have that face. Distinctly unshagged."
Tabatha laughed. "Bullshit. The way Lock was staring at you, he was practically salivating. He would do this thing where he looked at you, licked his lips, looked you up and down, and licked his lips again. Has he been eating out?"
I choked a laugh. "Oh my God, Tabs."
“Inquiring minds. And when was this?"
“I don't know what you're talking about, Tabs."
The elevator deposited us on the main floor, and as we strolled through the offices she kept the conversation to the new dating show on TV. But the moment we were in the residence, she growled at me. "Spill, woman. I need all the details."
"There are no details."
Except the problem was when I said that, I choked it out. A telltale sign I was lying. There were details. I wasn't going to tell her that though because she would judge me. She was my best friend, but she had a resting judgment face that was lethal.
“You have to tell me. It's been a while."
"Wait, what happened to that plumber guy? The one from the club you met three months ago?"
She shuddered. "Ugh, he kept insisting on seeing me outside of the arrangement where we just meet up for sex."
"That's probably because he liked you, Tabs."
"See, I didn't ask for any of that. I wanted regular sex on tap without any emotional entanglements. Why is that so hard?"
“You know, one of these days we are going to talk about just how fucked up we all are, but maybe not today."
“Yeah, not today because today we're talking about what you have been up to, little miss."
We marched to the living room, and I grabbed us a couple of sparkling waters. She frowned at hers. “I don't want this. I want wine."
"There will be no wine. I leave in two hours."
She groaned. "Tell me something before you get on that plane. Anything. I will take anything at this point. I am desperate."
I laughed. "Okay, fine. We shagged in the sparring room. Happy?"
"That's it?" She very dramatically threw herself back on the couch and rolled around. "Come on. I need more than that. Give me something. Mouth? Fingers? Where did he put his dick? Did you blow him? The way he was looking at you it was obvious he ate you out. But where was it? Are there surfaces in there I need to avoid?"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I need to pack a bag and get ready."
“You're not leaving until you tell me."
So I did tell her. And as I recounted the details for her, first her lips parted, then her jaw unhinged ever so slightly, and finally she was catching flies. "Holy shit, that is the hottest thing I have ever heard."