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Ha-ha, true.
Aubrey
How’s the job search going?
Me
It’s in full force. I’m confident I’ll have something within the week. I’ve applied everywhere. I have to imagine someone is hiring.
Aubrey
With the résumé you have, your phone will soon be ringing off the hook. Anyone would be so lucky to have you.
Me
You’re way too kind.
Aubrey
I’m honest. Knowing you took care of the Daltons while I was gone was the biggest relief. You’re an awesome flight attendant, lady. I bet they’re going to be very sorry they don’t have another position for you.
I quickly checked the doorway and saw Brady heading for the car.
Me
Heart you.
I’ll keep you posted about the new job.
Aubrey
You better. xo
He slid into the driver’s seat, his hand going to my thigh while he gripped the steering wheel. “That will never happen again. They now know any package or mail has to go through Diesel or me—not you.”
“I feel sick to my stomach that someone just got in trouble because of me.”
He exhaled, the movement of air sending me a whiff of his cologne. “I didn’t fire anyone. I just lectured the hell out of them. And I also met with the head of security to tell him to pull the camera feed of the front desk. I want to see if that motherfucker walked into my hotel and handed over that envelope or if he had someone else do it.”
While he was breathing hard, I was holding in all my air. “What are you going to do with that info once you have it?”
“Do you mean, am I going to go to the police?” He shook his head. “No.” His hand left my leg and landed on the gearshift, the engine revving as he shifted into first and pulled out of the hotel. “To be honest, I don’t know what my plan is, but at least that will tell me if he’s in LA or if he’s having someone else do his dirty work.”
“And what about Diesel? Did you call him and give him an earful too?”
“No. And not because you wouldn’t want me to, which I know. But because you should have been safe in the fucking lobby of my hotel if my employees had just done their goddamn job.”
I tried swallowing the lump in my throat. “Brady … it’s him.”
He looked at me when he reached the Stop sign. “How do you know that?”
“Because he would never have anyone else put their eyes on me. He wouldn’t want them getting that intimate. He’s too possessive. Every bit of this, down to the handwriting on the card he sent with the flowers, is all him.”
“When you put it that way, I’m not surprised.”
I put my hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He glanced at me even though we were in traffic. “This isn’t your fault, Lily.”
