Flowering - Part Five
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
A thin, gentle drizzle begins to fall from the sky, showering lightly down on the midnight city beyond the windows. It does nothing to stop the movement of the crowds below. This is a city that doesn’t slow down.
My heart is racing, trying to match its pace.
“Shit,” Ralph murmurs, his eyes sweeping over Brent. “I don’t really look like this guy at all, do I?”
Undeniably true. Ralph has a few inches of height on Brent. Shorter hair. Their faces look nothing alike, especially now that Ralph has lost that slight alcohol bloat that had been softening up his jaw. His face is sharper, now that the finer points of his bone structure are showing through.
It only separates him further from the real Brent, who has much softer features. And while Brent hasn’t opened his eyes, I know from my glance at his passport picture that they’re blue. Ralph’s eyes are a dusky grey-green, like sage, or oakmoss. And they darken up further when he’s worried, like he is right now.
“Well, maybe it won’t matter,” I answer, anxiously twisting the ring around my finger. “You already convinced Kate.”
Ralph shakes his head at me, then turns and strides towards the living room.
“It’s not just Kate who needs to believe us,” he says over his shoulder, as I hurry after him. “The hotel needs to believe us. If I’m gonna walk through that lobby and ask to open that safe, we need a good mix of people to think that we’re Brent and Carter. We’ve gotta reinforce it in their minds over and over again, every way we can.”
Ralph stops in the kitchen, running his eyes over the obscenely expensive bottles of alcohol that Brent and Carter must’ve bought.
I gasp as Ralph opens a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, tips it over the sink, and starts pouring it out.
“Ralph!” I sputter, pressing my fingers to my cheeks. “That’s like, two hundred dollars worth of scotch that you’re dumping down the drain!”
“Think, Keane!” Ralph says sharply. “Brent and Carter are piece of shit rich-guy party boys with no respect for anything, right? The kind of guys who wanted a real-life tiger for a house party they threw? And tonight is Carter’s bachelor party celebration? We have to make it look like that’s who this room belongs to.”
I stare at Ralph, realizing that he’s right. He sets aside the half-empty bottle of Johnnie Walker, seizes a different bottle, and starts splashing alcohol onto the pristine countertops, then on the floor.
“This was good,” he tells me, pointing to the smashed fruit display. “Do some more of that.”
I shift from foot to foot for a second, then dart over to stand beside Ralph at the counter, where I shove over an ornate display of cheese and chocolate. Ralph lights up another cigarette, then immediately stubs it out on the shining kitchen countertop. I take two crystal glasses from the countertop and set them out for Ralph to splash some booze into, so it looks like we actually drank all that scotch, not just poured it down the drain.
My heart is aching with anxiety, but I’m doing my best to hold myself together.
“What’s our plan?” I ask.
“Well, first we’ve gotta wreck this place.” Ralph reaches up to one of the framed works of art on the wall, bats at it with his palm. It slips off of one hook, swings down to hang lopsided. “Then we’ve gotta find more people to convince that we’re-”
Ralph stops still, having caught a glimpse at my face. His eyebrows shoot up, his eyes widening.
“Jesus Christ, Keane! The fuck is wrong with you? You look like you’re gonna burst into tears.”
“I - I’m-” I bite down hard on my lip and press my fingers to my cheeks, struggling to try and calm down. “I’m fucking worried about you, man! You could get in such big trouble, helping us with this!”
Ralph opens his mouth to answer, then stops, staring at me with startled eyes.
I recognize that we need his help. I know that. Even on a bad day, Ralph is a superior liar, and that’s what we need tonight.
He’s done a brilliant job so far, hitting Brent’s arrogant attitude with pinpoint accuracy. Kate bought it completely. She went away hating him, but that’s not a bad thing. Guys like Brent and Carter are never what you’d call wildly popular among the staff of the places they visit.
Ralph hasn’t missed a beat.
And I know that he wants to do this, for Calla. That he’s already weighed the risks, understood them, and made his choice.
But still, I can’t help myself. I’m terrified on Ralph’s behalf, thinking of what could happen if this goes wrong.
Ralph is apparently taken aback to hear that this is the cause of my extreme and obvious distress. He looks at me with narrowed eyes, like he’s not sure whether or not to believe me - and then he suddenly seems to remember my absolutely abysmal performance when I tried to lie to Kate. He knows full well that I can’t say what I don’t mean.
He looks more than a little perplexed, but he shakes his head, pulls himself back into the present.
“Okay, just-” He hesitates, starts to hold out a hand towards me, then hastily drops it. “What is it gonna take for you to calm down? To get the nerves out of your system?”
I know the answer instantly, without having to think about it. “Aiden.”
Ralph pauses, then lets out a little laugh, like he should have guessed.
“Alright…” He thinks hard for a moment, then turns and opens Brent’s wallet. “Alright.”
There’s a hotel room key in the wallet. Calla must have been using Carter’s to get in and out of the suite. She left it on the countertop for us before she took off.
Ralph takes one of the two room keys, gives me the other, then holds out his hand. “Gimme your phone.”
I hand it over to him, confused. “For what?”
“So I can put my number in it. We need to be able to stay in touch.”
“Are we splitting up?”
“You need to see Aiden, right?” Ralph dials himself from my phone, calls, and hangs up. “Fine, go see him. If he and Calla are checking out how to get access to the safe room, they’re probably in the lobby. Don’t fuck up what they’re doing, obviously. Scope it out first.”
“What - leave you here alone?” I ask anxiously. “What if someone-?”
“Jamie.” Ralph peers intently into my eyes, startling me into silence. “I can handle myself. Okay? This is gonna go real smooth, if we just stay calm and stick to the pl-”
He breaks off sharply as the fire alarm begins to wail.
Ralph and I snap our gazes upwards in tandem as the smoke detectors start flashing their bright warning lights. They’re definitely not just going off in this suite. The alarm is for the whole hotel. I can hear the sharp trilling sound of it echoing through other floors.
Ralph and I stare at each other, wide-eyed - and then the alarm abruptly goes silent. The lights stop flashing.
“May I have your attention please,” comes a cool, automated voice. “The emergency alert has been canceled. We apologize for the disturbance.”
Ralph and I stand there in slack-jawed silence for a second or two, the alarm still echoing in our ears.
“What are the odds that Aiden and Calla caused that?” I ask.
Before Ralph can even answer, a knock comes at the hotel room door.
We exchange a sharp look, frozen to the spot. Then I turn and head for the door, swallowing hard. At the last second I shed Carter’s jacket, realizing that it’ll look weird for me to have it on when we’re supposedly chilling and trashing our hotel room.
I open the door with no idea of what to expect, and find a woman I don’t recognize waiting outside.
She’s pretty, with long waves of shiny hair. She’s wearing a winter jacket, but from what I can tell, she’s very scantily dressed beneath it. She’s wearing heavy makeup, with a bright smear of glittery eyeshadow over each eye. High heels that put her almost at an even height with me.
She’s trying to smile, but for some reason, it’s not very convincing.
“Hi,” she says, subtly striking a little pose in the doorframe. “I’m Misty. Are you Brent and Carter? You guys called over to the club, right? Asked for a dancer to come to your room? Private show? I heard it’s someone’s bachelor party.”
I stare blankly at Misty, then slowly turn to look at Ralph.
He’s frozen, but he recovers much more quickly than I do. In a split second, he’s got his Brent expression and attitude back in place.
“Fuck yeah, Carter,” he says, with a lazy grin. “Looks like the entertainment is here. Come in, Misty. Could you give me a sec with my boy, though? Just wait right there by the door.”
Misty nods at the bedroom, where Carter and Brent are currently unconscious. “Should I go get changed?”
“No!” Ralph and I both answer instantly, and Misty blinks, staring at us.
“Um.” Ralph lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry, princess. We’re a little drunk. Just give us a minute, alright?”
Misty shrugs, sets down her bag, and leans back against the wall by the door. “You’re paid up for the whole night, so. Take your time.”
Ralph nods at her, then takes me by the shoulder and steers me back into the bedroom.
“Holy shit!” I whisper-shout, as soon as we get there. “Did Brent and Carter call for a stripper to be sent over before Calla knocked them out?”
Ralph gestures wildly at the living room. “I mean, fuckin’ looks like it, yeah!”
“What the fuck do we do?” I glance out at Misty, increasingly alarmed. “Just - give her a tip, send her back? There’s probably some cash in Brent’s wallet, right?”
I can tell that Ralph is thinking very fast. He pushes a hand through his blonde hair, then shakes his head.
“No, man. This could help us. She could help us.”
I stare up at Ralph, wide-eyed. “Um. Okay. What?”
“She already thinks we’re Brent and Carter, she doesn’t need convincing!” Ralph stabs a finger in Misty’s direction. “And that is the exact type of girl people would expect to see Brent and Carter keeping company with. I told Kate that we hang out with Playboy model types, right? So - bring Misty with you downstairs to go find Aiden. Show her off.”
“Wh- are you fucking serious?”
“Yes, dude! It’ll look suspicious if we send her back right away, anyways! The hotel people let her up to the room, they’ve already seen her, they know who she came here for!”
I stare at Ralph, then turn to look at Misty. She’s anxiously picking at her glittery manicure, gazing around at the extravagant, fucked-up hotel room.
“She looks upset, doesn’t she?” I whisper to Ralph. “Like she doesn’t want to be here at all.”
“Well - she’s here alone, with two strangers.” He shrugs his shoulders, folds his arms over his chest. “Most clubs send security with their girls when they do private shows, I think. Brent must’ve called the kind of cheap fuckin’ place where the girls get sent out alone. Which makes sense, ‘cause it sounds like Brent can’t keep his hands to himself.”
“Oh. Ugh.” I wince at Ralph, hesitate for one more second, and make a decision. “Okay, fine. I’ll take her downstairs. Maybe she’ll feel better down there. What are you gonna do?”
Ralph thinks it over.
“I’m gonna rummage through Brent’s bag, get a better idea of who he is. Maybe talk to Kate again, see if I can get some information out of her.”
“Fine, but don’t be suspicious.”
“Me?” Ralph’s eyebrows fly up in disbelief. “You’re telling me not to be suspicious?”
“Yeah, I am!” I answer heatedly. “And you better not!”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Keane?”
We quickly devolve into a furious, heated argument, all in whispers, the volume of which swells until Misty glances over at the bedroom, arching an eyebrow.
“Guys?” she calls, uncertain. “Everything alright?”
Ralph and I look at each other for a second, then hurry back out into the living room. Ralph stops near the kitchen counter, but I cross directly to Misty. She straightens up, tries her best to pull a sexy smile onto her face.
“Hey, Misty!” I say, reaching for Carter’s jacket. “So, um-”
“You’re the one who just got engaged, yeah?” Misty asks. “It’s your party, tonight?”
“That’s right,” Ralph quickly answers, jumping in to prevent me from trying to lie.
Before I can blink, Misty takes a pair of handcuffs from her jacket pocket and slaps one of them onto my wrist, locks it closed.
“You get the first lap dance of the night, then!” She winks at me, then spreads a hand on my chest. “Which chair do you want me to lock you to?”
“Oh, oops! Um-” I hastily retract my wrist and take a stumbling step back, my cheeks burning. “Nope, no no no, that’s not - um-”
I look to Ralph for help, then fight down the urge to flip him off when I see him suppressing a laugh behind his hand.
Misty glances between us, confused, and Ralph swiftly pulls himself together.
“Misty, something came up that I’ve got to take care of,” he tells her, leaning back against the counter. “You mind keeping my friend Carter company in the meantime? Don’t mind him if he’s acting weird, like just now. He’s shy.”
“Um - alright.” Misty tosses her long, shiny hair over her shoulder, tries to smile at me. “Whatever you want.”
“Great, let’s go downstairs,” I say quickly, yanking Carter’s jacket back on.
I double-check that I’ve got my phone and my room key. Then Misty takes my hand, and I lead the way to the door.
I look at Ralph over my shoulder, mouthing at him - be careful. He nods at me, telling me with his eyes to do the same.
“Oh, and Misty,” Ralph calls, as I open the door for her. “You need anything at this hotel - anything at all - just drop my name, alright? Brent Windsor.”
Misty nods at him, swiping a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, okay. I will.”
~~~~
Honestly, how did I get here?
I’ve just left Ralph to finish trashing a penthouse hotel room, working his way around the two very wealthy, very unconscious people sprawled out across the bed. I’m in the elevator, holding the hand of a stripper who looks about ready to have a nervous breakdown. I forgot to ask her to take the handcuffs off of my wrist, and they’re hidden up one sleeve of my jacket.
I’m glancing up at the smoke detectors, wondering if Aiden and Calla are the ones who briefly set them off.
All this, and we’ve barely even gotten the heist off the ground, yet.
“Are you alright?” I ask Misty, who quickly smiles at me.
“Yeah, I’m fine! Where are we going?”
“I’ve just - gotta meet up with someone real quick. If you don’t mind?”
Misty stares at me, baffled, but nods.
As soon as the elevator doors open, I stride out into the lobby. I’m in desperate need of my Companion Plant.
I make it a few fast steps, then abruptly slow myself down. Rushing around is only going to attract attention.
But I’m dying for Aiden, and I have to actively force myself to walk slowly through the lobby with Misty.
The lobby of the White Diamond is staggeringly opulent, like all the rest of the hotel. Shining white stone floors, massive flower displays. A towering glass roof, dusted lightly with raindrops from the drizzle coming down. An enormous, round fountain is placed at the center of everything, water gliding and dancing and falling in graceful formations.
Expensive shops with glass fronts line the wall across from the guest elevators, the window displays highlighting luxury clothes and jewelry.
People are everywhere. Dressed-up guests are headed in every direction. Hotel staff are bustling around, everyone in a hurry. Managers and bellboys, concierges, people working behind the check-in counter. I see a handful of private security people, too, scattered throughout the crowd. They’re all wearing jackets identical to the one that Calla gave Aiden.
I run my eyes over the ones I can see, but I know right away that none of them are him. I don’t see him anywhere in this lobby, and I don’t see Calla, either.
“So,” Misty says, clearly feeling pressure to strike up a conversation with me. “You just got engaged, right?”
Oh, god. I’m gonna have to be creative about how I answer questions, without anyone here to step in and save me. Selective honesty is my only hope.
I look down at the ring on my finger, then look up at Misty again.
“What can I say?” I answer. “I’m in love.”
“Aw.” Misty tries her best to smile at me. “Found someone special, huh?”
“God, yes.” I smile back at her, my heart filling up with warmth at the thought of him. “The most special person in the whole world, to me.”
Misty looks confused again. She glances down at our intertwined hands. Doesn’t answer.
We weave through the crowds nearest the rotating doors, and I glance out through them. I don’t see Aiden or Calla outside. Did they go out through the back employee entrance where we came in, for some reason?
If so, I can’t follow them. I don’t have the employee keycard, and I don’t want to take Misty out to some dark street with no explanation. She already looks stressed out enough.
Actually, it’s too much for me to ignore. I know I’m supposed to act like a jerk, but my heart insists that I do something about this.
“Hey.” I come to a stop, drawing Misty out of the flow of the crowd. “Seriously, is there anything I can do for you? You seem so uncomfortable.”
Misty looks at me like she’s trying to figure me out, but something in her eyes softens. “I… really, I’m alright.”
“Okay. Well - let me know.”
I let go of her hand, in case that’s what was making her unhappy. I cast my gaze around for Aiden again, but I don’t see him, which means I need to call him. I need to distract Misty for a minute or so.
My eyes land on the luxury stores spangling the lobby.
“Want to go in there?” I ask Misty, nodding my head at them. “Kill some time? The person I’m looking for might be a minute.”
Misty nibbles her lip, then wraps her arm around mine, takes my hand again. “Sure.”
We step together into the first shop in the row, a clothing store. Everything in here is beautiful, intricate, extravagant.
“You want me to help you pick something out for your fiancée, Carter?” Misty asks, trailing her fingers over a shimmery jacket.
“Oh, no,” I answer immediately, and then, scrambling for an explanation - “I don’t have my wallet.”
“Carter?” someone says, from behind me. “Carter Sibley?”
I whip around to find a shop employee standing there. He’s behind the counter, organizing the jewelry in the glass cases, but he’s paused to look up at me.
“That’s him,” Misty answers, with a nod at me.
The employee slowly straightens up, his eyes on the expensive jacket I’m wearing. “You’re here with the Windsor party, aren’t you?”
Misty nods, running her eyes over the clothes on display. “Yeah, he is. We’re in the penthouse. Brent is upstairs.”
“Oh, well, welcome!” the guy says excitedly, closing up the glass case. “How nice to have a VIP in the shop! You don’t need your wallet, Mr. Sibley. We have Brent’s card on file for the room. We’re happy to charge any of your purchases here to it.”
“Oh, okay.” I look over at Misty, not sure what to do. “Then - yeah, sure, take a look around. Let me know if you see anything good.”
“Everything in here looks good. What’s your girl’s taste?”
“Just, um. Just pick what you would like!” I hustle back towards the door. “I’ve gotta make a phone call real fast!”
Misty wanders deeper into the shop, and I step back out into the lobby. I dial Aiden, but he doesn’t answer.
Swearing beneath my breath, I turn back to face the store - then freeze when my eyes fall on Misty.
She’s all the way in the back of the shop, turned away from me. But I caught a glimpse of her face, and now that she’s not actively hiding her feelings from me, she looks beyond upset.
I stride back into the store and go directly to her, moving as fast as I can without causing a scene.
“Hey.” I give the sleeve of her jacket a gentle tug, turning her to face me. “What’s wrong?”
Misty looks up at me, caught by surprise. Her lip trembles, and she bites down on it, then takes a sobbing sort of breath.
“I - I’m sorry,” she stammers, speaking all in a rush. “It’s just - Brent books someone from my club every time he’s in town, and all the other girls who have danced for him before say that he’s awful. Just - mean, and nasty, and - hands-on… No one wanted to take the gig tonight. But I - I really need some cash, because I’m moving back home tomorrow and that shit is expensive. I thought I’d be fine, I’ve got a thick skin - you have to, in this job - and normally I really like my job, but now I - I-”
She stops, takes a staggering breath.
“I don’t know,” she says, in a thin, wobbly voice. “It’s not you. You’ve been surprisingly nice. It’s just - as soon as I said I would go, I wished I hadn’t.”
I stare at Misty for a long moment, then turn and wave at the guy behind the counter. He had answered a call on the shop phone while Misty and I had our hushed conversation, but as soon as he sees me trying to get his attention, he hangs up.
“Hi,” I call. “You said anything we buy here, we can charge to Brent’s room?”
He nods at me, smiling widely. “That’s correct.”
“Great.” I turn back to Misty. “You know what? Buy yourself something. Anything you want.”
Misty jerks her head back, staring at me. “What - seriously?”
“Yeah. I think that Brent owes you that much, for the stress he’s caused you.” I point to the pair of shoes she had picked up, which are dangling from her fingertips. “You want those? Get them. Get whatever you want, and then we’ll send you home for the night. No performing for Brent. You can get an early start on packing up for your move.”
Misty stares at me in blank disbelief, then slowly breaks into a little smile.
“Really? Wait, but - won’t Brent call the club tomorrow, complain about me? Even if you tell him you said it was okay, he might be pissed off.”
“You said you’re leaving that club anyways, right?” I ask. “Moving out of town? And he doesn’t know your real name, does he? Unless - is it actually Misty?”
She shakes her head, tucks a long strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s - Agatha.”
“Agatha.” I fix her with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. Go shopping.”
Agatha stares at me for another second, her smile slowly widening. She laughs softly, then turns and waves at the guy behind the counter.
“Hey!” she calls. “Do you have these in size eight?”
He looks at the extremely expensive pair of shoes in her hands, then scurries over at a speed that tells me the employees at this store make commission on their sales.
I step back, happy to see Agatha feeling better - then look down sharply as my phone starts to vibrate.
Relief floods through me when I see Aiden’s contact picture. I leave Agatha with the shop employee and cross over to the now-abandoned counter, get myself a little space.
“Aiden!” I whisper, my voice weak with relief. “Thank god!”
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he rumbles. “Calla and I left the hotel. She’s standing out too much. We need to get her a fancy enough outfit to blend in, but all the stores we can find around here are fucking expensive. She’s deciding which one would be the easiest to steal something from.”
“Oh, I’ve got the answer to that question,” I answer, keeping my voice to a whisper. “Brent’s card is on file at the lobby shops. Just come here, Calla can pick out whatever she wants. I’m here as Carter, right now.”
“Shit, really? Hang on - let me go get her before she strikes.” Aiden huffs out a laugh. “Problem-solver, aren’t you, Keane?”
His laughter, even over the phone, falls like a warm blanket over me.
“Sort of,” I tell him, glancing over my shoulder to make sure that the others are still busy. “It - hasn’t exactly gone to plan over here. Did Calla tell you about Ralph?”
“Yes! What the fuck? I don’t fucking believe it.”
“A lot of stuff has happened that you wouldn’t believe. I’m in the lobby, buying some shoes for a stripper-”
“What?” Aiden sputters.
“Wait, is stripper the respectful word? I just realized that she called herself a dancer. Should I be saying that?”
“Um,” Aiden says, clearly struggling to keep up, “Well, if you're trying to impersonate one of Brent's friends, you should be using the most disrespectful terms possible, no?”
“Fuck no, absolutely not! There are some things I won't do, no matter the circumstances.”
“I know,” Aiden sighs affectionately. “One of the many things I love about you.”
My heart flutters, pushing against my ribs like it could get to him. “How are you guys doing? Did you set off the fire alarm?”
“Oh, god. I’ll explain when we get there. I had some time to read up on Calla’s research on Brent, by the way. Guy’s a real piece of work. Apparently some environmental protestors showed up when he wanted to bulldoze this big stretch of forest for his latest house? Some of them egged the bulldozers, and Brent tried to get his dad to bring terrorism charges against them.”
I wrinkle my nose, then turn as Agatha taps my shoulder. She sets the shoes down on the counter, in size eight.
I cast my eyes around at the store. “Is that everything you want?”
Agatha hesitates, then flashes me the price tag on the shoebox. The number is staggering, but - Brent’s card is on file. And after what Aiden just told me…
“I said get anything you want,” I remind Agatha. “Not one thing you want.”
She stares at me, then rushes off excitedly back into the store. I turn away again, speaking quietly into my phone.
“Tell me you’re gonna be here soon, babe. I need you.”
A pause, and then a soft, affectionate little exhale from Aiden’s end of the line.
“Hang in there, Companion Plant,” he murmurs. “I’m on my way. Promise I won’t keep you waiting.”
I let out a long breath of relief as I end the call, then freeze as I glance out at the lobby. Ralph is walking by, striding along next to a very irritated-looking Kate.
I slip out through the open door of the shop and linger in the lobby, hoping to catch a bit of their conversation.
“-was just wondering if you’ve seen my dad?” Ralph is asking her. “He’s not answering his phone, so I don’t know where the fuck he is.”
“Yes, I have. The Attorney General left the hotel a few hours ago.”
“Any idea when he’ll be back?”
“No, but I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Kate glances up at Ralph, clearly straining to keep it civil. “Would you like me to let the front desk know that you’re looking for him? They can send him up to your room when he arrives.”
“Mmm… maybe.” Ralph pretends to think it over, then shakes his head. “No, nevermind, it’s alright. We’ll probably have left for the night, by then.”
That’s the last I hear before the crowd swallows them up. I stare after them, my heart pounding, then whip around when Agatha taps my shoulder again.
She points back into the store, at the neat pile of clothes and the two shoeboxes on the counter.
“Think I’ve got what I want,” she says brightly, smiling up at me. “Can you come make sure it’s not too m-?”
She breaks off as a drunk businessman in a suit staggers away from his friends and stops before us.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he laughs, his eyes dragging over Agatha, her outfit. He holds up a folded one-dollar bill. “Where do I put this to get the party started?”
I know that I don’t have a super tough angry face, but I absolutely glare at him, instantly furious.
I’m startled when he flinches, backs off, and stumbles away to rejoin his group. Agatha giggles, then laughs as he trips wildly over his feet in his rush to escape, moving like his muscles all just turned to jelly.
I stare after him in surprise. Did I actually just make a scary face? Did I really just send someone running?
Then, feeling the warmth of someone standing right behind me, I turn around.
Aiden’s blue eyes are still on the fleeing businessman. They’re terrifying, his incensed glare like a blowtorch that could turn a person into cinders from all the way across the room. It completely unnerves not only the guy who bothered Agatha, but all of his friends, too. They wrench him back into their ranks and rush away, hustling for the doors.
Aiden watches them go, then looks down at me. His expression instantly melts into a warm, intimate smile when his eyes lock with mine.
I close my eyes, ready to sink to the ground in relief. My Sugar Maple is here.
“Thank god,” I groan, and reach out for him automatically, ready to pull him into my arms.
I realize what I’m doing and stop myself, but the movement dislodges the handcuffs tucked in the sleeve of Carter’s jacket. They come swinging out, shining brightly, dangling from my wrist.
Aiden’s eyes drop to them, then widen in obvious alarm.
“What the good fuck, man?” he sputters.
“Oh, my god,” Agatha giggles, pressing her hands over her mouth. “Carter! Why didn’t you remind me? Hang on, I’ve got the key. Unless… are you sure you don’t want your lap dance? I feel better, now, and honestly, you’ve been so sweet - I could do it.”
“Nope, no, that’s okay,” I tell her firmly, as Aiden’s eyebrows fly all the way up. “Just my freedom, please.”
Agatha laughs again, and Aiden stares at me as she inserts the little key to let me out of the cuffs.
“Lots to tell you,” I inform him.
He makes a face like, I can see that, then huffs out a laugh.
With that sweet sound in my ears, I finally feel my heartbeat start to calm down. I draw in a long, deep inhale. It feels unbelievably good.
My Companion Plant is here, and I can finally breathe again.
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