He walked out of the bathroom, towel slung around his hips. His torso covered in tattoos.
“People don't do that. Not normal ones anyway. Only psychos and criminals.” When he looked at me, I nodded as if to confirm that he fell in one of those columns, perhaps both.
“First off, why do you assume I would have been human?”
In spite of myself, I gaped. “What else would you be?”
“So closed minded.”
So many things clicked with that statement. Even for someone that hadn't ever taken a human shape, he was still too rough around the edges. Murphy, Luck, and most of the others in the office hadn't either, but somehow he'd always been different.
He walked over to the closet where things looked like they'd already been hung and pulled out a shirt and pants.
“Seriously, what are you?”
“I'll tell you right before you retire.” He pushed some hangers around. “I picked up some things for you as well.”
The gesture of him picking clothes out for me seemed oddly personal. It's strange how sometimes those things were more intimate than anything else.
“That thing you did in the lobby? You will not do that again.”
“You're human morality is becoming so tedious.”
“Even if I was never human, isn't that what I am anyway? Karma? Good, bad, right and wrong?”
He leaned over, two hands on the bed, bringing himself eye level with me. “What I did wasn't wrong, it was necessary.” The muscles in his arms tensed as he pushed himself back up.
“How is that?”
“You were digging in for a fight. I wanted to take a shower. Necessary.”
“And what I want?” It was such an arrogant statement and I was more than ready to take up that fight...until he dropped his towel.
“What are you doing!” I turned my head quickly. “Go in the bathroom!”
“We’ve slept together. What's the difference?”
And we weren’t going to again. I didn't argue, just grabbed an outfit from the closet and went to take a shower, hoping he'd be dressed when I got out.
***
“I hate airport food. Couldn’t we have at least eaten at one of the restaurants? I never thought I would say this, but I think I miss our office caterer.” We were sitting in Terminal A at Orlando Airport and I was debating which part of this was worse—the food or having to wait for a plane we weren't even taking. “The bread’s soggy. Can't they figure out a way for the bread to not get soggy?”
“They?”
“Yes. The powers that be that control airport food. Everything else gets a little push in one direction or another. Did the universe really decide to draw the line here?” I waved my soggy bread at him.
“I told you to wait.”
“I'm hungry. You ate, remember?” He’d had a fine little feast while I’d hid in the shower until my fingers pruned.
“Next time, don't take an hour long shower.”
“Next time, don't be an animal. How about that? You couldn’t even save me a tiny bite?”
“I ordered you something.”
“And then ate it!”
“It was getting cold because you wouldn’t leave the bathroom.” Elbows on the table, he leaned forward, daring me to disagree.
I rolled my eyes and then looked at the flight board. The plane should be taking off in forty-five minutes, but I still wasn't sure Maxwell was even going to show. Fate had been doing some normal human type digging and found out he had travel plans this afternoon.
I’d been more impressed before I’d found out that his detective work had really been flirting with Maxwell’s secretary while I was sleeping. Then I was just annoyed. I wondered if he had plans on having sex with her too, and then asking if any of her plans had changed.
“Are you watching for him?” he asked from across the table.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because this soggy mess is bad enough without having to look at cracked open faces oozing pus.”
“That bad?” His face scrunched up as he asked.
“Yes. And your face doesn’t make it any better. Why, what do you see?”
“The people look the same, but they have trails in front and behind them. Sometimes the trails are very strong and some are translucent.”
I'd just taken a rather large bite when he nudged me. “There.”
I turned to see Maxwell walking through the airport on the way to the terminal. He looked worse than ever and I had a hard time swallowing back the bite of half chewed food. I forced it down with a swig from my water bottle.
“You couldn't have given me one more minute?” I stood and tossed my sandwich in the trash. So much for food.
“He can't get on that plane,” Fate said as I sat back down. “If we lose track of Maxwell, we might never find Suit again.”
“Are we on our own?” I looked upward.
“Are you asking me or are you trying to talk to the universe again?”
“I’ll settle for anyone that will answer me.”
Fate put his hands out as he lifted an ear upward. “Yeah, I’d say it’s just us.”
“How do you know he can't get on that plane?”
He was already standing and motioning for me to get up as well. “We don't have time to discuss it right now. Just keep him off the plane. The attendant looks like she’s about to call for boarding.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Any way you can. I'll go up and try to stall the attendant.”
“But how?”
“It doesn’t matter how. Just don’t let him get on that plane.”
I watched as he literally swaggered over to the attendant, a young pretty thing in her twenties. Maybe he’d sleep with her and ask if she was still going to get on the plane. I cringed as the thought entered my head. I pushed the thoughts from my brain. Being the used, bitter girl wasn’t a good look.
I sashayed over to Maxwell. Or tried to, anyway. I'd never really practiced sashaying, there’s not much use for it in the courtroom, so I tried to emulate Luck.
Maxwell’s eyes lit with recognition as soon as he saw me, while I tried to hold down the soggy sandwich.
“Maxwell? I thought that was you!”
“How are you?” He stood and took my hand in greeting. It was hard to keep the smile on my face with the bad karma. It actually looked like he had pus dripping onto his dress shirt. How was it that only I could see this?
“Good!”
“How's everything going?” His eyes darted to my stomach briefly as he asked, a reminder of the pregnancy ruse last time we'd met.
“I lost it.” I said it in a soft voice as if it was hard to speak of.
“Oh, I'm so sorry!”
“My husband and I split and the stress of it all...” I added a dramatic shrug, the kind that said I was disappointed but accepting.
“I understand.”
“Were you heading out?”
“I was about to catch a flight to New York.”
“Oh...” I tried to weigh that comment down with as much disappointment as I possibly could. I'd never been a natural flirter, so I wasn't sure if it was coming across as intended, or more like I had a sudden stomachache.
His lips were pressed together and his eyebrows pulled close in confusion. But I’d seen the way he’d looked at me when he thought I was alone. I could pull this off. A soft gesture would push him off the cliff.
“I was hoping you'd come back to my hotel and have a drink?”
His face lit up and I belatedly realized I'd touched down an F5 instead of the gentle breeze I'd been going for. It didn't matter. It had worked.
“Let me just go up to the counter.”
I grabbed his arm. “No. Just call them. It'll be easier.”
“But the counter is right there?”
I tugged on his arm. “I hate airports. I need to get out of here, right now.”
He looked at me, and the way I was now clinging to his arm, and acquiesced.
He dug out his phone as we walked away from the terminal. I looked back to make sure Fate saw, but instead of looking happy, or even relieved, he looked a little pissed. Another reason we didn't make good partners. He was way too angry. I did what he wanted and he still wasn’t happy.
Our hotel was across the street from the airport. We walked into the lobby, arm in arm, and I started steering us toward the bar. Maxwell steered us to the elevator. Maxwell won, for now. He tugged me into the elevator after him.
“What floor?” His hand hovered near the keyboard.