“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Um, yes. No. Yes.” He looked as confused as he sounded. He shook his head, glanced around the pub. “I’m being an ass. Sorry. I’ve got to run.”
Kyle stood up, then leaned over and kissed me on both cheeks and stroked my hair. “You’ll take care of yourself.”
“I will, but-”
“And the book. Look after it for me.”
“Of course. Maybe we can-”
“Yes,” he said with conviction. “Yes, we can. I’ll call your room later and we’ll set up a time to talk some more. Love you, darling. Ta.”
And with that, he rushed off, leaving me alone with the book and the tab.
On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at a bookstore and purchased a paperback copy of Robert Burns’s selected poems, specifically because it included some history of the time and a glossary to help translate Burns’s old Scottish dialect.
Next door was a convenience store, where I bought three bags of Cadbury Chocolate Buttons and two large bottles of water. As I walked back to the hotel, I thought about Kyle. The book fair women I knew had always called him the Bad Boy Bookseller, and yes, the moniker was completely deserved. He was charming and slick and he’d always managed to slip and slide through relationships and love affairs, leaving a trail of brokenhearted women in his wake. And yet, everyone loved him. It helped that he was gorgeous and wealthy.
But today I realized that while he still had that same charm about him, he was right to say that he’d mellowed a bit. I didn’t know if it was because of the attempt on his life or if he was just growing up. Whatever it was, I liked it. I liked him. Then again, I didn’t have to date him, did I?
Back at the hotel, I went straight to the front desk and asked for a safe-deposit box. Once Kyle’s book was safely tucked away and I had the key zipped securely inside my purse, it was time to head for my room. I was beyond tired and starting to see double as I crossed the lobby and turned down the wide hall to the bank of elevators.
“Oh, no, they’ll let any piece of trash in here these days.”
I recognized that shrill, grating voice. Heat flared up my neck like a bad rash, and my stomach twisted in a knot as I turned.
“Minka,” I said through clenched teeth.
Minka LaBoeuf, my archenemy and worst nightmare, approached me slowly, her hips gyrating alluringly-if you were a water buffalo. I grew concerned for the fragile antique furniture nearby. One wayward thrust of those hips could destroy any one of the elegant Georgian side tables that lined the wide hall.
Back in college she’d tried to incapacitate me by stabbing my hand with a skiving knife. She’d been a pain in my ass ever since.
Of all the hotels in all the world, she had to walk into mine.
“What are you doing here?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Working,” she said proudly. Her leopard-skin spandex top emphasized her hefty breasts along with several rolls of stomach fat. “For one of the most brilliant men in Scotland.”
“A pimp?”
“Do you see me laughing?” she asked frostily. “You’re not funny.”
“You’ve never had a sense of humor,” I said, pounding the button to hurry the elevator along.
“Perry McDougall is the top expert in Regency and Georgian-”
“Wait, you’re working for Perry McDougall?”
“Yes,” she said smugly, apparently mistaking my horror for admiration. “He specifically requested me to be his assistant this week.”
I was speechless. Knowing Perry actually thought this Goth twit was capable of even a smidge of competence in the workplace lowered my estimation of Perry even further, if that was possible.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she said.
“Wowie?”
She smiled tightly. “You’re just jealous.”
“Better not screw up,” I said. “I’ve heard that Perry stuffs incompetent assistants into his haggis and eats them for breakfast.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“I’m just telling you what I heard.” The elevator doors opened and I gratefully walked inside alone.
“I’m warning you right now,” she said, slapping her hand against the side of the door to keep it from closing. “Stay out of my way.”
I held up both hands in surrender. “I’m trying, but you can’t seem to let me go.”
“Bitch,” she said viciously.