He was silent long enough for her to look over at him. When she did, his expression was uncharacteristically serious.
“Words like whore. Slut. They’re powerful.” There was sadness in his eyes until he closed them and shook his head. “They don’t just hurt when one person throws them at another. They can be labels. Other labels—like call girl, escort, courtesan—might be kinder but they carry as much judgment with them. They can haunt a person and follow them from day to day, place to place. If enough people throw them at a person, those words become a part of perceived identity. Even if money exchanges hands in return for sexual favors, I don’t assume it has anything to do with who the woman actually is.”
She considered him for a moment. He’d known someone or maybe more than one person in such a position. It was personal for him somehow.
“A lot of ways to hurt a person.” She found herself turning her body to face him, opening up her posture as he bared a part of himself to her. Somehow this discussion had gone dark and she got the impression he presented the lighter persona to avoid this part of his personality. Hell, if she was any good at being funny, she’d do it too.
He nodded, still caught up in his mood. “Indeed. In any case, you have your answer.”
She pushed her laptop over to him. The screen displayed a map of downtown Seattle. “Any of those locations shown here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is this to determine where to go or where not to go?”
She tipped her head to one side. “It’s sort of a balance. The trick is to not be quite where they expect you to be but close enough that they’ll overlook you as they try the next likely spot.”
“And you have a way to manage this?” There was definitely amusement in his voice now.
“I made several reservations at varying types of hotels under pseudonyms.” She tapped the map on the screen. “Once you answer my question, I’m going to pick one. I’ll check back in with the rest of the protective detail just before we leave. Once I do, we move and don’t stop until we’re established securely in the new location.”
Whether she’d share their exact location was something she’d decide later. A lot of it depended on the details of the shooting on Weaver and Austin and any theories they had on how they’d been targeted.
Chapter Eight
As they entered the lobby, Kyle paused to watch a family and their dog waiting on the nearby sofas. The dog was well enough behaved, sitting patiently near the adults, and it was on a leash. The family was all dressed in identical T-shirts and obviously visiting on vacation.
Most definitely a family-friendly atmosphere but he was pleased to see the decor remained elegant and sophisticated. Often, family-friendly places attempted to create an almost cartoon-style atmosphere to entertain the younger demographic.
He turned his attention back to the dog. It had an endlessly patient expression for a canine. Considering the bounding energy of the children running laps around the sofa, the pooch probably needed quite a lot of that particular virtue.
Isabelle paused to follow his gaze. “Not a big fan of dogs? Seattle is a fairly dog-friendly city.”
Kyle shook his head. “I’ve spent most of my life here in the United States but it still catches me by surprise to see pets out and about with their owners in public spaces.”
“Yeah?” Isabelle nudged him with a shoulder to continue forward to the front desk. “Some cities are more pet-friendly than others.”
“Where I spent my childhood, dogs were not commonplace pets in the household.” His childhood wasn’t filled with fond memories either but it had never occurred to him to want a dog the way some of his classmates had when he’d entered school in the United States.
His mother had been afraid of any pet larger than a hamster, really.
“Ah. We do make way for a lot of lifestyles here.” Isabelle kept him close to her side as the desk clerk turned his attention to her. “Hi. Checking in?”
The man gave her a friendly smile. “Of course. Name?”
Isabelle didn’t hesitate. “Reyes. Two guests.”
Kyle kept his expression bland, his gaze wandering to fish in the bowl behind the front desk and reading the sign next to it. Isabelle turned, her dark gaze scanning the lobby and the area beyond the front doors while the clerk found their reservation and prepared their room keys. While she was scanning the room, he caught the eye of a young lady behind the desk.
The pretty employee smiled as she turned toward him and he pointed at the fishbowl. Then glanced significantly at Isabelle and winked, placing his finger over his lips. The young woman’s eyes widened with comprehension and she smiled, nodding.
Kyle grinned as the woman stepped over to the clerk’s side, whispering discreetly.