Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(53)

“Hello?” a male voice yelled into my ear.

I grimaced and pulled the phone back too late to avoid a near-deafening “Hello?”

“Hello?” the voice said again.

“Who’s this?”

“Ryan?” the voice asked.

“Yeah. What’s up?” I was pretty sure it was Keith Abelard, but it was sort of hard to tell, what with the music and the screaming and the traffic noises on my end and all.

“Where the f*ck are you?” Oh, yes. Definitely Keith.

“I’m just leaving the office now. Keep your shirt on.” I immediately became defensive but then reminded myself that he didn’t mean anything by his question, and he hadn’t contributed to my current mood. Deep breaths, Ryan. Deep breaths.

“Is that Ryan?” I heard someone else yell in the background. Several other voices joined in the shouting, and while I couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, the basics were pretty apparent. I was late. Very late. They’d started without me.

“Hurry up, Ryan. We’re all waiting.”

“And you’re all half-drunk.” I smiled fondly. The guys were nothing if not predictable, and their boisterous spirits were just what I needed to take my mind off the mess my life had imploded into during the past forty-eight hours. “Relax. I’ll be there in half an hour. Maybe forty-five minutes.”

“Shut up,” Keith yelled at someone, not bothering to take the phone away from his ear and almost bursting my eardrum. “I can’t hear her. Forty-five minutes?” he repeated, sounding confused.

“An hour, tops.” I gauged traffic as my cab driver and I made our way slowly but surely up the FDR.

“It doesn’t take that long to get to Piper’s from the office.”

“I know that. I have to make a stop first.”

“For every minute she’s late, she owes us all a shot,” someone else chimed in. I groaned as everyone else screamed their agreement, and I heard the clinking of glasses in the background. They were probably toasting that suggestion.

“What stop?” Keith demanded in between shushing noises, which apparently had less than no effect on the crowd.

“I have to pick up Allison.” And hit an ATM, it sounded like. I barely had the resources to pay for all the shots I was preparing to consume. I sure as hell didn’t have the cash on me to cover everyone else’s. And I’d learned the hard way never to throw down a credit card to cover a tab. That’s how you ended up with a five-hundred-dollar bar bill and no recollection of how you wound up on the floor in your apartment wearing only your bra and a hat. Or so I’d heard.

“Who?”

“Allison. The PPD lead.” I hated that I was without my own phone, as I’d wanted to send her a text letting her know I was en route, so she could be outside ready to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere near her hotel room. God only knew what sort of an ass I’d make of myself if I were alone with her. I’d probably burst into tears or something. And her seeing me cry once this visit was plenty.

“She’s still here?”

“No, I’m going to D.C. to get her.”

“Stop being a smart-ass.”

“Then stop asking me stupid questions. I’ll get there when I get there.”

“Okay, but hurry up.”

I heaved a bone-weary sigh as I hung up and leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Someone’s going to meet us at the curb when we get to the hotel,” I told him, raising my voice to make sure it carried over the din of the traffic and through the Plexiglas separating us. “Then I’d like you to take us to Piper’s.” I rattled the cross streets off the top of my head.

The only acknowledgment that I’d spoken was a sort of curt nod that might or might not have been directed at me. I sat back in the seat with a shrug and sent Allison a quick email from my work phone. Then I allowed my mind to wander as I stared out the window. Thoughts of the work I needed to accomplish over the next few days mingled with images of Lucia that faded into pictures of Allison, all of it going around and around until it made me a touch crazy. I shook my head violently as if to wipe my brain clean like an Etch-A-Sketch. I didn’t need to think tonight.

When we pulled up to the curb in front of The W, Allison was just stepping outside. Her well-worn, faded jeans appeared as though they’d been painted on her body; a form-fitting, red cotton tank top displayed a tantalizing amount of olive skin; and broken-in, scuffed black boots completed her casual outfit. Her hair was loose and cascaded to tickle the tops of her bare shoulders. She’d folded a light jacket over one arm, and an eager-looking smile played across her luscious lips.

My mind went blank, and a swarm of dragonflies took flight inside me, their virtual wings tickling the undersides of my rib cage deliciously. I trembled slightly and licked my lips. Well, if anyone could take my mind off the emotional grenade Lucia had just lobbed my way, it was Allison. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I was too fried to think, and it didn’t really matter enough for me to try.

Self-consciously, I glanced down at myself. All I’d had available in my bag at the office had been a dark pair of indigo jeans, a black silk halter top that revealed just enough cleavage to get someone’s attention without being vulgar, and a pair of black, open-toed sling-backs. I’d piled my hair up into a loose, messy knot on the back of my head and made sure I covered the angry-looking scab on my forehead with some strategically placed wisps of bang.