Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(46)

We arrived at our place via the underground garage, and James walked me into the apartment and up to our room.

He watched me from the doorway of the closet as I got undressed for my nap.

“I can’t linger. I really do need to get back to the hotel, since I’ll be heading back to Las Vegas with you tomorrow.”

I just nodded, half undressed, my back to him. I felt him watching me for long minutes before he left.

I got ready for bed and lay down to sleep, but it eluded me for a long time. The way James was acting filled me with tension and anxiety. I tried to tell myself that he was just a moody and unpredictable man. That was one of the first things I’d learned about him. But I just knew, deep down in my gut, that it was something bad, something that he felt threatened him, or perhaps threatened us. He had told Roger to offer his entire fortune to protect from the mysterious threat, and I knew that he wouldn’t use those words lightly.



My phone woke me, and even as I answered it, I knew I’d overslept. I had that groggy feeling that I only got when I took too long of a nap.

“Buttercup, you coming out with us tonight?” Stephan asked.

I blinked awake. “Who is us? And where are you going?”

“The crew is going to Red with the other two crews that are here on a layover. They are driving into the city from the airport hotels. A few extra people are coming into town, as well. I talked Javier, Jessa, Marnie, and Judith into flying in for the night. Our morning flight has like thirty open seats, so they’ll have no problem flying home with us. It’s turned into a kind of bankruptcy party. I talked to James. He said that people could crash at your place, and at his hotel. He’s even setting up a VIP section at Red for us. He was supposed to tell you about it, but I guess you were sleeping.”

I had to smile a little at Stephan turning a bankruptcy into a party, but hell, why not?

“We all have to get up so early in the morning,” I told him. It wouldn’t do at all to have a bunch of no-shows in the morning.

“It’s fine. It’s not like we do this often. Everyone just really needs to blow off steam.”

I well understood. I felt the same urge. “What time do I need to be there?”

He laughed. “In an hour. Get a move on, Buttercup!”

I did, showering, blow-drying my hair, and getting my makeup on in record time. There was a food tray set just inside my bedroom door when I came out of the bathroom.

I ate the turkey burger on wheat quickly, impressed with Marion’s efficiency. It was good, stacked with fresh vegetables, a spicy guacamole sauce giving it flavor. Either I was getting used to the fanatically healthy menu, or Marion was especially talented at making healthy taste good.

I cleared my plate in minutes, rushing to get ready.

I wore red. It seemed appropriate for the venue, and I loved the little dress. It draped over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and the way it hung flattered my figure. It set off my collar just right, and I found the diamond cuffs on my jewelry vanity, which went perfectly. I wore diamond hoops in my ears as well, which may have been overkill, but why not? I had a whole team of bodyguards to keep me from getting robbed.

Jackie’s system pointed me in the direction of some nude heels with a red sole. These ones came with a note.





This dress needs stilettos. Please, I am begging you to change your mind on the wedge stance.

Jackie





The note made me laugh. I was almost beginning to enjoy tormenting that strange woman. I knew some fashionistas, but she took it to a whole new level. The idea that she had chosen every outfit, shoe, and bag so carefully, and then apparently left notes on some of them, just cracked me up.

I took the little yellow note to the bag closet and grabbed the tiny nude clutch with the matching number. At least it had a long strap.

I sent out a few texts before I went downstairs. The first one went to James.





Bianca: I’m going to Red for Stephan’s party. Will I see you there?





He responded quickly but shortly.





James: You will.





Cryptic man.

The second text went to the security contact on my phone. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was, but I’d prefer to keep them informed of my actions, as opposed to having them just wait for me at all hours.





Bianca: I’m going out. Heading downstairs now.





The response came back in under a minute.





Security: Roger that.





I thought that was an odd text response, but I just went downstairs.

Blake was waiting for me, wearing a black suit and looking as severe as always. I nodded at her.

She nodded back. “The others are waiting for us downstairs, Ms. Karlsson.”

We got into the elevator.

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” I told her. It was worth at least one try.

She looked startled. “Of course, Mrs. Cavendish.”

I slapped a hand to my forehead. Literally. “Don’t call me that. Call me Bianca.”

“That’s against my orders, Mrs. Cavendish.”

Hand to the forehead. Again. “Okay. Call me Ms. Karlsson, then, please.”