Moonlighter (The Company, #1)(38)

Then again, slutty looks good on me. So I go back to the house phone and order a light breakfast and a pot of coffee.





I do a nice long workout in the hotel gym. My only interruption is when my bad knee begins to throb, and I have to take a break to rewrap it. I first tore my ACL back in college. The reconstruction surgery went really well and didn’t interfere with my career. That was almost fifteen years ago, though, and I’ve been warned that arthritis is a common long-term result.

Last season I had some pain, so we’ve been monitoring the situation. They tell me I might need another surgery, but I’ll put that off as long as I can.

I’d meant to go running on the beach after the gym. But my knee is still acting up, and I call it quits after only two miles. New plan: lunch and then a swim in the lap pool on the terrace. There’s more than one way to get a cardio workout.

In the hotel restaurant, I take a seat indoors at the bar and order lunch. I’m just finishing an excellent blackened fish sandwich when someone takes the barstool right beside me. “A coke, please, and put it on this guy’s tab.”

I look up and find it’s Gunnar, and he’s alone. And I almost choke on my last bite of fish. “If you’re here, and I’m here, then who’s with Alex?”

“Easy,” he says quietly. “She’s in the world’s dullest lunch meeting with Pieter, Rolf, and a content provider from L.A. The reason I’m here right now is that Tatum is seated about ten barstools down from you.”

“Oh.” I know better than to look around for Gunnar’s target, so I push my plate away and keep my focus on him. “Then you’re not here to deliver a lecture from my brother?”

“Not a chance.” Gunnar chuckles. “But forgetting about the security camera was a rookie move.”

“Yeah. I know.” Thank goodness I didn’t peel Alex out of her clothes until after we moved to the bedroom.

“Besides, your brother is one to talk. It would be hypocritical of him to lecture you for hooking up with Alex.”

“Wait, what?” I stiffen. “My brother and—?” I can’t even finish the sentence because the idea of my brother and Alex together makes me irrationally angry.

“No! That’s not what I meant.” He laughs. “Good thing, though. You look like you’re about to slug someone.”

Do I? My fist is clenched, which is weird because jealousy isn’t my style. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

“I just meant that he’s no saint.”

That’s interesting. So much of my brother’s life is a mystery to me. But I don’t want to pump Gunnar for details, so change the subject. “What’s the plan for tomorrow night? Alex is giving some kind of speech?”

“Right. We’ll cover her when she’s at the podium, and you’ll stay close to her at the table. There’s no need for anything more drastic than that.”

“Got it. Any other news?”

Gunnar shakes his head. “We still don’t know who that is in the break-in video if that’s what you’re asking. We may never know. In fact, it’s better if we never hear from him again.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

But what a frustrating job Gunnar has. My job always has an endpoint—you either win the game, or you lose. You advance, or you get knocked out. I like knowing where I stand.

“My boy is on the move,” Gunnar mutters. “I’ll be shoving off in a moment. Thanks for the drink.”

“Don’t mention it. But are you usually stuck on surveillance duty?” He’s my brother’s number two. I always assumed he spent his time in the background, keeping tabs on everyone else.

“This job is different every day.” He shrugs. “And that’s a good thing.” At that, he slides off the barstool and makes his way casually out of the restaurant, checking his watch like a man without a care in the world.





An hour later, I learn that swimming against a steady current is surprisingly difficult. Unlike swimming real laps, there’s no break every fifty meters. And after an hour, I’m wheezing like an old polar bear. Every stroke is harder than the last.

I’m trying to decide if I can last for another ten minutes when a pair of smooth and shapely legs appears in the water in front of me.

Alex is back. It’s the perfect excuse to give up.

I stand to greet her. Or at least I try, but the force of the current pushes me off my feet, and I end up struggling like a fool until I locate the off button.

Finally the current dies, leaving me standing chest deep in water, breathing hard. “Hi,” I wheeze.

She grins. “Hi, fake boyfriend. How was your day?”

“The usual. A nice long workout until my arms and legs felt like falling off. Then a healthy lunch, a little sunbathing naked on the terrace. And now a swim. About the same as yours, I guess.”

“I hope you didn’t burn anything important.”

“Don’t you worry.” I take a step closer and notice that she’s eyeing my abs. “And how was your day?”

“Oh, just the usual. Back-to-back meetings, negotiations, and brain-to-brain combat. One supplier tried to convince me that I should buy his batteries because they were especially proton neutral.” She tips her head back and laughs. “It’s like they can’t fathom that I have a brain.”