The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(45)
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I seize the opportunity to escape. “I’m sorry. I have to go grab this.” I hold the phone to my ear even though I received a text message, say “Hello?” loudly enough to be heard, and step out the front door.
The text from Matteo is short:
Come upstairs.
I wait a few moments for effect, then head back inside, shooting a quick glance to the kitchen, where the pizza is quickly disappearing. No one will miss me.
I find Matteo in a bedroom upstairs standing at a closet. He’s not just taking notes; he’s snooping.
“Isn’t this illegal?” I hiss, poking my head back out the door to make sure no one followed me upstairs.
“I got lost on my way to the bathroom. Come look at this.”
I stand beside him and peer into the closet. Costumes of all types line the wall. Including a Hooded Falcon, complete with hooded cape. I chew my lip. “We go to a lot of conventions. It’s a part of the job.”
“There you guys are. The second movie is starting,” Nina’s voice comes from the doorway, and I jump about a mile high.
“Oh, um, we were just . . .”
Nina gives me a bawdy wink. “It’s fine. I see you’ve discovered our costume closet. We just got that Hooded Falcon one last week off eBay. I thought it would be fun for Kyle to go as the Falcon for the anniversary gala, although I’m going to have to do some sizing work. Maybe you could help with that, MG. Right now Kyle would trip and fall on his face, the cape is so long. Are we going to get to see you in costume, Matteo?”
I shoot Matteo a look. “Oh, I, um, I’ve already invited my friend Lawrence.” I haven’t even thought about inviting Matteo to my work party. Silly me, as I didn’t have a fake boyfriend two weeks ago when I invited Lawrence.
“Maybe I’ll just have to change her mind about that. I look dashing in a cape, or so I imagine.” Matteo plays the ever-doting boyfriend and pulls me against his chest. My heart does somersaults. I bet he does look dashing in a cape.
“Second movie is starting!” Kyle yells from the living room.
“Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to miss anything.” Matteo grabs my arm, and we follow Nina downstairs where we settle back onto the couch. I end up leaning against the armrest, my feet across Matteo’s lap. It’s cozy, and some of my ruffled feathers settle. I’m fairly certain Kyle isn’t the Golden Arrow. He and Simon never seem particularly up for fighting crime in the real world. They’re more fit for the Dork Squad than the Justice League. The case remains a mystery. My gaze returns to Matteo.
Watching the second movie is just as endearing as the first, even as I mull over the case in my head. And my fake boyfriend. I’m a little afraid he’s taken my heart by surprise and not just my mind.
CHAPTER 15
I bang my head slowly on the desk in hopes of reawakening all my carefully cultivated brain cells. Ever since the work party this weekend, my mind has been a gooey mess of crime stories gone wrong, developing L’s costume for Comic-Con, and hot cop fantasies instead of focusing on the circus of deadlines parading through my week. I still haven’t started my Hero Girls pages, and the rough outlines are due to Andy by Wednesday. I’m still fiddling with the ending for my Hooded Falcon pages—those are headed to the printer for a test run on Friday, come hell or high water. And speaking of, I still haven’t said a word to Andy, even though it’s 2:00 p.m. on Monday and we’ve been in the office all day together. My mind feels stuck, swirling, and I blame it all on Matteo. So what if I like him? More than like him. No biggie, just solve something the DEA and LAPD can’t crack; then I can ask him out. There’s no reason for this creative stagnation and romantic angsting. Especially since I’ve heard zero from Matteo since I dropped him off at his house after the party. He’s obviously not pining personally or professionally. No updates on the clues. No updates on the warehouse. Nada.
I’ve been drowning my woes in sewing sequins . . . something that normally drives me batty but has been like a life raft for my fingers, which have been itching to pick up the phone.
“Yo, MG. You all right?” This from Simon, who has removed his headphones and can hear me banging my head.
Show no weakness. Give no quarter. “Yep.” I continue to bang my forehead.
He pauses. “You don’t look okay.”
“You’ve obviously never seen creative genius at work.” I sit up and slap my palm to the desk, sick of my own mental waffling. Would Buffy just sit home and wait for a vampire to show up? No, ma’am. She’d strap on her favorite halter and go patrolling. It’s time for stomping boots. I’m going to get my work done. Then I’m calling Matteo to ask for an update. Yes, calling.
As if summoned by my thought, my phone buzzes, and Lawrence’s face pops up on my screen. One of the only people I ever answer for; God help me if I ever take a call from my mother again. I forgo formalities because he’s my bestie and I know why he’s calling. “Sorry I didn’t deliver those costumes last night. I ended up restitching that cummerbund. Twice. I’ll get everything to you Friday before the show, I promise.”
Silence greets my words.
“L? Did you pocket dial me?”
“Did you come to my house last night?”
“I—what? No. I didn’t get a chance to drop off the costumes. Why?” A chill of foreboding makes its way down my spine.