Page 20 of Missed Communication
Then again, Vice President Vasileiou’s first husband was murdered at a gala about a decade ago which had similar security. Her father was a Supreme Court Justice at the time, so no one is safe. Except this isn’t Washington, it’s Canada where people are notoriously nice. Happy people don’t murder social media managers.
Mid-spiral, my phone vibrates on the small dining table, and I check it.
Tracy
Sorry! I took a page out of your book.
What is that supposed to mean?
I was just flirting with a hot bartender. Don’t wait up!
Bartender? What the fuck?
Jealousy sears through me. She can’t be talking about Jamie, right? Sure, it’s possible, but he met Tracy today, and knows she also works for Olivia—for me, really. Is he just a player looking to get his dick wet? Was I just a hole to be filled? Why go to the effort of lunch today if that’s the case?
What the hell am I saying? He has every right to fuck anyone he wants. He’s not my boyfriend, just a guy I slept with last night. Nothing more.
As I’m about to type out a reply to remind her to be safe, regardless of who she is sleeping with, the lights flicker a few times before shutting off completely. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I grumble as I swipe to my flashlight button on my phone and press it. Making my way to the door, I try the light switch. Nothing. It could be from the storm or just a freak issue with the power. Either way, I carefully maneuver through the room to the landline phone on the nightstand. I breathe a sigh of relief as I press the receiver to my ear and hear the familiar buzz that it’s still working. Tapping the front desk button, they answer immediately, “Front desk, this is Tony.”
“Hi, Tony. This is Aubrey Raine. I’m in room 614 and it seems the power is out.”
“Yes, Ms. Raine. Our generators are up and running, but we’ll be focusing on maintaining the heat of the building until full power is restored.”
“Do you have blankets or additional sheets?”
“Yes, I can send someone up with them.”
I shake my head, even if he can’t see it. “No, that’s all right. Your staff will be busy enough. Could you set aside a few for me. I’ll be down shortly.”
“Of course. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you.”
We hang up, then I locate a pair of flats and my key card. Before I head down, I stop by Livy’s room, hearing hushed voices from inside. She’s probably on the phone, so I knock softly to not startle her.
A moment later, she answers the door, cheeks flushed. “Oh, hey, Aubrey. Everything okay?”
So help me if she was having phone sex with Isaac…
“Yeah,” I reply, eyeing her suspiciously. “I hope I didn’t wake you. The power is out. I just called down to the front desk, and the generators aren’t running enough to power the whole building. They said heat is a priority, but I’m going to run down and get blankets for us, just in case. Need anything else while I’m down there?”
“No, I’m good, thanks. Are you sure you’re okay taking the stairs that many floors?”
I roll my eyes; it isn’t as if I’m nine months pregnant. Unable to resist, I opt for a smidgen of shock value. “Last night I got my workout in by riding a hot, tatted man. Since that’s not happening tonight, and I didn’t get to the gym, I could use the exercise.”
Livy nods thoughtfully, unfazed by my admission to getting laid last night. Something isn’t right. “Okay, only if you’re sure,” she insists. “Let me know if you need help.”
I wave her off and leave. I’m ninety-percent sure Isaac is in there with her or she intends to invite him up later. This is like the inauguration a few months ago all over again, and I’ll need to contact Ned Collins to clean up the mess of camera footage. In the mood for a little chaos, I return to my room to retrieve the massage oil candle that Jamie was eyeing, then return to Livy’s room, knocking three times.
Before she answers, I call through the door, “Livy?” She opens it, and now the pink of her cheeks has shifted to her chest, guilt painted on her face. “Before I go downstairs, I figured you could use this. I forgot to unpack my bag from my trip last weekend.” I hand it to her and add, “Just keep it away from Isaac.”
“Why?” she squeaks.
“You’ll see when you open it.”
I pivot to leave and Olivia blurts, “There’s something you should know.”
“Do I even want to ask?”
