Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales, the blog post that allows a select group of authors to share their works in progress with you. Since Saturday was Valentine’s Day, this week’s word prompt, KISS, is most appropriate. Enjoy?
Two hours later, Al and I had finished the working lunch Hallie had picked up for us at Coffee Clutch. We’d gotten a little frisky after we’d eaten … nothing over the top, but we’d kissed and cuddled while we’d discussed the case. I’d never realized how helpful it was to have someone I could trust with me when I had issues, and believe you-me, I had issues. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe what the men had told us, it was just that I should’ve been told all of that up front, and the fact that I hadn’t been pissed me off.
While Anton hadn’t revealed anything particularly surprising, other than the fact that he’d spent two days in his room with the runs—if that was true—the information from Zandro had been disturbing to say the least. Why hadn’t Viktor mentioned Andreea Popa when I’d asked him if anyone had known that Leo was the prince? He’d lied to me, and I wanted to know damn well why. He was the one who’d claimed they’d been followed. It seemed to me that Ms. Popa was as good a candidate for that role as anyone else, and the fact that she and Zandro had engaged in a little pillow talk before her vanishing act and the prince’s certainly was of interest to me.
The intercom on my desk buzzed. I glanced at my watch. It was too early for Petrov; he wasn’t due here until two-thirty, while Viktor was scheduled for four. Perhaps Hallie had discovered something about Andreea. Why hadn’t she just brought it in? Silly me. She was no fool and might’ve guessed what we were doing behind closed doors. The intercom buzzed once more, pulling me out of my head.
I stood, straightened my clothing, walked over to my desk, and depressed the button.
“Yes, Hallie, what’s up?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Chambers…”
The emergency alarm in my brain went off, and my eyebrows drew together. Something was wrong. The only time Hallie spoke to me that way was when there was a client present. I checked my watch again. I hated being late, but then I would never show up an hour early either. If it wasn’t one of the Zoborans, who else had come to see me? Had Emile sent Nadia over with more information? I looked over at Al and shrugged. I would know soon enough.
“What’s the problem, Hallie?”
“I … Baron Bukowski and Mr. Opole are here.”
Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Living the Dream 