13. Ryder

13

Vegas was the land of crazies.

Who the fuck was this asshole, and how had he gotten up to the second floor?

"Put the gun away," Shani ordered. "For Pete's sake."

"You know this guy?"

"Unfortunately," she muttered under her breath. "Meet Marcel."

He had a visitor badge clipped to his lapel, so he didn't work for Blackwood. Was security asleep downstairs? Ryder tucked his gun back into its holster, but he kept his hand over the grip.

"Hush your mouth," Marcel told Shani. "No more cake for you if you're rude, and no pizza either." Then he stepped to the side to get a better look at Luna. One wrong step, motherfucker… "I loved your show. The new songs are just bellisima. The dancing, the set…" He crinkled his nose. "I'm not sure about the costumes, but everything else is perfect."

Okay, so he was right about the costumes. Luna hated them. And now she dropped to her hands and knees with Shani, asses in the air as they tried to coax the dog out from under the table.

"Rocky, it's okay, cutie. I totally agree about the costumes. You should have seen the original designs—there were all these beaded tassels, and they kept hitting me in the face. And Frank wanted me to ride in on a camel. A live freaking camel."

"A camel would spit on that gold ensemble." Marcel glanced at his watch and began backing away. "I have to get to my acupuncture appointment, but I'll see you on Thursday."

"Thursday?"

"I'm coming to see the show."

"Again?"

"Don't forget to wave. Shani, there are cookies in the kitchen if those seagulls you call colleagues haven't devoured them already."

Then he was gone. The dog crawled out on its belly and pressed itself against Luna, so at least it had good taste. Damn, Ryder missed the quiet calm of Blackwood's Richmond headquarters.

"Who the hell was that guy?" he asked.

"Marcel," Shani said, scrambling to her feet.

"Yeah, I got that. What was he doing here?"

"Bringing cookies."

"Start at the beginning. He doesn't work for Blackwood, so how come he can just walk in here?"

"Emmy said it was okay."

Ryder slowly shook his head. "Why doesn't that surprise me? He's a friend of hers?"

"A friend of a friend, I think. There's a guy named Priest who sometimes borrows one of our meeting rooms, and Marcel's one of his people. So I guess you could call him Blackwood adjacent? Anyhow, Marcel loves to cook, and whenever his roommates are out of town, he ends up with spare food, so he brings it here. He's annoying as all get out, but nobody's gonna turn down free baked goods."

Priest? Well, that explained a lot. Ryder had only met the guy a handful of times, and more often, he went by the name Pale. But he came out of the same mould as Emmy and Black, although you wouldn't know it to look at him. The guy favoured Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops and somehow always managed to have a hot chick on his arm. Rumour said the chicks were every bit as deadly as he was, which meant there was a high probability Marcel was dangerous too.

"I don't like him getting in Luna's face."

"He just loves music. I swear he's been to every show in Vegas at least ten times."

Luna put a hand on Ryder's arm, and it grounded him. Fucking thrilled him. She was touching him freely now, and five minutes ago, she'd laid her lips on his. His damn cock was still hard.

"It's okay," she said. "At least he didn't take pictures. Honestly, I'm just surprised he managed to get that many tickets."

"He always gets tickets. Five bucks says he's in the front row."

It took another hour to extricate themselves from the office. Luna wanted a cookie, and Ryder had to pick up potato products, make sure the courier delivered the handwritten note to the West Coast forensics lab, and scan the two receipts over to Mack. The dog delayed things further by rolling onto its back, and of course Luna wanted to scratch its belly. The mutt was good for her, though. She was smiling.

By the time they made it to the car, they'd agreed to come to Shani's charity quiz. Officially, she was the office manager, but Randall said she was more like the office mom, making sure everyone had clean clothes and enough to eat. She always had a dog with her, occasionally two, and she'd set up a volunteering scheme for the shelter.

Ryder opened the back door of the new SUV—which was the same model as the old SUV—and brushed his lips over Luna's.

"It's been quite a day."

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Why is that even a question?" He kissed her again, just because he could. "I'll take you home, and then I'll leave via the front door, run a few errands, switch vehicles, and sneak back in through the parking garage."

"So people won't talk about you?"

"So people won't talk about us."

Ryder didn't like leaving Luna alone, but she promised not to open the door or answer the intercom until he got back, and they needed groceries. Plus Mack had called while Luna was teaching the mutt to lie down on cue, and she'd come up with a couple of interesting snippets of information. Firstly, the Barbie BMW was still registered in Luna's name, and secondly, Amethyst Puckett was at a spa in Los Angeles having her face peeled. Luna had mentioned that Jubilee never missed her Monday evening aerial yoga class when she was in Vegas, which meant Ryder had a side trip to make before he went to the grocery store.

He arrived back at the apartment building at the same time as a delivery driver from Sauge et Sel. The guy swerved to the side of the road while Ryder carried on into the parking garage that occupied the first floor of the building, and he knew, he just fucking knew, that the food was for Luna. He took the stairs two at a time and made it to the front door as the guy reached for the intercom.

"Delivery for 502 Cromer Place?" Ryder asked, keeping his head down because there was a ghoul with a camera leaning on a wall across the street.

The delivery guy checked the ticket. "That's right."

"Thought I wouldn't make it home in time."

"Your name is Luna Antony?"

Luna Antony? That weird-ass motherfucker.

"She's my girlfriend. Feel free to call upstairs, but if she's in the shower, don't expect a tip."

Ryder pulled a twenty from his wallet and held it out. The man took half a second to make his decision. A moment later, Ryder was left with a portion of coq au vin, a chocolate eclair, and another love note.

My Dearest Cleopatra,

On this beautiful evening, I couldn't resist treating you to a feast fit for a queen. Every lady deserves a break, and what better way to celebrate your day off than by eating a delightful dinner prepared with love? May this meal be a small tribute to the majestic spirit I see in you. Enjoy every bite, my beloved.

Yours always,

Mark A

The guy was out of his mind. But not stupid. The notes were well written with no spelling or grammatical errors, and the phone number he put on the orders was Luna's, not his own. Another security breach. If Mack managed to track down his order data, Ryder would put money on Mark A having used a preloaded credit card, a burner email address, and a VPN.

He went back to his car to collect the groceries and an overnight bag, then jogged up the stairs, calling Luna on the way so she wouldn't be alarmed when he knocked.

She was waiting in the doorway when he reached the fifth floor.

"You promised you'd stay inside."

"You're right here. Is that French food?"

"Tonight's offering from your stalker."

"Urgh. What did I get?"

"Coq au vin and a chocolate eclair. No, you're not eating it. If you need something sweet, I bought a cake at the store."

"How did I ever think I could live without you?" She grabbed one of the grocery bags and began rooting through it. "Okay, so you really were a jerk, but…wow, are those Peanut Butter Cups?"

"Is that what you're having for dinner?"

"Maybe? What else is there?"

"Pasta."

"Like, from a restaurant?"

"From a package."

"You think that's a good idea? I already smoked out one microwave."

"I'm not asking you to cook." Ryder picked her up, carried her over to the kitchen area, and deposited her on the counter. "You can just sit here and look pretty."

He kissed her softly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, which did nothing to deflate his dick and everything to make him fall harder.

"I took off my make-up, and I don't look so pretty without it."

"Bullshit."

"There's nothing about us together on the internet," Luna said, and Ryder didn't question the subject change. She might have spent her life chasing likes, but she found it hard to accept a genuine compliment.

"You did a great job of distracting everyone. You and Jorge."

"I meant when we were kissing in that room at your office. There's not even one picture."

"None of my colleagues are gonna dish dirt on the internet."

"They'll sell the story instead?"

"No, moon. They'll keep their mouths shut."

"Really? Huh."

"Your colleagues leak stories?"

"All the time. Some of them keep their mouths shut, and I think my dancers at the Palace wouldn't sell a story unless they got offered too much money to turn down, but the musicians, the crew, the stylists? Totally."

Until now, she'd had nobody loyal. Even her own family would sell her out, and that fucking sucked.

"Blackwood folks will gossip in the office, but it won't go farther than those walls. Full disclosure, there's a pool running on us in Richmond."

"A pool?"

"On how long it would take us to hook up. Guess somebody won a few bucks today."

"Sometimes I love the people you work with, and sometimes I hate them."

Ryder chuckled. "They're good people. And I told a tiny lie about your job tonight—you need to sit there, look pretty, and answer questions for your DMV knowledge test. I picked up a box of practice cards."

"I've never taken a test before. Is it hard?"

"Nah, moon. Multiple choice."

"At least there's no hurry. It's not as if I have a car."

Ryder stacked a bag of fresh pasta, a jar of tomato sauce, and a package of roasted vegetables on the counter.

"Your car is in the parking lot at Blackwood."

Luna's shriek rivalled Marcel's. "You got it back?"

"Piece of cake."

"I love you." She threw her arms around him, oblivious to the fact that Ryder's heart had sputtered and stopped. "Did you get Parmesan?"

I love you. She was probably being flippant, the way she said she loved curly fries and chocolate chip cookies. Or maybe, like with so many aspects of her life, she just didn't understand the rules. Didn't realise that declarations of love were meant to come after things got serious. Were they serious already? Ryder wasn't interested in any woman but her, and she sure as hell wasn't looking at other men.

He bent to kiss her forehead. "I love you too, moon."

Now she met his gaze, her sapphire eyes locked on his green ones.

"Nobody's ever said that to me before," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Not even her mom? Ryder almost asked the question but realised he didn't have to. Of course Amethyst Puckett had never told her daughter that she loved her.

"Then I'm going to tell you every damn day."