21. Charlotte

21

CHARLOTTE

I try my best to act at ease while Grayson is gone. This proves difficult when anyone at this party might be a spy for the Aegis Order.

And where did Malloy go? I saw him heading in my direction a minute ago and then poof, nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’s grabbing another drink.

Part of me wishes the Order had never targeted me. But if that were so, I would never have met Grayson. It’s difficult to reconcile my feelings, because while the Order terrifies me, I can’t imagine not having met Gray.

I spot a real ‘lady-killer’ lounge lizard type coming up toward me. I cringe on the inside, but I can’t escape since Grayson told me to stay put, where people can see me.

He’s at least twenty years older than me, his hair suspiciously jet black and fuller on top of his head than it should be. His grin stretches ear to ear as he holds up two glasses of champagne.

“Excuse me, but you looked thirsty so I brought you a drink.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t accept that,” I say with an apologetic smile.

“Why not?” I can tell he’s not daunted. The last thing I need is a hanger-on.

“Because I’m the designated driver for my friends. Sorry.”

He shrugs and sets the champagne down.

“Then can I get you some fruit punch? Or some bottled water? My boy Wyatt always imports the good stuff.”

“No, thank you, I’m fine. I’m just waiting for my friend.”

A sneer mars his face.

“Yeah, well, your loss, then.”

I sigh as he retreats. He’s the third guy to come up and try to hit on me since we got here. I bet he wouldn't dare if Gray were around.

I check the time, and find Gray has only been gone for about fifteen minutes. It seems like a lot longer. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t let him run off on his own. He could probably use some backup. If he had backup during our paparazzi car chase, maybe he could have identified the second car.

Only, if I went with him now, how much help could I actually be? I try to remind myself that this is Gray’s wheelhouse. This is what he was trained for, the kind of mission he must have done a hundred times for the CIA. It’s silly for me to worry about him, or to think that my presence would really make a difference.

I look around the party, wrinkling my nose in distaste. I’ve been to plenty of LA parties. Some of them are more wild than others. I’m not sure what bothers me so much about Wyatt’s guests. It all seems so excessive. I watch as a woman, naked but for body paint, rides by on a unicycle juggling condoms filled with whipped cream.

I check the time again. Gray’s been missing for almost half an hour now. I reach into my purse and feel the comforting weight of the squarish stun gun Easton loaned me what seems like forever ago at the Platinum Security office. I’m not completely defenseless without Gray.

I decide I’m going to give him ten more minutes. Ten more minutes, and then I’m looking for him.

Those ten minutes pass like absolute torture. I keep imagining scenarios where Gray is hurt or in trouble, and my wasting time before I even begin to search is what condemns him to death. Right now, I’m more worried about Gray than I am for myself.

The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve never felt that way for anyone before, other than my parents. But if risking my life can save Gray, it’s something I will do without hesitation.

I check the time. Nine minutes. Close enough. I move away from the pillar I’ve been leaning against since Gray left and start the search. The only problem is, he went through a doorway that’s closely guarded by tuxedo-wearing bouncers.

Gray’s friend Malloy helped him get through. I don’t have anyone to provide a distraction, but there must be another way into that part of the villa, even if I have to go outside and come in another way.

I start searching. It’s a difficult task, because I’m trying so hard to make it look like I’m NOT searching for a way to sneak past the guards. I feel like Gray could do this so much better. I’m not a spy, and I’ve never had his CIA training.

Yet I have an awful feeling that Gray is in some kind of trouble, and might need my help. I can’t give up. I have to find a way to help him. Just as I set upon the idea of finding a fire alarm and pulling it, I run into the one man I had hoped to avoid. Wyatt.

“Hey, hey, it’s the other Ms. Paltrow,” he says, eyes glassy and a half-empty champagne bottle in his hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my friend Boris. He just flew in from Russia, and the only English he knows is ‘have a nice day.’ It’s wonderful.”

“Um, that sounds great, Mr. Wyatt, but I–”

“Mr. Wyatt?” he sputters in mock outrage. “How dare you! I’m not Mr. anything.”

He gestures emphatically during his denial, sloshing champagne onto the floor.

“I’m just plain old Wyatt. I’m nobody special. I certainly haven’t won any awards from the city.”

For a moment, his face flashes with dark, deep-seated anger. It’s gone so quickly I almost think I imagined the whole thing. Wyatt gloms onto me and starts escorting me around the party.

I try to smile and make nice with all of his weird artist friends, while going through different excuses to get away from Wyatt. I don’t want to make anyone suspicious, but on the other hand I can’t look for Gray while Wyatt has me in his clutches.

Wyatt leads me into a side room, where someone has set up an outdoor slide leading from the gallery down to the ground floor. The slide ends in a swimming pool filled with very sudsy water. As we enter, a topless woman hollers as she careens down the slide and lands with a terrific splash in the pool. I wipe suds out of my hair while Wyatt cackles with delight.

“Isn't this magnificent? Do you want to take a turn on the slide?”

“Um, no thanks. Actually, I was looking for the bathroom–”

“Oh, hey, there’s Thelonius! I haven’t seen him in ages. Let’s go see what he makes of the Westworld guy playing him in that movie…”

“I really need to–”

Wyatt literally drags me by the hand over to talk to another of his friends. And another. I check the time and find I’ve been his escort/captive for over half an hour, and still no sign of Gray.

Worse, I’m not where Gray left me. He could have returned from his recon already. Now he might be wandering around, worried about me just like I am about him.

It’s all so frustrating, and Wyatt doesn’t seem to hear anything I say other than the first couple of words. His drug-addled posturing is more than just inconvenient. It has me on the verge of panic, because I can’t find Gray anywhere.

At last, I pull my hand out of Wyatt’s grip and give him a sheepish smile.

“I really need to visit the little girl’s room,” I say.

He blinks several times, and then frowns.

“All right, but hurry back. There’s so much more I want to show you.”

Anxious urgency drives my stride as I head back to the main ballroom. I go back to my pillar in case Gray is looking for me. After less than five minutes, I get antsy and start looking for a way past the bouncers again.

I’m getting close to a full-on panic. The longer I go without seeing Gray, the more worried I get. I decide it’s time for drastic measures. I tug my dress down to show a bit more cleavage, and arrange a vacant look on my face before walking right past the bouncers.

“Where are you going?”

I give the bouncer a look like he’s just asked the stupidest question ever.

“Look, honey, I’m supposed to ‘entertain’ some important folks back there. If you want to piss off big man Wyatt, you be my guest. In fact, why don’t I go get him right now?”

I turn as if to leave.

“Wait,” the guard says. “Go ahead. Do you have a business card? I could use some company later.”

I give him a wink full of promises I’ll never keep.

“I’ll come find you later, big boy.”

As I walk down the hallway at last, my triumph is matched by my inward cringe. Big boy? What year is this? Gray definitely makes this spy stuff look a lot easier than it actually is.

I pull my dress back up as I turn the corner and find myself in a maze of hallways. I have no way of knowing which way Gray went. I remember reading in Cosmo that if you want to get out of a maze, you stick to the left wall and you’ll eventually make it to the end.

I take a left, and then another left, wandering darkened hallways. I pass by a couple of closed doors with the sound of drunken partying on the other side. I’m pretty sure at least one of the rooms features a live sex show. I’m too worried about Gray to be scandalized, though.

Once I make it past the private party rooms, I find myself in a corridor bordering the massive back lawn. Guards patrol with flashlights out there, so I stay away from the windows and keep my phone tucked in my purse, so they won't see the glow of my screen.

I come to a right angle turn, and rush around it…right into the chest of one of the guards I’d duped before.

“There you are,” he says, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Mr. Wyatt is looking for you–”

I don’t think, I just move. My hand darts into my purse and withdraws the stun gun. The huge man looks at it and laughs.

“What are you going to do with that? Just hand it over before you get hurt.”

He reaches for the stun gun. I jam the metal studs into his forearm and squeeze the trigger. The snapping crackle of electricity is so loud it scares me. The guard spasms, his mouth open in a silent scream, before he collapses to the floor.

He’s still moving, so I jab him in the back and pull the trigger again. He seizes up, then collapses fully onto the floor, groaning slightly. I stop shocking him and stow the stun gun in my purse, half-running down the hallway.

“Gray?” I yell, no longer worried about stealth. “Gray, where are you?”

I come upon a set of double doors, closed tight. I can see light coming from underneath, and hear voices on the other side. I reach for the door handle when my shoe squishes onto the wet carpet.

My gaze darts down, then widens with horror. I’m standing in a small pool of blood.

“Gray–”

A hand clamps over my mouth, silencing my scream.