Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine

The Los Angeles area pretty much overflows with excellent bars, but as far as I'm concerned, none of them hold a candle to Austin's Driskill Hotel bar with its dark wood, lush lighting, incredible ceiling, and Texas-themed sculptures. It's friendly and comfortable, and it's been my favorite since the first time I went to South By Southwest when I was a sophomore in college.

I'd flown to Texas to meet up with an old high school boyfriend. He'd taken me to the Driskill for a drink, and then surprised me by having also booked a room in the famously haunted hotel. We didn't see any ghosts, but I did see a little bit of heaven that night.

Noah Carter has already claimed a table by the time we arrive, and I recognize him right away by his coppery red hair, green eyes, and friendly smile. What surprises me is that he recognizes me as well.

"It's so good to see you," he tells me, clasping my hand as Ash pulls a chair out for me. "I'm so sorry about the circumstances."

I thank him for the concern—and for the help. Ash brought me up to speed on the plane, so I know that Noah's optimistic about tracing the money to its ultimate destination once we transfer it tomorrow.

"Assuming the trace works, we'll be able to get it back, right?"

"We certainly hope so," Noah tells me as Ash squeezes my hand. "The bigger goal is to find the people behind all of this. Then the money situation will sort itself out."

I just nod. While I appreciate the thought, I'm still hoping that the money can be reclaimed. I hate knowing how much Ash is sacrificing for me. But at the same time, I really do love him for making the sacrifice.

Love .

That word has been popping into my head since last night. And even before last night, if I'm honest. And as I sit in this dark bar and listen to these two men discuss how this is all going to go down tomorrow, I can't help but face the truth—somewhere along the way, I fell in love with Ashton Stone. I'm not even sure if that fall started years ago or yesterday or just moments ago when he rested his palm on my thigh under the table.

It doesn't matter. I love him. And even though I haven't told him yet, it feels really, really, good.

"So how will this work?" I ask Noah, forcing my thoughts back to the practical. "And did you get anything from the URLs?"

Noah looks to Ash first, then shakes his head. "Nothing. Whoever set them up knew what they were doing. We're monitoring them, though. If they log-on, there's a good chance we can triangulate their location."

"Really? How?"

Noah and Ash exchange a look, and I roll my eyes. "Techno magic," I say.

Noah grins. "Something like that."

"Is it legal?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

I lean against Ash, who pulls me close. "I'm gonna go with no," I say, as Ash laughs, then kisses my forehead.

"It's actually the money that'll give us the best shot," Ash tells me. "Sucks to have to risk that much, but Noah has some tricks up his sleeve."

I turn to Noah, who looks smug. "Digital currency marking. It's like using a florescent marker on a hundred-dollar bill. We just do it digitally."

"That will work?"

"The marking, yes. Tracing it to the source…" He trails off with a shrug. "It's something my company's been developing for law enforcement."

I whip around to face Ash. "The rules?—"

"Noah isn't law enforcement, remember? And this tech is still entirely his."

"Besides," Noah adds, "they will never spot the trace."

My stomach twists, but calms when Ash takes my hand, then leans over and whispers, "Trust me."

"Okay," I say. Because the truth is that I do.

With a smile to Noah, I scoop up some more salsa with a chip, then lean against Ash, determined to enjoy the evening.

Somehow, I manage to pull that off.

For the next hour, we don't even talk about the blackmail. Instead, I sip wine as I listen to Ash and Noah catch up. Noah talking about how proud he is of his wife, who's apparently a singer. And Ash sharing some info about the INX-20 in techno-speak, so I have only the vaguest of takeaways.

"Sorry, Bree," Noah says as the waitress brings another round of drinks. "We haven't caught up in a while."

As I'm assuring him it's no problem, my phone screen flashes with an incoming call from Kari. "And now you can catch up some more," I tease as I stand. I head toward the exit into the hotel and park myself on the stair landing overlooking the ornate lobby. I know from experience that cellular reception sucks in the bar. Hopefully, I'll be able to better hear my friend out here.

"Guess what!" Her voice is so enthusiastic I can practically see her bouncing behind the counter at Upper Crust.

"I'm not even going to try. Knowing you it could be anything from global warming to new sandals."

"Not even close," she says. "Martin and I are coming to Vegas!"

"Martin? I thought—" I cut myself off, realizing that Aria had gotten it wrong when she said Martin had moved from Kari to Maggie.

"You thought what?"

"I had his name wrong," I lie. "I thought it was Marvin. But, listen, I hope you two have fun in Vegas. I'm kind of in the middle of a?—"

"We were hoping to have drinks with you. You're there, right? I mean," she adds, lowering her voice, "I saw one of those nasty articles about you and Ashton Stone, and that he's paying you—well, anyway. I'm sure you know."

"I do." I try not to sound too cold. Kari can be pretty clueless, and she entirely lacks filters, but she's still a friend. "It's crazy the shit some of those tabloid reporters will think up. But we're not in Vegas, anymore. We're in Austin."

"Oh. Why?"

I like Kari well enough, but she's a gossip, so there is no way I'm giving her even a hint of a clue as to why I'm really here. "Ash lives here. I told him it's one of my favorite cities, so he suggested we spend a few days here before going back to LA."

"So, things are good with you two?"

"They're great," I say, with real enthusiasm. Because despite all the hell swirling around us, the me-and-Ash part of the equation is truly fantastic.

"Well, I'm totally bummed we won't be seeing you, but I'm super-psyched that you two are getting along despite all that publicity bullshit."

"It's not fun," I tell her. "But we're doing okay."

"Oh! Oh! I forgot to tell you. I finished Mystics at Dawn . It is just as good as Bethany's first book."

I press my hand against my heart, only then realizing how nervous I am about book two in the series. It's still months from release, but considering how crazy my life has become, I've barely even thought about it. "I'm so, so glad to hear that," I tell Kari. "Your opinion means a lot."

She'd read an early manuscript of Reveries and had both pumped up my ego and given me some decent notes, so I'd offered her this book as well. "I still have one more round of revisions," I tell her. "Anything—wait. Hang on."

There's a commotion across the bar, and I peer in to see folks standing from the two and four-tops, craning their necks toward the far side of the bar that opens directly onto the street.

At first, I can't see a thing, then I see her . Kiki King. A multiple Grammy winner who I now remember lives in Austin.

"So sorry, but I have to go," I tell Kari. "We'll talk about the book later. Have fun in Vegas."

"Oh, I just?—"

But my finger's already on the button to end the call, and now I hurry back toward our table, hoping I'll be able to catch another glimpse.

"You okay?" Ash asks, as I slide into my chair and start to crane my neck looking for her.

"I just saw Kiki King. I love her stuff. If she sits anywhere near us, do you think it would be totally inappropriate to ask for her autograph?"

Ash starts to answer, then just closes his mouth, looking so amused I give him a light slap on the arm. "Stop laughing at me. I don't fan girl often, but I really like her. I've seen her in concert twice already."

"I'm not laughing at you," he assures me. Then tilts his head up and says, "Hey, Kiki."

I spin around so fast I almost give myself whiplash, then feel my mouth drop open when Kiki Freaking King slides onto Noah's lap and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

That's when I remember that King is Kiki's stage name. Her real name is Kiki Porter Carter, and considering how long Noah has worked with Damien, I have no idea how I missed this little factoid about his wife's identity.

"Ash," she says with a huge smile. "I'd give you a hug, but I'm a little trapped."

"She's been gone for a week," Noah tells us all. "I'm not letting her off my lap for at least another five minutes."

"I love your work," I say as a man I recognize from parties at Nikki and Damien's house joins our group. A man with chestnut hair, broad shoulders, and hard assessing eyes. Media mogul Matthew Holt, who I happen to know is also Kiki's producer.

He also owns a sex club in Los Angeles, but I'm not sure that's public knowledge, and I'm certainly not going to mention it now.

He pauses, frowning as he looks at me. I'm about to introduce myself when he taps the side of his nose. "Bree, right? We've met at various Stark functions."

"Yes," I say, more than awed by the man's memory. Then again, he has his fingers in pretty much every entertainment pie, not to mention various other entrepreneurial ventures. It's probably fair to assume that men like that tend to remember random facts, stock prices, and the names of people they've met.

"Matthew, I'm about to drag Noah—and I assume Kiki by association—over to my condo. We have a few things to talk about in a less public venue. Care to join us?"

His eyes sweep the room, landing on a stunning woman standing next to the piano and scowling at her phone. "Actually," Matthew says, "I'm going to pass. I think I have a date." His mouth curves into a knowing smile. "And if it turns out I'm wrong, I'll give you a shout before I pop by."

"Fair enough," Ash says. "Drinks when we're both back in LA?"

"Absolutely." His eyes meet mine. "It will be nice to see you again, Bree."

"Oh," I say stupidly. Because I'm not sure if he's assuming there's more between Ash and me than there really is… or if he's expecting there will be by the time we meet again.

Ash's rooftop condo is absolutely stunning. Not only does it look out over Lady Bird Lake—which from what I can tell is really a river that that separates North and South Austin—but it also has a view of the Congress Avenue Bridge and the famous bats that live beneath it.

Or, at least, that's what Ash tells me. Apparently, they come out at sunset, and since we didn't get to the condo until almost midnight, we missed tonight's show.

"Tomorrow," he says as I stand on the patio and look across the river to the lights of South Austin. He brushes a kiss to my temple. "We'll sit out here with champagne, watch the bats fly into the sunset, and celebrate the fact that those prick blackmailers are in custody and won't ever bother you again."

"You really believe that?" He's standing behind me, his arms around my waist, and I twist to look up at him.

"How can I not? Have you seen my table?"

Despite the circumstances, I can't help but laugh. Noah has completely taken over the oval-shaped dining table. There are three computers, some sort of gizmo that looks like a Big Black Box, but which Noah swears is the heart of it all, a bazillion cords, and various other techno gadgets that I'm assured will help Noah trace the money Ash will be transferring on my behalf at two tomorrow, which is also noon Pacific time.

As Ash and Noah settle in to talk techno, Kiki and I take a bottle of wine out onto the patio, and, despite me having a serious fan girl moment, we have a reasonably normal time talking life, the universe, and men while we sip a very nice chardonnay.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this," Kiki says. "But Noah's the smartest man I know—don't tell Ash or Damien," she adds, making me laugh. "He'll track the money, and he'll find out who's behind this, and it will all be over."

"I hope so," I say. "I'd thought it was done when Rory was captured. Then it all came back months later when we learned that he wasn't the only one involved."

"And now this."

I nod. "Now this."

"As soon as it's over, you and Ash need to take a trip."

"That would be amazing," I tell her. "But…" I trail off with a shrug.

"But?"

"We—I mean, well, we kind of got thrown together. I needed help, and he stepped in, and that's great, but after?" I blink, fighting back tears. "I mean, I want...and I think...but how can I truly know?"

She tilts her head, the light of the moon glimmering off her hair. "Maybe you have the question backwards. How can you not know?"

I shake my head, clueless. "What do you mean?"

She leans forward, then lowers her voice. "I mean that he's in love with you. And unless my powers of observation have really started to tank, you're in love with him, too."

I pull my knees up and hug them, feeling all of twelve years old.

Her laugh is as musical as her singing voice. "Can I give you some totally unsolicited advice?"

"Um, okay?"

"Don't be scared to try."

I hug my knees tighter. "What do you mean?"

"You both have so much baggage. Noah and I did, too. Everyone does, I think. But with you two… I don't know that you actually have more baggage, but it's definitely heavier."

She shoots me a grimace. "Forgive the metaphor. I've been traveling a lot and living out of a suitcase. All I'm trying to say is that you both have reasons to bolt. You seem perfectly fine to me, but I'm guessing you still have issues from being kidnapped."

"Understatement."

She offers me a supportive smile. "And Ash has, well, Ash has the family from hell on one side, and a much kinder albeit unconventional family on the other. That boy was put through the wringer growing up, and it's a miracle he turned out sane. I think you're good for him. He probably thinks he's not good for you."

"What are you saying?"

She combs her fingers through her hair, then shrugs. "Honesty? I'm not really sure. I guess it's just that from where I'm sitting, it's obvious you both love each other. So fight for it if you have to. Because if there's one thing I've learned over the last few years with Noah, it's that love is the most important thing. And if you have to go to the mattresses for it, then that's what you do."