“Absolutely, sir. Al I need is the claim-check.”
“Okay, although this seems very weird.” Emma rummaged through her purse and produced her ticket envelope with the claim-check stapled to it. “You can’t miss which one is mine. At least I don’t think you can. It’s orange, but I’ve written my name on the luggage tag in case there are two orange suitcases.”
“Orange. Got it.”
“And it’s about so big.” She measured out the size with her hands. “Oh, and I have a lime green ribbon tied on the handle to make it even easier to identify.”
Aidan tried not to shudder. This was why he’d wanted to take the corporate jet, so they wouldn’t be dealing with the horrors of baggage claim and orange suitcases with green ribbons tied on the handle. Emma would no doubt cal him a snob for those thoughts, so he kept them to himself.
“I’l remember that, ma’am,” the chauffeur said. “First I’l settle you both in the car, and then I’l fetch your luggage. If you’l fol ow me.”
Emma turned to Aidan as they trailed after the chauffeur. “What about you? Don’t you have luggage?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Probably not, but you might as Welltel me. Are you buying a new wardrobe when we get to the hotel?”
“No. I had my clothes delivered to the penthouse last night. They’re already hanging in the closet.”
“Of course they are.” She threw up both hands. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Give yourself time.” Aidan was struggling not to laugh. “You’l get the hang of this.”
“No, I won’t. I’l never get the hang of how the other half lives. It’s crazy.”
“Here’s the thing, Emma. By traveling with me, you’l be safer than you would be if you traveled by yourself. That’s part of the security service. The resources of Wal ace Enterprises will create a protective barrier around you while you’re in Chicago, where this Theo character lives.”
“Al this for a nineteen-year-old. If he knew, he’d be so flattered.”
“Trust me. He’l know. One of the tactics will be letting him think you’re engaged to me.”
“Hey! You can’t just spring something like that on me, Aidan. I should have something to say about it, don’t you think?”
“If we were real y engaged, you’d have everything to say about it. But this is a security measure that has nothing to do with reality. Al you have to do is go along with me on it.”
She walked in silence beside him, her back rigid.
“Emma? will you rol with this concept or not?”
“You could have warned me. How long have you been planning to handle the weekend this way?”
He hesitated to tel her that he’d come up with the idea before they’d left New York. He’d been trying to figure out how to tel her and had hoped he could do it over cake.
“Not long,” he said. “Until just recently, I was stil working out the details.”
“How recently?”
“This morning on the way to the airport.”
She stopped so quickly a man behind her almost ran over her. He muttered curses as he swerved around them. “Are you tel ing me you’re making this up as you go along?”
“No! Look, I haven’t had a lot of time to work on the strategy, and I’m refining it as ideas come to me. At first I thought being your media escort would be the perfect cover, but then I realized Theo wouldn’t be put off by a media escort. A fiancé, though, is another story.”
“As I’ve said before, Aidan, I don’t need al this fire-power. Chances are we won’t see Theo at al , but if I’m wrong and he shows up at the autograph table with a lewd suggestion, I’l tel him to get lost. That should take care of it.”
Barry turned around with a questioning glance. “Mr. Wal ace? will you and Ms.
Gavin be coming with me, then?”
“Yes.” Aidan cupped Emma’s elbow and guided her toward the exit. Touching her at al sent shivers of awareness through his system, but they needed to get moving.
“We’l talk more in the car.”
She al owed herself to be hustled along. “We can do that, but I real y don’t like the fake engagement idea. I realize authors aren’t front-page news, but if there’s even the slightest chance word could get back to my mother, then—”
“Does she know about the e-mails?”
“No, and I don’t want her to. She has a tendency to be overprotective as it is.
When I first moved out of her apartment and into my loft, she checked on me twice a day. That’s tapered off some, but if she thinks I have some cyberstalker on my trail, she’l camp out in my living room for the duration. I love her to death, but she could make my life a living hel .”
Aidan wondered what Betty Gavin would do if she discovered her daughter was about to spend the weekend at the Palmer House with a werewolf. “So that means she doesn’t know I tagged along for your Chicago leg of the book tour, either?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Just asking.” He broke the connection between them so they could each navigate the revolving door leading outside.
“I didn’t tel her I broke up with Doug, either. The combination of that announcement and tel ing her I need you as a bodyguard on this trip would make her assume I got rid of Doug because you and I are lovers. What a disaster that would be.”
“Oh?” That pricked his ego more than a little.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.” He handed Barry his computer case, and the chauffeur loaded it and Emma’s case into the front seat of the town car.
“I’m just saying that it would be bad enough if she thought we were lovers when we’re not. If she hears through the grapevine that we’re engaged when we’re not—Well, I can’t even imagine the fal out.”
“I can see the problem.” And he did. What had seemed like a bril iant plan during the plane ride now looked less than bril iant considering how Emma’s mother might react if she accidental y heard about any of this. Aidan understood the tricky nature of family dynamics. The Wal ace pack had its share of issues.
Barry held open the back door of the town car and helped Emma inside. Aidan fol owed her in and noted the interior of the car smel ed like chocolate. This trip was becoming more complicated by the minute, so he hoped that at least the cake would be good.
“I can’t believe this.” Emma stared at the silver tray Barry settled on her lap. In the center sat a large wedge of chocolate cake with dark chocolate frosting—topside up, no less—on a crystal plate. At least it looked like crystal. Considering how the trip had gone so far, she’d be will ing to bet it was. An ornate silver fork lay on a linen napkin beside the plate.
“Bon appétit,” Barry said as he closed the back door. “I’l be right back with your luggage.”
“That won’t work.” She glanced over at Aidan. “He can’t leave the car parked here while he gets the luggage. We’l be ticketed.”
“Trust me.We won’t be ticketed.”
“What do you mean? Of course we will ! Or worse yet, we’l be hooked up to a tow truck and ...” She trailed off as Aidan simply smiled at her. “Did you bribe someone?”
“Not necessary. Barry propped the sign with the Wal ace name on it in the front window.”
She looked at the front windshield, and sure enough, that placard was leaning against it. “So what, the Wal aces have diplomatic immunity or something?”
“Or something. Aren’t you going to eat your cake?”
She gazed at the piece of cake, which had those clever curls of shaved chocolate on the top layer of frosting and one perfect red strawberry nestled in the curls. A strawberry in February.
Her tummy growled. “Yes, I’m going to eat this cake before Barry gets back, so I won’t end up with it in my lap when he starts going eighty on the Outer Drive.”
“He won’t go eighty.”
“Sure he will.” She picked up the fork and unfolded the napkin in the little strip of her lap that wasn’t covered by the tray. “I’m sure nobody will ticket him for speeding, either. I’m surprised there’s not a little Wal ace family flag suction-cupped to the car.”
“There is.”
“No way. Where?”
“It’s on the back fender. I guess you missed seeing it when we got in.”
“I most certainly did.” Emma picked up the heavy silver tray and handed it to him.
“Hold this. I have to see the flag.”
Aidan obligingly took the tray while she unbuckled her shoulder harness and turned around so she could get on her knees and peer out the back window. “I’l be damned.” She studied the purple flag, which was suitably smal and tasteful at about nine square inches. Because there was no breeze, she couldn’t see the crest clearly, but it was definitely a family crest.
“What’s on it, a pile of gold bul ion?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked over at him. “That was snarky, and you don’t deserve snarky when you went to al the trouble of getting me that cake.”
“Which I’m patiently holding for you. And Barry will be back any minute.”
“You’re right.” She slid back down to her seat and re-fastened the shoulder harness. “Thanks for holding my cake.” She took the tray and felt the brush of his fingers against hers. Zing. She was aware of him al over again. But she’d have to make do with cake.
She picked up the ornate fork, which looked as if it came out of an antique set of silverware. “Eating in front of you feels very rude.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not a chocoholic.”
She sliced down through the moist layers. “Are you implying that I am?”
“You sure reacted like one when I mentioned rich chocolate cake.”
“Then I might as Wellconfess. Coffee and chocolate are my two favorite vices.”
She took the first bite and moaned happily.
“Good?”
“Mmm.” She savored the taste and decided it might be the best chocolate cake she’d ever had in her life.
“Rich?”
That made her laugh. “Yes, and moist and decadent, too. It’s a crime to eat a dessert like this fast. A person should take her time and draw out the pleasure. I hate to just wolf it down.”
He glanced out the window, as if searching the sidewalk for Barry and her suitcase. “Then don’t. Even if Barry does eighty, we won’t get to the interview for a while.”
“Yes, but I’d like to get to the interview without chocolate smeared al over myself.”
Aidan made a funny little noise in the back of his throat.
She glanced over at him. “Is anything wrong? Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine.”
But he didn’t look fine to her. He looked sort of feverish. And the backs of his hands—had they always been that hairy? Maybe she’d been so fixated on the watch she hadn’t noticed. He was a manly guy who probably had lots of healthy hair on his chest and his legs. He might even have hair on his back, although she hoped not. That was a turn off.
As if that mattered. She wasn’t going to be seeing his nak*d back, so whether he had hair growing there was a moot point.
About that time, Barry arrived pul ing her orange suitcase. When she’d bought it, she hadn’t been worried about whether the suitcase was stylish. Her goal was to own a suitcase that didn’t look like every other one circling the belt in baggage claim.
She’d succeeded in that goal. Neon orange with little pink hearts on it, the suitcase could put your eyes out. She hadn’t wanted to mention the little pink hearts when she’d described the suitcase to Barry earlier, and after al , the predominant color was orange. Very orange.
“Your luggage is here,” Aidan said.
“Kind of hard to miss seeing that.” She took another big bite of cake. “I’m afraid I left my Louis Vuitton at home.”
He turned to her and smiled. Fortunately, his eyes had lost that feverish look.
“You don’t have any Louis Vuitton.”
“No, but I had to say that and see if you were paying attention.” As Barry loaded her suitcase in the trunk, she scarfed down some more cake. It was a darned shame to gobble a cake this fine, but she didn’t trust herself not to make a mess.
Barry climbed behind the wheel. “Al set. Ready to rol back there?”
“I stil have cake, Barry. If you can avoid quick lane changes while I’m finishing it, I’d be most appreciative.”
“I’l do my best, Ms. Gavin.” He pul ed away from the curb slowly.
“Barry, are you going to be our driver for the entire weekend?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“Then please cal me Emma. I have a feeling we’l be old friends by Sunday.”
Barry’s smile was reflected in the rearview mirror. “That would be nice. I’ve only met a couple of live authors before.”
“Met any dead ones?”
Barry chuckled. “Good comeback. No, I haven’t met any dead ones, but I have a friend down in New Orleans who swears he has.”
“I like New Orleans. It’s a great town.” She looked over at Aidan, thinking to include him in the conversation she’d started with Barry. “Have you been there?”
She took another good-sized bite of cake.
“No. Wal ace Enterprises contributed quite a bit to the rebuilding effort after Hurricane Katrina, but I’ve never been there.”
“You should go sometime.” The chocolate cake was improving her mood by leaps and bounds. “It’s sort of spooky, but then I enjoy spooky, as you can imagine, considering the books I write.”