Favreau was in the middle of his dinner by the time the maitre d’ sat Alex at a small table across from him. It had taken a fifty-dollar tip to get the table she wanted.
As Favreau looked up, the maitre d’ draped a napkin over Alex’s lap and said, “Will you be dining alone this evening?”
“Yes.”
He handed her a menu encased in leather. “Enjoy your meal.”
She stopped him before he could leave. With Favreau within earshot, she wanted to sell her cover while she had the chance. “Excuse me, but my producer would love to include your cafe in our profile of the hotel. Who would he contact to arrange a tour of the kitchen?”
The maitre d’ seemed unimpressed. Maybe she needed to slip him another fifty. “The general manager. He’s available during office hours. Is there anything else?”
She told him no, thanked him, and when he went away she opened the menu and pretended to ignore Favreau as she read through her options. Several times, she felt Favreau’s gaze on her but she kept hers on the menu. The man wasn’t exactly eye candy, and according to Stonewell’s information, had come to expect to pay for the women in his life. So she couldn’t make it seem too easy for him. Sure, Alexandra Barnes could be bought — but not too cheaply.
When she finally looked up from the menu, Favreau was concentrating on his meal again. She let him catch her watching him before she looked again at the menu and pretended he wasn’t there.
She counted to sixty, then put the menu down and called across to him. “Excuse me.”
He had just taken a mouthful and seemed surprised she had spoken to him. He swallowed and said, “Yes?”
“Do you mind if I ask what you ordered? I’m having a hard time deciding.”
“The mutton,” he said. “But it’s a little on the spicy side, so you might want to try something else.” He grinned. “Unless you like it spicy.”
He was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and Alex felt like rolling her eyes, but she resisted. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I’d better order something else. Any suggestions?”
“I can think of a few I’d like to make, but no, this is the first time I’ve eaten here.”
“Oh? When did you get in?”
“This morning.”
“Are you here on holiday or business?”
“A little of both, I guess. What about you?”
She smiled. “Strictly business, I’m afraid. I couldn’t afford this place otherwise.”
“I saw you in the lobby. Are you with some kind of news station?”
“I wish. I’m still working my way toward the networks. In the meantime I’m doing destination profiles for a travel website. Maybe you’ve heard of us. Travel Planet Lifestyles?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have, but I’ll be sure to check it out now that I’ve seen what they have to offer. You have a lot of videos on there?”
“Actually, this is my first gig for TPL.”
“Well, I’m sure the camera loves you. I’m thinking you may be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever—”
“Alex?”
The voice came from across the room and she swiveled her head, surprised to see none other than Thomas Gérard, in all of his Clive Owen glory, brushing past the maitre d’ and heading in her direction.
What the hell?
“Alex,” he said again as he stepped up to the table, blocking Favreau from view. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you said you were going to Sweden.”
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. If the words bounty hunter or fugitive came out of his mouth, her cover would be blown.
“Change of plans,” she said quickly. “What are you doing here?”
“A client invited me. He has a house he wants me to look at and I was near the island, so…” He paused. “I really can’t believe it’s you. After that last phone call, I was convinced I’d never see you again. I keep thinking about what a wonderful night we had and I—”
“Thomas, not here, okay?”
“What?”
She tried to send him a message with her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m here on a job.”
“You mean—?”
“Yes. I’m working. And right now I just want to eat in peace, if you don’t mind.”
He put his hands on the table and leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Listen, I don’t know what I said or did to upset you, but—”
“Thomas, I mean it. Not now.”
He looked at her as if she had slapped him. “Then when?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. But I have work to do and I can’t have you interfering. Do you understand?”
He stood up. “I suppose I do. Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas, I really am, but this just isn’t the right time. How long will you be on the island?”
“A few days.”
“Then we’ll talk before I leave. Are you staying at the hotel?”
He nodded.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll call you. I promise.”
He stood there and she could see he wanted to say more, but he didn’t push. Instead, he bowed slightly, said, “Enjoy your meal,” then turned and walked out of the cafe.
Alex felt like the world’s biggest bitch, but at the moment that was the least of her worries.
When she looked over at Favreau’s table—
— he was gone.
CHAPTER 17
“Who the hell was that?” Cooper asked as Alex emerged from the cafe.
Deuce and Warlock were nowhere to be found.
“You heard all that, huh?”
He tapped his ear. “You’re on comm, remember? Who is he?”
“Believe it or not, he’s my real estate broker.”
“The guy who contacted you about the Key Largo house?”
She nodded.
“Jesus, Alex. Did we just get blown?”
“No. You heard everything. I think we’re okay. He didn’t say anything compromising.”
“I don’t care,” Cooper told her. “This is sloppy. What’s he doing here? Did he follow you?”
“Were you listening or not? He thought I was in Sweden. It’s a stupid coincidence.”
“And you’re sure he’s just your real estate broker? Because that isn’t what it sounded like.”
Alex frowned. “What difference does it make?”
“Because if this guy is gonna be following you around like a dog in heat—”
“He didn’t follow me.”
“So you say. But he didn’t sound like someone who’s all that anxious to go away, either. And that could be a problem, Alex. A big problem.”
“For the op?” she said. “Or for you?”
Cooper was silent. Which was where he always went when he got angry. She’d seen it a hundred times in Baghdad.
But she had to say it. His anger seemed more personal than usual.
“Look,” she told him, “everything’ll be fine, so let’s do what we came here to do, okay? Where’s Favreau?”
Cooper did not look happy. “Deuce, are you reading this?”
“Oh boy, am I,” Deuce said in their ears.
“What’s Favreau up to?”
“He’s on the beach, taking a smoke break. What do you want me to do?”
“Hang back and let me think about this.”
One of the elevator doors opened and Warlock stepped off and approached them. “Bloke went up to his room. He’s on the eighth floor.”
Alex realized he was talking about Gérard and glared at Cooper. “You had him followed?”
“Of course I did. It’s standard protocol.” He turned to Warlock. “You got any cigarettes on you?”
Warlock patted his jacket pocket. “Always. Why?”
“Give them to me.”