Page 23 of Forbidden Eyes
“And Sofia?” I look up, hoping for something to make me feel useful, or even wanted here. “Don't use the term 'uncle' again. Especially not out on the floor. It paints you as a target.”
As soon as the doors open, he’s off, striding powerfully across the lobby to the front desk. A tall, skinny man with glasses turns to greet him. He shakes his hand and turns to me.
“This is Sofia. She’s shadowing me.”
The manager nods in my direction before we both follow Carter.
Again.
For the next two and a half hours, I’m quiet. I listen intently, watching how Carter interacts with the staff. He’s efficient. Succinct. And gets right to the point. There’s no conversation. From what I’ve heard and seen, everything is legitimate. Not that I’d know what to look for to identify it as anything else, but him saying I could be a target made me think of all sorts of things.
“I’m going to change. Shall I meet you in the restaurant?” I offer to Carter, who’s finally not in the company of some other Cane employee.
“We’re booked into C-Code at seven.”
This time he doesn’t offer to babysit.
The excitement from earlier has left me feeling deflated. Seeing what actually happens in business isn’t all that interesting, and Carter barely looked at me for the rest of the afternoon. Instead he seemed to make every attempt to ignore me other than making sure I understood what was happening. At least I still have a date-ish to look forward to.
Back in the room, I slip into the midnight-blue cocktail dress and the more elaborate heels. Nothing too fancy, but worthy of a Cane. I pin my hair up, remembering my mom said I always looked more grown up that way.
I head for C-Code and scan the empty tables for Carter. The maître d’ takes pity on me. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, a table for Carter Wade?”
“Yes. This way.” He seats me at an empty table, looking out onto an empty casino floor. Only a dozen or so croupiers stand behind their tables. Pressed shirts, immaculate uniforms.
“Would you like to see the drinks menu?”
“No, she would not,” Carter interrupts.
“Sorry, Sir.”
He joins me, picking up the menu before he’s even acknowledged me.
I venture to break the sudden chill between us. “Was everything in order this afternoon? I couldn’t really tell if you were pleased with the preparations or not.”
“Everything is fine. They’re ready. And the entertainment for later is setting up.”
“Entertainment?”
“Yes, we have an aerial and laser show in the main room at midnight.”
That’s hours away, and although I have no restrictions and more freedom than I’ve ever had, it seems like I don’t know how to enjoy it on my own. Not surprising, given how little I've actually done with my life.
Carter spends much of the dinner with his phone glued to his hand. He also makes three calls. At least one is to Uncle Quinn. I know because it’s the only time he made eye contact with me, almost as if he was visually checking I was still here.
I distract myself by watching him from the corner of my eye. Glances that linger on his neck, his firm-set jaw, his hands as he balls his fists while speaking to someone in a hushed tone. Maybe my mood is more from lack of attention than anything else.
“Sofia, I’m sorry. I have another errand I need to run—a quick meeting with a supplier. You’re welcome to stay here. I won’t be more than an hour, tops.”
“Do I have a choice?”
He nods as if that’s all the explanation I need.
He turns and almost runs through the back of the restaurant area. He let me trail around with him all day; why should this meeting be any different? I stand and stride over to where he disappeared.
“Excuse me, Miss?”