“Hi, I’m Memphis Lockwood.”
The woman’s black eyebrows shoot up to her equally dark widow’s peak. “I’ve seen you before. On TV.” She jerks a look to either side, like she’s afraid she’s being watched. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t give you any information for whatever you’re investigating, ma’am. It’s against policy.”
“It’s not official business, I promise ...” I glance at her name tag. “Brianna. My mother is staying here. Cynthia Lockwood. We got separated on the way back from dinner, and I want to make sure she made it back safely. She’s not used to the city and her phone is dead, so I can’t reach her.”
“Your mother?” Brianna looks suspicious as hell, but to her credit, she types something into the computer.
“Yes, Cynthia Lockwood.”
Given the fact that we have the same last name, I’m hoping Brianna breaks protocol and can give me something. She looks up from the computer and glances between me and Cannon.
“I’m not technically supposed to confirm or deny if a guest is registered at the hotel, and I can’t give out room numbers. But if you give me a description of what she looks like, I can tell you if I’ve seen her come through the lobby recently.”
Cannon curls an arm around my hip and squeezes.
“That’d be great,” I reply, then give her a rundown of my mother’s perfectly coiffed blond updo and the blue dress she was wearing tonight.
“I remember seeing her!” Brianna chirps brightly. “She stopped to request softer pillows and a minibar restock before going up.”
“Thank you,” I tell her with a smile as Cannon’s grip tightens on my hip. “I really appreciate that.”
As we leave the desk, I glance up at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to slip her some cash to get her to talk.”
One side of his mouth quirks up and there’s a gleam in his gorgeous eyes. “Did you want me to?”
“No, but ...” I reach for his hand and weave our fingers together.
“You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever met. You had everything under control.” We pause at the revolving glass door, and a burst of fresh air blows by with each new guest that enters through it. “But if you ever want me to jump in, all you have to do is give me a sign.”
“I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear over the voices in the lobby.
He pulls me tighter into his side and leans down to brush his lips against my cheek. “If that’s all it takes, I’ll have you falling in love with me all over again every damn day.”
“Can we go back to your place now?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light, but really, I just want to climb him like a tree and show him exactly how I feel about what he just said.
“Damn right. That’s where we’re heading next.”
But as I slide into my seat in the town car, my purse starts buzzing.
Jesus Christ, Mom. Your timing blows, I think as I fish it out.
But it’s not my personal phone with my mom’s number on the screen. It’s Randi’s number on my Drew Carson cell.
I flash it at Cannon as the driver pulls out into traffic. “What do I do?”
“Answer it.”
With a swallow, I tap the screen and lift the phone to my ear. “Randi?”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, or why you looked different at the restaurant tonight, but you need to get home. Your apartment door is kicked in.” Her voice, in true Randi fashion, is loud enough that Cannon can hear her too. “I called the cops, but who knows how long they’ll be.”
“Fuck,” he whispers and then rattles off my address to the driver. “Tell her we’re on our way.”
“I heard him,” Randi says. “And you owe me a fucking explanation, Drew. Seriously.”
13
Cannon