Esme woke to the alarm set on her phone, playing one of her favorite songs, 'Get Up And Go'. She flipped on the light in the bathroom and ran the water in the sink to splash her face. In her home, she'd have made a bee line for the fridge, to grab her first morning caffeine fix, a Cherry Dr. Pepper. But, she looked reluctantly at the water, she would have to make due with this at least until she was dressed and could get coffee from the kitchen. After patting her face dry, she began applying her makeup- a little more than usual, since she was going to be out and about. Burgundy lipstick under clear gloss, light blush, brown shadow, eyeliner, lengthening msacara. A touch up of the eyebrows, then it was time to get dressed. She pulled out a pair of well-fitting jeans, tennis shoes, a white tank top under a snug white t-shirt, her ususal work attire. Reaching for her badge, she slipped it around her neck and tucked it under her tank top. After strapping on her holster, she tugged on a short black leather jacket to hide the gun on her right side. She pulled her hair up into a long curly pony tail, shorter strands coming loose to frame her face. She grabbed her sunglasses and placed them on the top of her head, then stuffed her credit card and ID in the inside zipper pocket of her coat. She picked up her phone and looked at the clock. Ten to six. Perfect.
She cracked her door slowly, and stuck her head out. It was still dark, but for the faint glow coming from the kitchen. He was in his room, up, but hadn't been to the kitchen. Rude. She opened her door and went to the kitchen, flipping on the nearest light. Making her way to the coffee pot, she found the grounds in a little bag, sitting in the filters for the coffee maker. Assembling the coffee, she hit the brew now button. As soon as the coffee maker started bubbling and the aroma began to waift, his door opened. He stood in the doorway, half naked. Jeans sitting low over his still shower-wet hips, revealing her V of weakness- she turned away from him and started digging through the cupboards looking for a coffee mug. She refused to let her mind think of his chiseled, glistening chest, or his green eyes, or his wild hair. Shit. Her mind finally comprehended the mugs it had passed over five times in front of her face, so she pulled it down, unintentionally reaching up on her toes, stretching. She felt his eyes on her. Shit. Snatching the mugs and slamming the cupboard, she placed them on the counter, praying silently for the coffee maker to finish it's seemingly eternal process.
"Morning," he said, voice rough with sleep, that stupid lopsided grin on his face.
Did he just have that expression plastered on his face? "Morning," she said shortly. She took the pot before it was complete, and filled her cup, then dumped in the sugar and cream. She didn't even bother to stir as she took a scalding sip and slid the other cup towards him.
"Thanks. Smells great."
"Welcome. Fifteen minutes." Without another glance at him, she retreated back to her room. She had a call to make.
Closing her door, she waited a minute until she couldn't hear him in the kitchen anymore, then for the click of his door again. When she got that confirmation, she pulled out her phone.
He ansered on the third ring. "Hale! Is everything okay?"
She knew she'd woken him. Good. "Fuck no, Grainger. Why the hell did you put me on this case? I am not a damn call girl!" She hissed into the phone. "I want to be taken off this case, regardless of how much he's paying. He's an arrogant son of a bitch with a constant smirk that I want to slap off his face every time I see him. Put another girl on. I refuse to go any farther with this," she whispered loudly.
"Hale! Please, I'm begging you. You know I can't put another girl on the case, you're the best I got. Besides. None of them look like you, and he specifically requested the best looking of my squad-"
"I just got done telling you, Grainger, I'm not a fucking call girl! I'm a cop. Not a- "I hope you brought play clothes" toy."
"Did he really say that?"
"Yes." She let the whispered venom hang before continuing. Her heart was racing, getting more and more worked up.
"Listen, Hale," he said, pausing. She knew the kissing ass part was next. "I'll let you have a week's paid vacation anywhere after this, out of my cut. All expenses paid."
She hesitated, letting him think she was actually considering it. As if she could be bribed. "You listen, Grainger, put someone else on, I don't need a stupid vacation. I want off this case-" she heard a knock on her door, her eyes shot to the clock. Time to go. Shit. "Just a minute!" She called sweetly. "Grainger," she dropped her voice again. "Find a replacement for me within the hour or I quit your squad." She snapped the phone shut, shook her head a couple times and took two deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Two hours, she reminded herself. She prayed that Grainger took her seriously.
She opened her door, to find him standing there, waiting. She hoped he hadn't heard any of her conversation. She'd tried her best to keep it quiet. Even if he had, he was doing a good job of not looking offended. But that's what he did for a living, right? She rolled her eyes and opened the door to the hall, letting him follow.
Once they were in the elevator, he said, "Sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you. You?" She asked, trying to be civil, and not reveal the ice she wanted to show.
"Well enough."
"Good." She gave a brisk nod, then led him to the doors. She saw the valet scrambling to open the car doors. Obviously Grainger had arranged for the car to be ready at 6:15. Nice. She took in the poparazzi waiting to pounce outside, their cameras poised at the door through the glass separating them. There were also a handful of girls, a couple with homemade signs even. It was her turn to smirk. He probably jerked off to the attention. Rolling her eyes, she made note of everyone's hand locations, looking for anything suspicious before she burst through the doors like a bull in a china shop. She kind of hoped that the door hit him in the face. Of course, with her luck, it didn't. The second he stepped through the final set of doors, the madness errupted. The volume went up twenty times, just in the girl's screams alone. Questions being shouted, cameras flashing. Then things began to happen all at once, all in slow motion. When things like this began to happen, it was always her experience that something bad was going to happen.
She stopped in her tracks immediately and did a three sixty. Finding the commotion, she turned towards him, place her hands flat on his chest, fisted in his white tee shirt, but never looking away from the action, and pulled him flush against her and felt his breath caress her neck with the force of the pull, as she watched the girl break through the second line of poparazzi. As she began coming through the first line, she pushed him back, then lunged towards the girl getting ready to leap for him. She took a step forward and caught the girl right after her jumping take off, and grabbed her by her upper arms. She spun around so she had the girl over her right shoulder, and immediately flipped the girl. With her defense mechanisms kicking in automatically, she brought the girl to the ground, two feet from him, pinning her with her knee on the girl's chest.
"Get in the car." She told him, her eyes staying on the girl. She glanced at him over her shoulder watching him dash the last couple of steps to the car without hesitation. Once the door was closed after him, she looked down at the girl. Her brown eyes were wild and unfocused. She obviously wasn't in controll of herself.
"Listen to me," Esme shook the girl gently, trying to get her attention. "He's gone. You made a great first impression for yourself. Now stay away from him." She stood up and looked around quickly, all the cameramen had shocked expressions on their faces, the rest of the crowd stilled silent, watching her. Some with fascination, some slightly scared. "Go get a life," she told them, then rounded the hood of the car and climbed in. She pulled away from the curb quickly, glancing in the rearview. The crowd was stairing after them. Then he slid into her line of view in the mirror, his hand running through his hair repeatedly.
"That was bloody amazing," he said, his accent thick. "Thank you. Really. I think you just might have saved my life," he sighed, looking at her in the mirror. She brought her eyes back to the road, and pulled her glasses down to hide her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline racing through her system.
"Not a problem," she said quietly.
After a minute, he told her the location of the shoot. She nodded and mentally mapped out her quickest possible route. About another five later, he said almost inaudibly, "Please don't quit."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, then drew together instantly. Shit. He'd heard. "I'm sorry, Mr.-" she hesitated, trying to get her mouth to say his name. "Pattinson, but I don't think I'm qualified-" she began, saying the first thing that popped into her head.
"Don't lie to me. You're more than qualified, obviously with that last display." He slid up in between the front two seats, hands on the corners of the seats, leaning in towards her. Too close for her comfort. Fortunately she had the task of driving to keep herself from getting lost in his eyes. "You were amazing there- I didn't think you could-"
Why did she have to feel his breath on her neck? But it didn't matter now, as he'd already started pushing her buttons with the last five words out of his mouth. But if she was going to stick with her story, as false as it was, she had to agree with him.
"I know, 'cause I'm a girl, right?" She saw him shrug a shoulder. "I'm a cop, remember?"
"Wouldn't be able to forget that now," he said quietly.
"And don't even start to tell me how that turned you on in some weird way," she interjected.
"But it did- not at the moment but after-"
"I knew it! I knew it."
"You have an hour left?" He said after glancing at the clock on the dash. She nodded, and pulled up at the back side of a trailer and threw the car into park. "What if I promised I wouldn't say anything again about how you turn me on. Would you stay? Turns out, I guess I kind of need you," he said softly, his fingers dancing on the corner of the seat closer to her. If she didn't know better, it looked like he was restraining himself from touching her, which was more than he did last night. "I'll respect your boundaries, okay?" She didn't say anything. "Please, at least think about it?"
"Maybe. You need to get to work or I'll get my ass chewed for making you late." She hopped out of the car, glanced around, taking in the placement of everything, went to his door and opened it, waiting for him to get out. "Please?" he asked.
"Boundaries," was all she said, and he immediately took a step back with a nod. "Let's go." She led him closely through the crowd of crews, to the door of his trailer, the one with the big sign with his name on it. She knocked, and when the door opened, an older lady appeared.
"There you are Robert!" she exclaimed, looking past Emse as if she was invisible, and nearly pulled him in.
"Officer Hale?" He asked, eyes questioning, half inside the door.
"I'll be around. Anything changes, I'll let you know." He dropped his eyes, then nodded, and disappeared into the trailer.
She made her way leasurely around the trailer, noting everyone's locations and jobs, weaving around people slowly, letting her mind turn over his use of "Officer Hale". Did he mean it?
"Hale? Hale!"
She spun around towards the sound of the familiar voice. Shit. "Why?" she groaned. "Why here, now?" She plastered on a fake smile. "Hey Weston," she said. Ugh this guy grated her nerves. She watched him trot up to her, wearing the usual blue uniform. "How's it going?"
He gave her what he thought was his most winning smile. "Great. Working security for the movie going on here." He pulled on his belt and rocked back on his heels, trying to seem important.
"Oh yeah? Lucky you," she said watching her wording very carefully.
He grinned. "Yeah, Leutenant told me it was a pretty important job. But hey, I havent seen you around the precinct in a while. What you been up to?"
Since it was mean to say her first instinctual response- avoiding you- she said, "I've been busy with a case."
"Oh yeah? Can you say who you're protecting?"
Agsain she went with her second response, and shook her head no, knowing it wouldn't be a big deal if she had said. She imagined if he passed a t.v. with the news some time soon, he'd probably see her, what with all the cameras around.
"Oh." His face fell a little. "Well," he perked back up immediately. "Since I have your attention, would you want to go out for coffee after the shift?"
"Weston, I really don't like to keep turning you down, but I'm not interested. It's just not a good time for me. I'm sorry."
"It's cool, no problem. Maybe next time," he said with a cocky smile, except his made him look slightly constipated.
"Ah, about that-" just then, the trailer door opened. Esme watched Weston watch Rob make his way towards them, and a frown appear at the corner of his mouth. She laughed inwardly.
"Officer Hale?" He leaned in to her and said- "Is he bothering you?" He motioned towards Weston. She watched Weston's expression turn to surprise.
"Not yet, but thank you for your generous offer. Ready?" she asked Rob, still facing Weston.
"Yes."
"Sorry, Weston, duty calls," she shrugged, turned around, and lead Rob through the circle of crewmembers. Once she deemed he was safe on the set, she hung back in the crew behind the camera, and continually surveyed the crowd, eyes never stopping. She even occasionally saw Weston drifting around, directing people to keep moving, a little crowd and traffic control. She felt her phone vibrate a minute later, so she fished it out of her jacket pocket, and looked at the ID. Just the person she was thinking about calling. She flipped it open.
"Hale," she said.
"Hale. Please tell me you've changed your mind. Tammi is just not right for your job. Take two seconds and compare yourselves, without being modest. And then, picture yourself on that sandy beach, two weeks from today. My offer still stands, Hale." After a pause with no response, he sighed. "I can have Tammi replace you within fifteen minutes, it's just a matter of her finding a bathroom to change out of her uniform." He waited, the silence stretching. Esme had known her answer the whole time. She just like to make her boss sweat. Her eyes swept the crowd one more time, then her eyes locked with his. He glanced at the phone in her hand, then tapped his left pointer finger to his temple, then turned away, back to work. "You still there Hale?"
"I want to go to Spain."
"Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus! First class all the way."
"Better be, after this." She hung up the phone and dropped it back into her pocket. She waited a minute, a scheme forming in her mind. When he glanced at her again, she gave him a slow wave, then took a couple steps back, being swallowed by the crowd. She watched him search the crowd for her, and smiled wickedly. She quickly made her way around the back of his trailer, appearing on the front line of the crowd directly behind him. She watched him scan where he'd last saw her occasionally, feeling smug. When the director called for a break, she rushed back around the trailer, to be standing casually by his door, watching him the entire time. She pretended to examine her nails, but watching through her lashes.
"Esme! Sorry. Officer Hale! I thought you left. Wait. Are you formally resigning?" He shook his head. "I have to have my make up touched up. Come in." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I won't try anything. Swear." He climbed the stairs to the trailer and opened the door, and looked to Esme, hoping. Finally she follwed him.
"One wrong move and I swear-"
"You'll flip me like the girl at the hotel?" He smiled that annoying smile, and raised an eyebrow.
"Do not finished that thought. I already know where your mind is going. Don't make me get angry at you. And no, I'm not formally resigning. Two weeks from today I'll be on a beach in Spain, first class, courtesy of my boss. I took his offer not to quit." A huge grin appeared on his face as he sat down and let his make up artist work.
"A bribe? Can you bribe cops?"
She leaned against the counter in front of him on his left, facing him. "Don't get it twisted. My replacement was here, all she needed was my go ahead to change out of her uniform." She paused and let that hang a minute, wanting it to sink in on how close she was about leaving. It's just that she'd always wanted to go to Spain, find her heratage, a beach with a hot guy, and a little bit of alcohol. "But it really wasn't a bribe because I had already made up my mind by the time he called back. That turned out to be a perk from my boss's pocket." She grinned evilly, then it vanished. "But don't think for two seconds that you're not walking a fine line." She flicked a glance at the artist, who was obviously pretending to not listen. Esme straightened. "I'll be outside." She showed herself out, glad to be out of that stuffy trailer. She waited at the bottom of the stairs, and escorted him back to his set when he was ready.
It happened two more times, to and from the trailer, and finally he was free to go. She waited for him to get into his street clothes, and join her outside in the darkening streets. She led him quietly to their car.
In an effort on her part to be social, she inquired about his day, even though she was there for most of it>
"How was your day for you?" She asked him in the rearview mirror as she made her way into traffic.
"Are you being nice?"
"If you can attempt to respect my boundaries, I can attempt to be personable."
"Do I still have to have the 'Officer' in there?"
"Until further notice."
He nodded. "It was good, thank you. Fun. We got a lot done, it's a good cast and crew."
"What's the name and story of the movie?"
"It's called 'Remember Me', and it's about a guy who doesn't get a long with his dad and gets in a fight and meets the cop's daughter. I really can't say more than that."
"Okay, well, sure." She continued driving, and then saw the swarm that was waiting for them outside the hotel. "Hold on." She turned left immediately, and pulled out her phone to dial the hotel. "Good evening, my name is Officer Esmeralda Hale, badge number 713029. I'm returning to the hotel with one of your current guests, and there is a mob at the front door. I am requesting a valet at the back entrance of the hotel." She paused, slowing the car to pull along side the curb.
"We can have a valet available in five minutes at your requested entrance."
"Thank you." She flipped the phone shut and dropped it back into her pocket. She checked all of her mirrors, to make sure no one was approaching them. So far so good. She glanced at the clock. It was not going to take four minutes to pull around the corner. She looked at her client in the back seat in her mirror again. "Just for refrence, are you planning on going anywhere tonight?"
"Actually, I hadn't even thought about it. But now that you mention it,I am kind of tired. I think I'll just hit the gym in the hotel for a bit after some room service dinner."
"Alright. Sounds easy enough. Would you mind if I joined you in the gym, or would you prefer if I guarded the door from the hall?" She kept a straight face, wondering how strong his restraints would be if he let her work out- tank top, tight cotton pants, pony tail, sweaty. Maybe she could convince him to do a little sparring and remind him she could kick his ass. She smiled inwardly at that. She'd have to watch herself though, and control the head shots. Couldn't put a black eye on his pretty face.
"I wouldn't mind sharing the gym. You probably could even give me some pointers." He smiled innocently into the mirror.
"Sure. Thanks." She glanced at the clock. It was time. She looked behind her, then pulled around the corner to the waiting valet at the back door. She parked and rounded the car while the valet opened her client's door. She walked with him into the hotel as her company car pulled away. They took the service elevator up to his floor and went to his door, no conversation. He slid the key through the reader, opened the door, and stepped inside. Not two steps in- "Stop." She said firmly. He froze mid step. "Someone's been in here. A girl. The perfume. Can you smell it?"
"No..."
She closed the door behind her. "Stay here." She reached for her gun, and went into full police mode, sweeping the room, starting with her room. She flicked on the light, swept her room, then closed the door. She moved to the kitchen, eyes grazing, looking for anything out of place. Nothing. She looked over the pony wall into the living room, still nothing out of place. She continued through the kitchen and into his room. This was obviously one of the targets. It was trashed. His bed was stripped, and everything was missing. His clothes were out of the crooked, open dresser drawers and thrown carelessly on the floor and bare bed. She looked around his room, then continued on to his bathroom. Same as his room. Bottles knocked over, his grooming supplies scattered on the floor. She checked the shower. Empty. She went back to her room, where her client was still standing patiently by the door. "You're room and bathroom are trashed, but no one's there." She opened her door and looked around again once moore, then checked her bathroom. Nothing was touched. She went back out to him, and put her gun away. "I'm going to take some pictures of your room, and call over my Leutenant so they can try to see if there's any fingerprints. Right now, I want you to go in there, don't touch anything, but see if anything, besides the obvious, is missing. Any of your personal belongings."
"The obvious?"
She couldn't help it. She found it highly amusing. "Who ever was here, and I don't think it was room service, took the bedding from your bed." She grinned. "I think someone is obsessed." He rolled his eyes and moved past her. She followed him in, again pulling out her phone, calling her boss. "Remember, don't touch anything. We're looking for fingerprints. We don't need more of yours," she told her client as the phone rang.
"Fuck me." From behind him, she watched him fist his hands in his hair as he looked around the room.
"Grainger. We've had a B & E in our hotel room. We just walked it and I smelled the perfume, so I swept the rooms by the book. His room and bathroom are trashed. I'm going to take some pictures after our conversation. You need to send a sweeper team as soon as possible."
"Shit Hale, already? It's barely been twenty four hours."
"I know. There was an incident earlier today, I'm sure if you watch TMZ tonight you'll probably see it."
"What happened? Was it bad?"
"Just an altercation. We were leaving the hotel for the set this morning, and some girl jumped over the front line of poparazzi, trying to get to the guy. I entercepted, cought her, flipped her and pinned her to the ground while he jumped into the car. Like I said, I'm sure it'll be on some show."
"I'll watch it and record it. Thanks for the heads up."
"No prob. Send the team."
"On it."
She shut the phone and went to his bathroom. "I'm going to get my camera." He only nodded, crouched down, looking eye level at the bottles spread on the counter. She dashed to her room and dug her camera out of her bag, then ran back and began snapping pictures of his room, slowly working the angles. A couple minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, looking dazed. She looked him over. His hair was even more messy than usual, the product in his hair making it stick together in clumps. She didn't want to shake his hand. "Hey," she said softly, trying to get his attention. She waited until he finally focused on her. "Anything missing?"
"Just my cologne." He shook his head in disbelief. He looked at the bed. "Is it safe to sit?"
"Sure."
"You know, I think about it, and I think between the two events today, I would rather have the girl this morning tackle me. At least I could feel that, and get it over with. This, it's like someone's breathing down my neck and I can't do a thing about it. But I feel better with you here, as corny as that sounds." He gave her a half smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Good. Then I'm doing some of my job," she gave him a reassuring smile. There was a knock on the door. "Why don't you come sit on the couch so they can talk to you while the crew looks for prints." He nodded, pushed himself up and made his way to the living room couch. She followed, then went to the door. With one last glance at his profile on the couch, she looked out the peep hole on the door. Seeing blue uniforms, she unlocked the door and let them in. "Officers," she flashed them her badge, then let the two older men in. Closing the door behind them, they turned to her.
"Briefing?"
"Sure. We arrived here back from the set about half an hour ago now, where the victim, Mr. Pattinson, works a couple blocks away. Upon entering this room, a couple steps in I noticed the scent of a female's perfume that wasn't my own. I told him to stay put, and I swept the rooms, textbook. My room, bathroom, living room and kitchen were all untouched. His room was the target. The bedding on his mattress was stripped, pillows and all were taken, down to the fitted sheet. I had him look around and see if anything else was missing, and he noticed that it was only his cologne. I took some digital pictures." She lifted her camera and proceeded to take the memory card out and turn it over.
"Thanks."
"I called the Leutenant before I took the pictures. Mr. Pattinson is expecting you," she showed them to the living room. They nodded and made their way to him. She went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. There was another knock on the door. She went to the door, then looked through the peep hole. More uniforms. She let them in. The forensics team.
"Gentlemen," she said. "This way." She led them to the bedroom and bathroom.
"The sheets are missing?" One of the men said in disbelief.
"And his cologne. Everything is as we found it." The nodded, and she left them to work. Another knock on the door sounded. Now who could it be? Everyone she needed was here. She went to the door and looked out of the hole one more time. Of course. Why should she not expect this?
She opened the door. "Grainger," she nodded, letting him into the circus. She closed the door behind him.
"Everything going okay?" He asked her quietly.
"So far. He's dazed, feels understandably violated. I think it might be a good idea to move to another room, you know?"
He nodded. "That's not a bad suggestion. I'll take it into consideration. What about this morning?"
"It wasn't that big of a deal, but it definitely cought me off guard. Those people are crazy out there! I don't envy him at all. Follow me." She led him into the kitchen and began pouring cups of coffee. "My first instinct tells me that it was the girl who tried to jump him this morning that I tackled."
"I found the show you were talking about and set my DVR for it. I'm looking forward to seeing it for myself. I'm sure it was impressive up close and personal."
"Honestly, it was kind of fun. It's been a while since I've been able to do that." She smiled, and moved to get the creamer out of the fridge, and back to the cups. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it was that girl. She wasn't too happy that I interruppted her plans."
"Now, I know you know the process- even if we get some readable prints, we're not going to find her unless she a registered offender, or in the child safety program where they take prints."
"I know. That's the hard part. I'm hoping this is a one time thing- she got what she wanted, and is done. Let's run the prints, and if nothing turns up like it probably will, I think it'd be best to move rooms."
"That sounds like a decent plan." The two sweepers came out, holding maybe five plastic bags, holding slides with fingerprints.
"Find anything?" She asked them. They leaned on the door frame.
"We found a few prints, and we'll run them, do the best we can. I've seen a lot of stuff on the job, but taking the sheets? That's just weird." He shrugged. "I'll get this on to the lab. Connor, lets go."
"Thanks, guys, for getting here so quick," Esme told them.
"No problem. See you 'round." They showed themselves out. Two down in the room of the circus. She made two more cups of coffee, gave two to her boss, and took two herself. She nodded her head towards the living room. Grainger followed behind her, passing out the coffee to the two officers, while Esme handed a cup to her client, who took it gratefully, and then the last to her boss. She then went back into the kitchen to get her cup, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. The extra officers addressed both her and the Leutenant.
"So we have Mr. Pattinson's statement, which we'll pass along to you, Leutenant, as soon as we get back to the station. Mr. Pattinson's and Officer Hale's stories are the same. Leutenant, sir, the forensics team already left?"
"Yes," Grainger said. "They're on their way back to the lab as we speak."
"Great. We'll meet them over there and start putting the files together. We'll grab the security tapes on our way out- unless there was anything else you needed from us this evening," he looked at Esme. Grainger did too.
All eyes were on her. She looked to her client. He shook his head ever so slightly. "I think we're good here, officers. I appreciate you responding so quickly. I'll be in contact." They nodded. She stood up to show the officers out. "Thank you again," she said, closing the door behind them. She sighed, then returned back to her spot on the couch.
"So how do you feel, Hale? Comfortable enough?" She knew what he was talking about. Being alone again, knowing the 'sheet stealer' was still around.
She met his eyes. "Yes. I have my weapon ready if necessary," she told him.
"Okay. And Mr. Pattinson, I apologize for this horrible inconvenience. Like the officers said, we'll be on top of this, in contact. If you'd like, we can have you relocated. Just let us know." He looked at Esme. "The slightest oddity, call me." She nodded, then stood to show him out also. After he left, she began the task of washing out the mugs left from the guests. She glanced over her shoulder at him, still sitting on the couch, quiet. She dried the cups and put them away quickly, then went to sit on the other couch and faced him. This was going to be tricky. He was vulnerable. Vulnerable people become clingy. And emotional. She didn't know how much of him she could fend off being vulnerable and clingy, and her feeling partially responsible, sympathetic, and protective. Damn it was going to be tricky.
"I'll call room service and get you some new bedding. I should also probably have our food orders ready so I can make one call," she said, trying to keep her voice light, trying to keep the night on track and as normal as possible. "Did you know what you wanted?"
"I'm not really hungry anymore," he said quietly. She studied his face for a minute. His eyes were downcast. She wished she knew what he liked, to get it for him. She stood up and went to the phone on the table and selected the room service menue. Should she go guy safe, and get pizza? But they were going to work out, and he had fish yesterday. Healthy? Chicken salad? Maybe a steak? So difficult. She closed her eyes and ran her finger over the menue in circles, then stopped randomly and opened her eyes. Lemon pepper chick on brown rice with vegetables. Okay, neutral enough. She did it again, in bigger circles, then stopped. Chicken alfredo. Meh. One more time. She circled, then opened her eyes. Lasagna. Hmm- that one had potential. Lemon chicken and lasagna. She could live with either of those. They were pretty much guraranteed to be good regardless. She picked up the phone.
"Hello, we're in suite 1209, and I'd like to place a room service order, and request a new set of bedding, please," she told the receptionist.
"Yes, ma'am. How can we help you?"
"We need a new set of sheets- everything from the fitted sheet to the comforter to pillows."
"Certainly, ma'am. Right away."
"And as for dinner, I'd like to order a full plate of the meat lasagna, and a full plate of lemon pepper chicken."
"Alright ma'am, that was a new set of bedding, a plate of lasagna and a plate of lemon pepper chicken to suite 1209."
"Yes, that's correct. Thank you so much."
"Thank you, ma'am. They will be up shortly."
"Thanks." She hung up, and went back to the couch. "Did you want to change for the gym while we wait for the food? I just guessed, by the way. You can have whichever you prefer, as I like them both."
"Listen, Officer Hale, I appreciate everything, really," he finally looked up at her. She could see the worry in his eyes. "But I think Leutenant Grainger's suggestion might be the answer. To move to a different suite." He looked down at his hands again.
"While I do think," my suggestion! "that it's an option, I think that so soon after the incident would be almost predictable. I think, if you really want, we could move tomorrow night, late. Let things settle a bit, wait it out. Until then, we need to go on normally, don't give them the satisfaction of inturrupting." She watched him contemplate this for a minute.
"You're right. We should go on as normal as possible." He looked back up at her. "I'm still not really hungry, though," he tried to smile.
"If this'll help you rest, I'll make arrangements for us to switch suites tomorrow night."
"Thanks, Officer Hale. I appreciate it." She tried to read his expression. It did seem to help, as she felt his mood lift a couple degrees.
"Good. Should we get ready? I could show you a couple self-defense moves," she smiled. "Or maybe you'd like to throw a couple punches?" She grinned, challenging.
He looked at her a moment, then smiled. "Okay. The punching does sound fun," he admitted.
She laughed. "Okay. Back in ten." She stood up and disappeared into her room, but leaving the door open a crack this time, partially listening for the door. She grabbed her light gray yoga pants, a sports bra, and a tight light pink tank top. She dashed into her bathroom and undressed quickly. She spritzed herself she sweated with her body spray, dressed, then applied more deoderant and twisted her pony tail up into a bun. She put her shoes back on, slipped her badge under her bra, strapped her gun to her ankle, grabbed her ipod, and slipped back into the living room. He was gone. Good. Hopefully he would be quick.
A knock sounded. She dashed to the door, excited for the food. Looking out of the peep hole, there were a couple of girls, looking to be a little younger than her. She cracked the door to about half her body, curious.
"Good evening, ladies. How can I help you this fine evening?" She looked them over. A couple years younger than her, high heels, short skirts, low-cut tops. One was blonde, the other brunette, both cute, lots of make-up. The blonde had obviously fake breasts. He didn't order any call girls, did he? Would he?
The blonde snapped her gum and looked Esme up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "We're looking for Rob. Do you know where he is? Are you his personal trainer?
"Ah, no and no. I don't know any 'Rob'. I'm pretty sure you have the wrong room."
Esme watched the girls faces fall a little. "Oh," the brunette pouted.
Not as willing to give up so easy, the blonde said, "We have a present to give him. We heard he was in this suite." Esme raised an eye brow. From who?
"Oh yeah? And who's giving out my suite number? I'm just wondering 'cause I think I'll have to correct them. See, I think I heard about this 'Rob' that you're talking about. But I got this suite this afternoon when I checked in, and the lady at the counter said I was lucky 'cause I was the one to stay here after a 'Rob'. I wonder if it's the same guy?"
"Yeah, it was a chick at the front desk, but she worked last night. We heard he was in town, and we wanted to visit, welcome him back."
"Hmmm. Sorry, I don't think I can help. I think you missed him," she said apologetically. She made a mental note to have Officer Bradly get the surveillance tapes for shifts last night to try to find a girl her age.
"Well, alright, thanks. Sorry to bother you," the brunette said, and turned to leave, grabbing her friends arm and towing her away towards the elevators. She closed the door. Did that happen often? Random girls knocking on his hotel room door? She turned to wait in the living room to ask, but instead smacked into him. She looked him over. Long gym shorts and a white t-shirt, and sneakers.
"Shit!" she exclaimed.
"That was a nice show. You're sure you're not an extra from the studio?"
She rolled her eyes. "Does that happen often? Girls knocking on your door?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "Sometimes. Depends a lot on where I am. I've noticed American girls are a little more bold than most," he said with a small smile.
"Really." She narrowed her eyes at him for a second. "You didn't hire them, did you?"
He laughed softly. "Officer Hale, that is one of the funniest things I've heard all day. I don't have to "hire" any girls to sleep with me, if that's what you're insinuating."
"That's exactly what I'm insinuating. Anyway, the blonde said there was a girl working the desk last night that was giving out your room number. I'm going to call my Leutenant and tell him to get the other officers to get those tapes, and to yell at the hotel manager. Maybe it was the girl who came in here. She'd know how to get access to this room." She gave a wicked smiled. Then a knock came again. She looked out of the hole again, and saw the chef with their cart of food, and the maid behind him. Perfect. She didn't want any more surprise excitement today. She opened the door, wrote a tip on the ticket and signed it, gave it back to the guy, and took the cart. At first he looked surprised, but he shrugged his shoulders and released control of the cart. She pushed it passed him into the room. "Can I have the bedding, please?" she asked the maid. She got another confused look, but she slowly handed Esme the sheets and comforter, so in turn she passed them to her client, and then took the pillows. "Thank you!" she told the maid, then closed the door, not wanting anyone else to come in tonight. This room, as far as she was concerned, was on lock down. Which gave her another idea, but it would have to wait a couple minutes. She took the pillows into the room and set them onto the bed, with him close behind, mimicking her by placing the sheets on the bed. She went back out to the cart of food, pushed it to the living room, and began placing the plates on the living room coffee table, and then grabbed a couple bottles of water from the mini fridge. She set them down on the table, and uncovered the plates, revealing the food she'd ordered. "What would you prefer?" She asked him as he sat down. "Eat. I have to make a couple phone calls." She took the phone out from the inside of her tank top and flipped it open, then called her boss.
"Grainger. I just had a couple girls come knocking on our door, looking for Mr. Pattinson. They said they had gotten the suite number from a girl who worked the front desk last night. Can we get Bradley to get the surveillance tapes for last nights shift to see if we can get an ID? Maybe some finger prints to see if she was the one that came in earlier?"
"I'm sorry you were interrupted again, but this may be a lead. Good job in letting me know."
"I'm also, when we're done, going to call the front desk and let them know no one is to enter, room service, maids, cleaning, unless I place a call to have it done. This room is on lock down."
"I support that idea one hundred percent. Good work, Hale, I'll have Bradley back over there ASAP."
"Great. We ordered some room service, and we're going to hit the gym in a minute. Work out some aggression."
"Alright. Keep me updated."
"Will do." She snapped her phone shut and put it back.
"Lock down, huh?"
"Yes." She stood up and went back to the phone on the table. "Good evening. I would like to put a note on our room that it is not to be serviced in any way unless it is requested from this line."
"Yes ma'am. I'll make that note in our system right now."
"Thank you. Also, I'd like a different suite for tomorrow night, if you have one available. To switch."
"Okay, let me check our availability." She listened to the lady typing on her computer. "Ma'am?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"Ma'am, my computer is showing that we have no availble suites. Due to the movie being filmed a couple blocks down, all we have available beginning tomorrow night is a single Queen room."
Esme laughed out loud. "I'm sorry. Can I think about it for a minute and call you back if we decide to take it?"
"Certainly. Was there anything else you needed?"
"No. Thank you." She hung up the phone.
He looked at her, a bite of lasagna half way to his mouth. "What's so funny?"
"They don't have another suite available for tomorrow night. All they have is a single Queen room!" She laughed, brushing it off. Wasn't even an option. Then she looked at him. He wasn't laughing. She straightened up. Shit. He was considering it. Of course he would. Duh. To sleep in the same bed as her?
"We could make a pillow line, if you'd feel better about it." He gave that smirk of a smile, as if challenging her. Would it be better to take him back to her place so they didn't have to share a room, let alone a bed? But her home was even more personal.
"Fine. But the second you try something funny- you know what? I'll just request a cot-"
"Don't be rediculous. We're two grown people who can control ourselves. Right?"
She snorted, then walked over to the other couch and picked up her plate of chicken and began eating quickly, trying to get to the gym. She called the front desk, and reserved that room for tomorrow night. Until then, she knew if she were in his situation, she would not want to be in a room that had been vandalized earlier. They would have to either share her bed for tonight. Looks like that imaginary pillow line was going into effect early.
Grabbing her bottle of water, "Ready?" she asked him. He smiled and nodded, standing, then following her to the gym. It was already getting close to ten, so it was going to be a quick, but strenuous workout. Maybe a bunch of sit ups, a short run, then the combat. Should she be nice and let him win? He slid his card in, and opened the private gym on his floor. "So, what's you're usual routine?" she asked him.
"Running, free weights, sit ups, mostly. What do you want to do? With your training, I'm sure you're more advanced than I am."
"Well, I was just thinking, since it's already getting late, that we just run a couple miles, do some ab work, then do a little of the combat. Offense, defense."
He smiled. "That sounds great."
"Do you usually have music?"
"Yeah. I have it. You want me to plug it in?"
"Definitely. Blast it." She went to the treadmills while he went to the music station and plugged in his iphone. Esme recognized Godsmack instantly, and smiled as she set the speed. She walked a minute, waiting for her client to catch up with her. "Two miles?" she asked when he appeared on the treadmill next to her.
"Sure," he said, setting his pace. She couldn't help but notice he was going quite a bit slower than her. When she hit the mile and a half mark, she sped it up so she could run full out.
He watched her in the mirror in front of them, her eyes down, watching the distance tick by as she ran. He noticed the sweat start to appear on her forehead, and some curls stick to her face as it became flushed. Her breathing became deep and paced, unaware of him watching her. He wondered if she looked like that when she was in the heat of the moment. He smiled mentally, committing her image to memory. He looked down at his own treadmill, and began to undress her mentally. He tried to keep his eyes down, not wanting to give himself away. She'd quit for sure if she knew.
She slowed down to a walk, and glanced at him in the mirror. Was he sleep walking? Should she interrupt him? She wasn't quite sure what to do. And she didn't want to say his name aloud. Well, if he programmed the treadmill, it'd stop when his two miles were done, so she just had to kill time until then. She sat down on a mat and began to stretch, not wanting to do any core work or combat without him. After a couple minutes and a couple different stretches, she was sitting with her legs in almost a splits position, with her forehead on the floor between her legs when she noticed shoes in front of her. She looked up at him. "Ready?" He nodded, watching her. "How about a few sit ups, then some boxing?"
"Sure." She stood up, and they each went to a weight bench and sat down. They tucked their toes under the bar.
"How many do you usually do?"
"Lets's start with fifty, go from there."
"Okay. I've found to get the best from these, is you touch your elbow to the opposite knee." He nodded, and she began to count off.
"How you feeling?" she panted, when they'd hit their goal.
"Good."
"Ready to get some punches in?"
He grinned at her. "Definitely."
They went back to the mat she had been stretching on, and along the wall was some sparring equipment. Couple forearm pads, two sets of boxing gloves.
"No head shots. I know, I know, you're too pretty," she said, smirking.
"You think I'm pretty?" It cought him completely by surprise. She saw it on his face. If she wanted to be cruel, she could sucker punch him at that moment, but she was better than that. Once his brain processed that remark, that crooked, cocky smirk came back. "You think I'm pretty." It was then, right when she wanted to smack that grin off of his face, she tood advantage, and punched him hard in his stomach. He doubled over instantly, but more from surprise, she thought.
"In a feminine sort of way," she said, smiling, when he looked up at her.
"Of course," he stood straight, catching his breath. "I get that a lot, actually," he made a jab for her shoulder, but she tilted it back so the blow didn't land.
She smiled, taunting. "But I was thinking more in the context that you make your living from your face, not that I think you're pretty." She jabbed for his left arm, but he moved.
"So, you don't think I'm pretty, then," he said, and made another jab, and landed on her right side.
"Meh," she lied, shrugging a shoulder, then intentionally threw a punch at his head that missed.
"Hey! That hurt. And I'm not talking about the punch you purposely made miss my face," he told her.
"Not every girl will fall at your feet," she informed him, and landed another jab on his chest.
"Like you? Why not?"
She spun around, and kicked her foot out to land two inches from his stomach. "Arrogant son of a bitch," she told him, flat out.
He looked down at her foot, then back at her, grinning. "Looks like it's time for a new game." She put her foot down. "Will you show me how to flip someone over to the ground like you did that girl?" He smiled innocently. Was he just trying to get his arms around her? Because that's part of the move. She narrowed her eyes. New game, huh? Okay, she'd just have to kick his ass at this, too.
"I can do that, but if you so much as turn it into anything else then what it's meant for, I swear I'll make your life miserable." She narrowed her eyes in warning.
"No problem. So what's it called, the flip?"
"It comes from Judo, actually," she told him.
"Can you flip me first then teach me how?"
"Sure. Now come at me. I'll be gentle," she told him. He nodded, then took a step towards her. She did exactly the same move as she had with the girl earlier, but this time she actually had to work for it. She didn't have the lightness and momentum as with the girl, but she managed to flip him over her shoulder, landing him softly on his back on the mat.
"Wow, that was- enlightening," he said with a small smile, looking up at her. He stood up and dusted off his knee length nylon shorts. "Could we do that one more time, but all out?"
"Sure," she smiled, then readied herself as he stepped towards her. She grabbed him, spun around and flipped him, landing with a heavy thud on the mat.
He nodded and smiled with approval. He had to admit, that was hot. But, he couldn't let that interfere now. As his friends would say, they'd have to save it in their "spank bank", and pull it out later while in the shower or something. But now, he'd finally get close. He stood up. "How do we start?"
"We'll start without any of the charging." She stood in front of him, within arms length. "Hold my arms between my shoulders and elbows, like this." She did the same, grasping his biceps. Wow. They were bigger than she'd thought. Why did his hands feel so warm on her arms? She blinked, clearing her mind. "Once you've got a good grip on their arms, you're going to want to cross your right foot behind your left." She waited for him to follow. "Then you'll want to switch. Cross your left foot behind your right, and turn so I'm against your back." She waited again. "Now take your right arm, straighten it out, and wrap it around my shoulders." She hesitated, seemingly feeling every inch of his arm lay across her. "Now when you have a good grip, bend forward, and flip me over your shoulder."
He did just as she said, pausing, taking note of how her small body pressed against his back. Maybe she'd think he was debating if she was too heavy or not, or how to be gentle. Either way, she felt better than she had any right to on his back. Before he let his mind go any farther, he flipped her over. She landed harder than he would have preferred, but there wasn't much he could do. Besides. She was tough.
"Good," she said, breathless. "Again?" He nodded. She coached him through a couple more times, then for the final time, she came at him running, as a fan would. He executed it perfectly. In two seconds she was on the mat. "Nice. We good?"
"Yeah. Thanks." He reached down and gave her a hand. She took it, and pulled herself up.
"Thanks."
"No worries." They grabbed a towel each on their way out the door and mopped themselvs on the way to the elevator. She made a mental note to down a couple Tylenol before she went to sleep. A new flipper was rough on her, and she would for sure be feeling it tomorrow. And after today, she had to be at her best. In the elevator, she dreaded hiding her belongings, and having to share a room and a bed with him. He'd better shower or she would not share a bed with him.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked. "You seem far away."
"It's nothing. Just making a checklist to make sure I repack everything for our transfer to the new room."
"I appreciate you doing that. Tomorrow we can look into it a little more, find a different hotel if we need to."
"Sure, I'll handle it." The elevator dinged on their floor. Stepping out, her eyes quickly swept the hall, then led the way to their room. It was still going to be at least another hour before she got to bed. She sighed internally, and started that checklist she was supposed to be thinking about, in a feeble attempt to not let her mind wander about spending the night in the same bed as him. In their room, she stuck her head in and looked around. "Ten minutes," she told him. He nodded, and went to his room to pack. In her room, she hid everything in half of the dresser, and half of the shelves, going around her room quickly, and gave one last loving look to her private bathroom and bed. Two nights, she sighed, trying to be optimistic. She waited out by the door, and he joined her not a minute later, bags in tow. She glanced at her watch. It was time to get ready. "So...who wants to shower first?" she asked.
"Ladies first," he said, and began unpacking his suitcase into the drawers she'd just cleaned out. She nodded, then collected her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. It was so weird, she thought, turning on the shower. She quickly shaved and soaped, trying to break the record of shortest shower time.
As he unpacked, he thought about her in the shower. The water sliding down her tight, naked body, glistening. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened his eyes and made himself focus on his task. He was just finishing up when the bathroom door opened, and she emerged. Of course, he was hoping for a towel wrapped around her, not long baby pink cotton yoga pants and a white tank top. Not that she didn't look nice, with her wet hair wild from being towel dried. She raised an eyebrow, and he blinked, then shook his head. "Yeah, I'm going," he said, grabbing his clothes.
"Before you shower- do you prefer the left or right side of the bed?" She asked, keeping her distance.
"It doesn't matter to me," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. She nodded once, and made her way to the dresser. He stepped into the bathroom, and her scent hit him strong in the hot moist room. Well, it would be easy to get himself off, he thought, closing the door behind him.
When he made his way back to the room, the lights were off, and he could see her form on the far side of the bed. He set his clothes in a drawer, then sat on his side of the bed, checking to see if she really had made the pillow line. But to his surprise, there was none. He set his alarm after plugging his phone in, and layed down. He could still smell her, and it was amazing. He layed board straight, his hands under his head in efforts not to reach out to her. Would she respond in her sleep? Either way, it was a lot harder to be grown people than he thought it'd be.
As she pretended to sleep, she felt the bed sink with his weight, and could catch whifs of his soap as he moved, situating himself. After a minue he quieted. Honestly, she waited, expecting him to initiate something. A small part deep down hoped he would. Just not the common sense part. After a minute, she figured he wasn't going to try anything, and tried to clear her mind to sleep.
Chapter Three