Four."
"Excuse me?"
"The footage was sent to a local news station. Channel Four. They forwarded it on to us just before it aired."
Bingo.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I had the chance, Danny piped up in my ear again.
"I got bad news, Bond," he shouted. "A couple of squad cars just pulled up. You need to get out of there. Now!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
_____
I froze. It was all I could do to keep the smile pasted on my face as my body launched into fight or flight mode. Mostly flight.
"I need to use the restroom," I said, forcing myself to rise slowly from the table, despite instant panic urging me on. "Excuse me."
"I’ll meet you at the side," Danny said, his voice mirroring my panic.
My hip knocked into the table, jostling the dinnerware. A butter knife slid off, and I caught it midway to the floor. I tossed it beside the bread plate and half-walked, half-sprinted to the foyer.
Once around the corner, I dropped the walking bit and just sprinted to the restrooms.
I would’ve preferred using the delivery doors, but accessing the kitchen from the dining room would’ve made Aiden suspicious. So I settled for Plan B. The ladies’ room window. Danny and I had cased all outside exits before he dropped me off. This one was our best bet.
I tugged on the restroom door handle. It didn’t budge.
Shit. Occupied.
I glanced to a second door beside the restroom. The men’s room. I hadn't actually checked it out, but it stood to reason there was a window in there, too. But as I reached for the handle, the Maitre ‘d appeared in the hallway, wearing a scowl.
"May I help you?"
"No, thank you."
He stood firm, his grimace unwavering.
"I need to use the restroom," I whispered. I didn’t need to fake the urgency in my voice.
"That is the men’s room, Madame."
A scream, somewhere deep in my core, spiraled toward my throat. I was running out of time. It was all I could do to not push the old guy aside.
"I’m aware, but I really need to go."
I glanced at the front doors, expecting to see two uniformed officers with their guns aimed at my pretty head. It was clear but wouldn’t be for long.
I grabbed the handle and pushed, but the door didn't budge. Occupied.
Something inside me fell, passed my other organs and landed at my Achilles heel. If I did the potty dance, could I convince this guy to let me use a back bathroom?
Unlikely.
Just then a stout woman in a royal blue, chiffon dress stepped out of the ladies’ room.
A huge sigh escaped my mouth, and I almost threw my arms around her in a fierce hug. Instead I tossed a smirk over my shoulder to the Maitre d’ and hurried inside.
I choked on a cloud of cheap perfume and breathed through my mouth. Not bothering to latch the door, I ran to the window. The frosted glass pane lifted with ease, and I used the trash can to hoist myself up.
Danny’s van idled in the alley. He leaned out the driver’s side window. "Hurry."
As if I was moving slow on purpose.
Legs over the ledge, I shimmied my torso forward. My dress caught on the sill, but I didn’t care, didn’t want to take the time to gingerly untangle the fabric, didn’t want to add silver handcuffs to my accessories. I jumped and only hoped the ripping sound wouldn’t leave my ass exposed.
As my feet touched the asphalt, one heel snapped, and I fell onto hands and knees. Scraped and bloodied, I hopped up with the grace of a drunken alley cat.
I waddled around the front of the van, temporarily blinded by the headlights, and scrambled into the passenger seat.
"That was close." Danny spun the vehicle away from the restaurant, turning left at the end of the alley.
To my right, I could see red and blue lights flashing against the front signage of the restaurant. I felt that panic slowly melting into relief as I pictured the look on Aiden’s mouth, when he realized I’d escaped.
* * *
I paced the length of my desk, back and forth, grinding my heels into the
"Excuse me?"
"The footage was sent to a local news station. Channel Four. They forwarded it on to us just before it aired."
Bingo.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I had the chance, Danny piped up in my ear again.
"I got bad news, Bond," he shouted. "A couple of squad cars just pulled up. You need to get out of there. Now!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
_____
I froze. It was all I could do to keep the smile pasted on my face as my body launched into fight or flight mode. Mostly flight.
"I need to use the restroom," I said, forcing myself to rise slowly from the table, despite instant panic urging me on. "Excuse me."
"I’ll meet you at the side," Danny said, his voice mirroring my panic.
My hip knocked into the table, jostling the dinnerware. A butter knife slid off, and I caught it midway to the floor. I tossed it beside the bread plate and half-walked, half-sprinted to the foyer.
Once around the corner, I dropped the walking bit and just sprinted to the restrooms.
I would’ve preferred using the delivery doors, but accessing the kitchen from the dining room would’ve made Aiden suspicious. So I settled for Plan B. The ladies’ room window. Danny and I had cased all outside exits before he dropped me off. This one was our best bet.
I tugged on the restroom door handle. It didn’t budge.
Shit. Occupied.
I glanced to a second door beside the restroom. The men’s room. I hadn't actually checked it out, but it stood to reason there was a window in there, too. But as I reached for the handle, the Maitre ‘d appeared in the hallway, wearing a scowl.
"May I help you?"
"No, thank you."
He stood firm, his grimace unwavering.
"I need to use the restroom," I whispered. I didn’t need to fake the urgency in my voice.
"That is the men’s room, Madame."
A scream, somewhere deep in my core, spiraled toward my throat. I was running out of time. It was all I could do to not push the old guy aside.
"I’m aware, but I really need to go."
I glanced at the front doors, expecting to see two uniformed officers with their guns aimed at my pretty head. It was clear but wouldn’t be for long.
I grabbed the handle and pushed, but the door didn't budge. Occupied.
Something inside me fell, passed my other organs and landed at my Achilles heel. If I did the potty dance, could I convince this guy to let me use a back bathroom?
Unlikely.
Just then a stout woman in a royal blue, chiffon dress stepped out of the ladies’ room.
A huge sigh escaped my mouth, and I almost threw my arms around her in a fierce hug. Instead I tossed a smirk over my shoulder to the Maitre d’ and hurried inside.
I choked on a cloud of cheap perfume and breathed through my mouth. Not bothering to latch the door, I ran to the window. The frosted glass pane lifted with ease, and I used the trash can to hoist myself up.
Danny’s van idled in the alley. He leaned out the driver’s side window. "Hurry."
As if I was moving slow on purpose.
Legs over the ledge, I shimmied my torso forward. My dress caught on the sill, but I didn’t care, didn’t want to take the time to gingerly untangle the fabric, didn’t want to add silver handcuffs to my accessories. I jumped and only hoped the ripping sound wouldn’t leave my ass exposed.
As my feet touched the asphalt, one heel snapped, and I fell onto hands and knees. Scraped and bloodied, I hopped up with the grace of a drunken alley cat.
I waddled around the front of the van, temporarily blinded by the headlights, and scrambled into the passenger seat.
"That was close." Danny spun the vehicle away from the restaurant, turning left at the end of the alley.
To my right, I could see red and blue lights flashing against the front signage of the restaurant. I felt that panic slowly melting into relief as I pictured the look on Aiden’s mouth, when he realized I’d escaped.
* * *
I paced the length of my desk, back and forth, grinding my heels into the
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