Page 62 of Born for Starlight

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to talk.”

“She started it.”

“Yes, but I hadn’t specifically instructed her to keep her mouth shut. She was there to talk.”

“She was rude.”

“Again. Don’t care.”

He seemed really pissed, and I didn’t think it was because two women were catty. That couldn’t have been his first rodeo. So, what was it?

"Wine?"

"Angelica."

"No. You put on a gun at dawn, you posted a guard on my floor, you dragged me across town to a fish market, and it was so you could talk to a beautiful terrifying woman about wine?" My voice was climbing and I let it. "What in the hell does wine have to do with Luzia? You told me you were working on finding her. You promised me, Matthew. There's a little girl out there somewhere, and you spent the morning on vintages and parties?"

"I need a favor from Layla." His voice stayed level, which made mine want to climb higher. "A big one. The kind she doesn't owe me."

"So?"

"So, you don't ask Layla for favors cold. Nobody does. You warm her up, you talk about her business, you let her tell you the market is busy, and then, when she's decided you're still worth her time, you ask." He loosened his jacket, and the gun was just there, casual as a wallet. Like something on a movie set, but not. "The wine talk was me warming her up. The favor is Luzia."

I stood there and breathed hard. I wanted to throw something, but I was out of practice.

What he was saying was reasonable, every word of it, and I didn’t like it. A man who had an answer for everything at his fingertips made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"I'm taking a bath," I announced, which was definitely not what I wanted to say. But it was a chance for me to slam a door, and I was taking it.

I went to the second bedroom, the gorgeous one, the one we'd never used. It was the first time that door had closed all trip. I went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the tub, then pulled out my phone. Time for some sleuthing. Because I sure as hell wasn’t trusting the Wicked Witch of Brazil, even if she was friends with Beto’s wife.

I sat down on the side of the luxurious marble tub and looked at my phone then typed Layla’s sentence into the translation app the way it had sounded. I did it syllable by syllable, my thumbs steady.

The first try came back as partial gibberish. The second came back with two English words that had no context.

I closed my eyes, heard her voice again, flat and quiet, then opened my eyes and fixed two sounds, then pressed enter.

The screen changed.

The sentence came back closer.

The auction. Big our chance for us. Not to ruin with using penis thoughts.

What the fuck?

I closed my eyes again and tried to think like Layla. Like me. What would I be saying to Matthew?

It’s an auction. Was definitely the first part. She had to be saying the party was an auction.

Big our chance for us?

I let the line simmer. Then I finally got it.

This was our big chance.

The last one had me stumped.

Not to ruin with using penis thoughts.