Page 75 of Parting Shot

“Why?” He was confused. “I thought we were going for full disclosure here?”

“Once the op is over,” I explained, pulling my Chicago Cubs baseball hat on, “I will show my face to everyone, and whatever pictures get taken now, they’ll know it was me. But right this second, no one but Clay Wells and whoever is in your inner circle can know who I am.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed, passing me his oversize sunglasses and then grinning suddenly when I gave him my attention.

“What?”

“I like you in a baseball cap. It’s hot.”

I shook my head. “You have it bad if this is doing it for you.”

“Kiss me.”

The man was a bit smitten, and I was sort of crazy about it.

Once we reached the hotel, I wondered how it worked with people wanting to be close to Aaron, but Miguel’s presence answered my question. I thought perhaps he provided maybe a bit of protection, just someone to ask people to step back. That was not the case at all. Miguel was, first and foremost, his personal bodyguard; the driving was the secondary piece. He kept lookers from turning into touchers. I learned that at home, in Chicago, it was just him. In Vegas, he had a team of four others accompanying him.

Aaron Skyped with his personal assistant, Margo, and when he turned his phone toward me, I got to meet her. She reminded me of Trinity from The Matrix, except she smiled a lot and talked really fast. I had no idea one person could do all she could and never leave her office. I was thoroughly impressed.

“I am thrilled to meet you, Detective,” she gushed. “Anything I can do for you, you just say the word.”

“Stop that,” Aaron muttered.

“Oh, boss, he’s gor⁠—”

He cut her off by ending the call, and I poked him in the ribs with my elbow.

“Go away,” he groused at me.

A member of the staff of the Wynn met us when we drove up, and I was fine to just follow along with the rest of the entourage, but when Aaron stopped to point something out to me, everyone else did as well. I wasn’t used to that, seeing him in leader mode, but it was natural for him. I was uncomfortable with the attention and scrutiny, but he didn’t even notice. The only thing that kept me grounded was his hand in mine.

The man had grabbed hold of me when we got out of the car, and not once, even for a moment, had he let go. I saw the photographers, the paparazzi, stalking him, and was surprised when he made no effort to shake or hide from them.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded me.

Turning the corner, we ran into a wall of flashing lights and sound—so many cameras clicking at once. It didn’t last, though. Miguel herded us into the elevator, and we rode straight up for several minutes before we reached our three-bedroom duplex—the Encore Tower Suite. I’d had no idea you could have a two-story suite, but Aaron had insisted on it. We stayed upstairs, as did Miguel, and the four-man security team slept downstairs.

In the room, surrounded by the panoramic view, I had to take a second to get my breathing regulated.

“Are you all right?” Aaron checked.

I nodded before taking off the cap and sunglasses.

“You look a little freaked out there, Detective.”

“Did you see all the photographers?”

“I did.” He smiled warmly.

“So, I mean, that was good for our case, but those pictures, they’re gonna be waiting for us at home too.”

He shrugged. “If anyone from work recognizes you, you can tell them you were undercover. That will take care of all of this.”

“No,” I said, walking to the window. “Hey, um, we don’t gotta stay in this kinda place every time we travel, do we?”

“We can stay in any kind of place you want,” he replied quietly.

“Okay.” I crossed my arms. “That’d be good.”