“Fine,” Quinn said. He took a sip from each glass and waited for me to select one. Quinn watched with amusement as I waited a full five minutes before picking up one of the glasses. Finally, I took a sip.

“Marriott stocks a good house wine,” I said.

Quinn picked up the remaining glass of wine and held it up in a silent toast. I did the same. We sat and sipped quietly until we heard the light tap on the connecting door to Alison’s room.

“Showtime,” Quinn said, silently mouthing the word.

He took his wine with him to the bathroom and closed the door. I waited for him to get settled, and she tapped again. I crossed the room and opened the connecting door.

“I can’t sleep,” Alison said. “I’m scared that guy might have followed us back to the hotel.”

She had freshened up and put on a red flannel nightshirt that had pink Vicky Secret hearts all over it. She showed as much leg as she could without revealing her own secrets. Normally I’d have made it easy on her and let her lure me into her bedroom so her goons could try to make good on the robbery. But I wanted to test her improv skills, since I was still considering her as a possible employee.

“You want to spend the night with me?” I said.

“No,” she said. “I want you to spend the night with me.”

“What’s the difference?” I said.

“I’ve already got all my girly stuff laid out in my bathroom,” she said. “Plus, I’ve got my iPod hooked up to some speakers. To set the mood.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” she said. “But not that tired.”

“And you’re scared,” I said.

“Without my knight in shining armor I’d be terrified,” she said.

“I should probably bring my jewelry cases,” I said, “just to be safe.”

She raised her arms over her head and clasped her hands together, arched her back, and pretended to yawn. Which of course caused her nightshirt to rise exactly ten inches—I know because I’m a trained observer, and have developed an eye for detail.

“I have to compliment you on your grooming,” I said.

“Oh, Gawd,” she said. And, bless her heart, she managed to blush without pinching her cheeks.

Alison tilted her face and put some huskiness in her voice and said, “Come here, Cosmo.”

I followed her into her room. She closed the door behind me and turned the lock. Then she stepped to the nightstand, dimmed the lights, and turned on her iPod to mask the sounds of the robbery that would soon take place in my room.

She swayed to the music a bit and peeled off her nightshirt. “Cosmo, you know what I’d like to do right now?” she purred.

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to give you a blow job.”

“Of course you would,” I said. “But what’s in it for me?”

 

Chapter 30

To borrow a phrase from my former Commander In Chief, I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Alison Cilice.

In fact, I didn’t even engage in the type of relations that would cause a stain or force me to define the word “is.” I thought about it, wondering if I could find a way to justify it in the name of national security. After all, the mission started out as a national security issue, right? Unfortunately, it quickly made a left turn into this hotel robbery ring. Alison was certainly a thief. But was she a terrorist sympathizer as well? I didn’t think so. If the guy from Denver—Adnan Afaya—was trying to infiltrate the Park ‘N Fly’s, as Darwin believed, I didn’t think he’d made the pitch to Alison yet. My guess was the cameras caught them on a first or second date. I also didn’t think Afaya was tied to the hotel robberies, so I didn’t see any way to justify making stains with Alison. But I was in a spot: I didn’t feel comfortable having sex with her, but I also couldn’t leave yet, since I had to let things run their course next door.

Which is why, after initially rebuking Alison’s advances, I agreed to lie in her bed awhile, fully clothed. I routinely test weapons and torture devices for the military, so I wasn’t worried about succumbing to her advances. But she came at me from a different place than the military. Where the weapons relied on pain, Alison nibbled my ear and gently blew warm air into it. This part wasn’t cheating, I told myself. But it wasn’t torture, either, and she was making progress. I knew I had to put a stop to it. But before I could make that announcement, Alison started moving her hands in a practiced manner all over my body. This still wasn’t cheating, but it had some of the earmarks of torture. She quickly got to the area of my body that would constitute cheating, and it was finally time to draw the line. I managed to find my voice.

“Sometime later tonight I’m going to regret that I said this now—but you need to stop doing that,” I said.

“Can’t hear you,” she said, playfully. She grabbed my hand and thrust it between her legs and held it there while she bucked her hips. Thinking back on it now, I probably could have muscled my hand out of there a few seconds quicker than I did.

“You’re hired!” I said.

“What?”

“What I meant to say was, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s that time of the month.”

“Not funny,” she said.

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