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He released his grip a little. “Thank you.”

He walked out of the bathroom, but she stood there a second longer. Her anger drained with the blood from her face. She hadn’t taken birth control in days. That month’s pack had been in her purse when it was stolen, and she hadn’t thought to bring the rest from her apartment. Not once had it occurred to her that she might need it.

Lola straightened her robe and combed her fingers through her hair before leaving the bathroom. She was fairly certain birth control didn’t leave your system for a while. Either way, nothing would happen—because it couldn’t. It just couldn’t. She had enough to worry about as it was, and anything more would surely be the last straw for her. It was hard to imagine anything beautiful could come from this ugliness anyway.

13

Present day

Beau left the Moose Lodge behind in the backwoods of Missouri to be closer to an international airport. He didn’t know where Lola would go next, but this time he’d be ready. Beau found sitting still one of his greater challenges, but he worried if he went up, she’d go down, left or right.

Two days he waited, during which his assistant arranged for him to meet with a couple startups, both of which impressed him. They were green but viable, and more surprisingly, u

naffected. The big-city entrepreneurs he normally met with were eerily familiar to him—they were versions of Beau before he’d hit it big. They had dark circles under their eyes all the time and consumed caffeine like water. They were always trying to stay ahead of the game, but sometimes that cost them.

When Bragg called, Beau was visiting a major hotel in Memphis. He held his Entrepreneurs in Tech conference in Los Angeles every year, but it’d occurred to him sometime over the last couple days that he and his partner had been focused on California too long. There was talent everywhere—even Tennessee. An entire nation waited to be discovered.

That didn’t mean, for even a moment, Lola was far from his mind. Beau kept his eyes up all the time, wondering if he might turn the corner and run right into her.

Beau held up a finger to the hotel’s sales manager when he saw Detective Bragg’s name on the screen of his cell phone. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

“Louisiana,” Bragg said into the phone before Beau’d even spoken.

Beau put his hand on his hip. “She’s there?”

“I woke up to a pending charge at a gas station in New Orleans. Called around the immediate area and found a motel with a Lola Winters staying there—you might have to write a check for that info.”

“I might or I will?”

“What’s a few hundred more bucks?”

Nothing to him. But he’d developed this strange habit, this rapid reach for his wallet. Beau valued his fortune, having been without it most of his life, but the look people got when they had a chance at easy money—it was seductive.

The lights in the conference center got brighter, or so it felt. He blinked a few times, already moving in the direction of the exit. He pulled the phone away briefly to tell the woman showing him the space, “My assistant will be in touch.”

Bragg coughed into the phone. “I’ll e-mail the details right now.”

“How far is New Orleans from me?”

“Six hours in the car, four in the air, minus boarding.”

“I’m getting on the road now.”

“I got a feeling today’s the day, want to know why?”

Satisfaction tinged Bragg’s voice, something Beau’d been waiting on for a while. “Why?”

“Every day since we got her real name, I’ve been hunting car salesmen, trying to find one who worked with a Melody Winters. Those guys love their cash upfront. Well, goddamn if I didn’t put a bullet in one’s ass this morning. She’s driving a red Lotus Evora. Got the plates too. How’s that for you? She may be flying under the radar, but in a car like that, doesn’t exactly seem like she wants to stay hidden.”

For the third time in two days, Beau tasted victory. It was even sweeter now that he knew how she was traveling and what to look for. He would’ve guessed black for her, but he liked the red. A lot. “Good work, Bragg.” Beau hesitated. “But you didn’t really shoot anyone, did you?”

The detective guffawed into the phone. Beau was afraid it’d devolve into another coughing fit, but Bragg just said, “Not today, kid,” and hung up.

Beau decided to drive to Louisiana. Behind the wheel, at least he’d have some control. Airports were too sluggish, even when they were fast-paced, the stale air like sludge for hurried travelers.

Why had she chosen to go south now? It was an unusual move, and to keep going across country, she’d have to come up again eventually. Unless she went west, and that would put her back toward Los Angeles. Home. He wanted to get to her before then. He fantasized about catching Lola in the act, making eye contact with her amidst the Bourbon Street crowd, sending a Sazerac to her table as he watched from the bar, standing inches behind her as she took in a sunset behind the three-steepled St. Louis Cathedral. As if her reaching L.A. before he’d caught her meant she’d be able to deny this’d ever happened.

In the car, his assistant called. “They’re ready to finalize the VenTech acquisition,” she said. “I can arrange a meeting first thing in the morning.”

They’d had to move quickly to prepare an offer for VenTech’s founder while its future was bleak, and before anyone else could. Beau had known this was coming, and even though he was the only one who really cared about the buyout, he couldn’t help cursing the timing. “Make sure Larry’s there,” Beau said. “I’m not sure I’ll make it in time.”

“I already looked at flights,” she said. “Getting you into LAX by tomorrow morning shouldn’t be an issue.”

Beau looked up from the road. Small, white-bellied birds flapped across the sky in formation. Once Bolt Ventures had put the finishing touches on the paperwork, it would only be days before Beau could go to George Wright with an offer—a laughable one, but one Wright couldn’t afford to turn down. But that would mean getting on a plane tonight and missing another chance to find Lola.

“I’m the one who wanted this,” Beau said. “I should be there.”

“Probably, but…”

“But what?”

His assistant didn’t respond. He knew where she was headed, but he’d bitten her head off enough times when she’d suggested unloading his work to others.

Beau uncurled his fingers from the steering wheel, splaying them, an invitation. “You think they can manage without me.”

“You can’t be everywhere all the time, Mr. Olivier.”


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