Hot in the City. Samantha Hunter
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it was if she were floating.
“Oh, that one is superb. It would drive any man crazy,” Chloe said approvingly.
“It’s very comfortable, too. I like it.”
“Try the next, anyway. We need to see all of them.”
Grudgingly, she did so. The second one had a neckline so deep Della was pretty sure she could probably step out of the dress through the front. Chloe liked it, but commented that Della would probably have to tape her breasts in place, so as not to have a fashion faux pas. Della nixed that dress immediately.
The third was more modestly cut, but fit like a glove, and because of that, was even more revealing than the others.
“I like it,” Della said, studying her image in the mirror with Chloe. She looked so sleek, and the dress seemed to compress all of her curves into a very nice shape. “But it doesn’t feel as nice as the first one, and it would be difficult to dance in this one. I really like the Grecian style, and I would rather move comfortably.”
“Agreed. And the first is a very romantic dress, while still being sexy. It also looked the best with your hair color and figure. I was worried that rose color, with your strawberry, would be a clash, but that shade works. I think because it’s muted, and the off-the-shoulder style takes the color away from your neckline, so it shows off that amazing skin of yours, rather than clashing with your hair.”
Della smirked. “You really think a lot about these kinds of things. Good thing one of us does.”
Chloe chuckled. “You have basically good instincts. You just need to be a bit more daring.”
“So this is decided?”
“Yes. Do you want to go get a coffee to celebrate?”
“I can’t,” Della said, looking at her watch. “I wanted to drop some paperwork off downtown, and I have an appointment after that.”
“And you have to call lover boy.”
Della felt her cheeks warm. “Yes, and that.”
“Speaking of that, maybe you should buy some sexy extras while you’re here. They have some beautiful things out front.”
“Oh, I don’t know—”
“Don’t second-guess, Della. You’re having a fling with a sexy stranger. Make the most of it.”
Della took a deep breath and agreed with a nod. Returning to the dressing room, she took the dress off, and then waited for the store’s seamstress to take her measurements so that it could be altered appropriately.
Then, she and Chloe bought several more pieces of lingerie than Della thought she would ever need, but they were fun to pick out. She wondered if Gabe would be surprised. Last night, all she had been wearing were her usual, plain cotton bikinis and he hadn’t seemed to mind at all.
Leaving the shop, she and Chloe parted ways, and Della’s attention turned to the evening ahead. She was too distracted to think about work, and it wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait.
Chloe was right—she had to go for it with Gabe. She had everything to gain, and very little to lose. But she balked at calling him and suggesting he come to her house. Should they meet somewhere else?
If she asked him out for a drink, and then things happened more naturally, she was far more comfortable with that.
But that was also boring.
Della was tired of being boring. Gabe was a federal agent, and a man who had experienced a lot more of life than she had. What made her think he would want to see her again? She wanted to stand out in his memory like he did in hers. To make herself desirable, more mysterious.
Maybe if she did something more creative than just calling him—she could make it a game of sorts.
Excitement tingled underneath her skin as an idea formed, and before she could talk herself out of it, she took out her phone and opened the GPS application. Some quick calculations, and she’d sent off a message to Gabe that hopefully would be much more intriguing than a phone call would have been.
Putting her phone away, she hurried down the sidewalk, smiling. She had more plans to make.
GABE FINISHED HIS second drink, looking at the door of the Wall Street bar where he’d agreed to meet Della. Well, he assumed that was what this was about. All he’d received from her was a message that included GPS coordinates that led to this location. At first he’d been suspicious—what if it wasn’t her? Or why wouldn’t she just call him directly?
Gabe became increasingly antsy and curious the longer he sat, waiting.
What was Della up to?
He wasn’t sure he should be here, or if he should have made any plans to see her again at all. He’d combed through her locked files and found nothing of too much interest. Her work on the vaccine project had been mostly related to risk analysis, very compartmentalized and early in the project. There were no other red flags in her life. Her emails and academic work were all straightforward. He was running background checks on her friends, colleagues, just in case, but there’d been nothing overtly alarming.
He shouldn’t have come here, but the strange message had intrigued him. If it wasn’t from Della, then he needed to know what was going on.
Right.
The truth was that he liked her, and he wanted to see her again, in spite of the situation.
You lied to her, so what? It’s the job. Lives depend on what you do. His mind replayed all the usual things he told himself so he could sleep at night. It wasn’t that they weren’t true, but they were getting harder and harder to believe.
Like today, which he’d spent interrogating a twenty-five-year-old junior scientist about the details of her private life until she was in tears. Tears never really bothered him; Gabe knew they could be a ploy. There had been enough cracks in the young employee’s interview to push her harder, and questions about her background, as well. Natalie Petroski could be the leak. He’d asked for surveillance to be installed in her home before she returned there.
Until they were satisfied that she was clean, he would review audio and video of everything she did, every aspect of her personal life, and with whom she did it. Especially with whom. They’d have to get some mobile surveillance on her as well, know where she went and who she saw.
It was legal—he had authorization—but it made Gabe feel dirty. And undeserving, he supposed, of spending time with someone like Della. What would she think if she knew?
He shook his head in disgust; he was getting soft. He never would have thought this way before.
Before what? Before deceiving too many people, losing too many friends and spending too many lonely nights thinking about it? Before he let himself love someone, thinking there was a future in it, only to find out differently? Before he let someone count more than the job, and it cost him his life? Or theirs?
He couldn’t deny it; since Janet had died, he’d started having doubts. He told himself it was grief, or a broken heart, but those things passed.
His doubts remained.
Maybe Della was a mistake for a whole different set of reasons. He had to focus on his work, and she was a distraction. A sexy distraction, but one he couldn’t afford. He’d often wondered on sleepless nights, if doubts about him, or about her choices, had been what distracted Janet. If they had created enough of a crack that she missed the shooter who hadn’t missed her. Had she thought of him in the end?
He shook his head as if trying to ward off the bad memories. He walked to the door, intending to leave as he saw a guy on a bike race to a stop in front. The man hopped off of the bike and then came through the door. He looked right at Gabe.
“This