Free Just the Messenger by Ninette Swann Page B

mud,” she said, pouring it on. She enjoyed the look of frustration on his face, reminding herself of his hit-and-run romantic tactics. “I’m finally having fun, and you want us to go.”
    Marco played his part, but his look told her he was putting trust in her and had no idea where she was going with this.
    “Can you at least take my picture with these two? They’re so interesting, and they’ve invited us to the town center tonight.”
    “Actually,” Gomez said in his rich bass tone, “we invited you .”
    “I go where she goes,” Marco snarled, but he took the camera and fiddled with the settings.
    Grace stood in between the two barstools and readied for the shot, as Gomez replied, “Okay, okay, consider yourself invited, chico. ”
    She snickered at Marco’s expense, earning a look of praise and lust from Gomez.
    Marco ignored them. “Okay,” he said, “say cheese.”
    At the last moment, Grace feigned rolling her ankle on her high-heeled platforms. “Shit!” she exclaimed as she knelt down to tend to the fake injury. The camera went off, getting just the two men in the shot.
    Gomez peered down at her suspiciously, but she played her part, and he eventually asked, “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, a whiny tone in her voice. “More embarrassed than anything. A lady should be able to stand in heels.”
    “Well,” Gomez said gracefully, “those are quite the heels. May I suggest more suitable footwear this evening?”
    She flashed him a grateful smile then turned toward the camera.
    “Okay,” she said, “let’s do it right this time. Ready? Cheese!”
    The flash went off again.
    She made her goodbyes and vague promises to meet up with them in the evening, then joined Marco and Warren as they exited the restaurant.

 
    Chapter Six
     
     
     
    Dozens of bouquets met her as she arrived in the shared living area of their suite half an hour later. Startled, she backed out of the fragrant setting and called for Marco.
    “Jesus,” Warren breathed out. He had gotten there first. “What on Earth did you say to those guys, Gracie?”
    “More importantly,” Marco said with a frown as he filed in behind Warren, “why did you tell them where you were staying?”
    “Well, I was afraid to lie,” she replied. “I don’t know who they are, and I’m sure they could find me anyway.”
    She waited to see if they would catch on, but no one said anything, so she continued.
    “Given that I had accidentally told them my real first name.”
    Warren slapped a hand over his face. “Oh, girlie.”
    “Let’s pack up.” Marco strode into Grace’s bedroom, threw her suitcase on the bed and started to pile in her clothes.
    “No way,” Warren argued from the doorway. “Step away from the lady’s stuff. I’m not going to have you ruin our cover with your overprotective bullshit.”
    Marco stopped but lingered by the case, looking deflated and pissed. “So are you finally going to tell us what you learned? No one can overhear us, now.”
    “The waitress told me a big deal is supposed to go down between the two cartels tonight. There’s a festival on, and the bosses are using it as a cover. Maria said she didn’t know if there would be drugs there, but it was possible. She said they’ve been working on an agreement for months, now, which would stabilize the drug influx over the border.”
    “Cartels don’t just work together,” Marco said, rolling his eyes.
    “No, they don’t,” Warren agreed. “A lot of people have already died as they’ve vied for power in this co-op. It’s a tentative truce at best, and should something go wrong, I don’t doubt it will get rowdy tonight. As it is, we’re headed to the center. That’s where the action will be.”
    “That’s where they invited us, anyway,” Grace said, excitedly.
    Warren gave her a half-smile. “I assume they’ll want someone to celebrate with if everything goes according to plan.” He paused, “Or someone to