The phrase had sounded childish when she said it a week ago, and still did when she muttered it to herself today. It was the truth, though. She didn't want to consider the idea of going to New Orleans. She didn't want to be there during Mardi Gras. (And what the hell was so amazing about Mardi Gras, anyway? Who cared about a bunch of plastic beads?) She certainly didn't want to be on a plane for several hours. And she absolutely, posi-fucking-tively, did not want to be sitting in this damn taxi on the way to a hotel in the French Quarter. Gloved fingers tunneled through dark, freshly dyed tresses in a sign of nerves. Eyes, like chips of obsidian, narrowed as she caught the driver looking at her in the rearview mirror. There was a small, petty thrill of pleasure when he hastily turned his attention back to the road. Still, it couldn't loosen the knots roiling in her belly.
Kaitlyn still wasn't altogether sure how she'd been talked into this venture. Certainly, she'd recieved some odd invitation to a masquerade ball, but she hadn't planned to actually go to it. Why the hell should she if she didn't know who it was from? Unfortunately, events conspired against her. Lucian wanted her to go to New Orleans as a favor for one of his business associates, to check the security at his main building. It was work, it would pay well, but the timing made her suspicious. Everything might have blown over if Chloe hadn't found that stupid invitation and used it in her scheming.
Well, no hope for it. She was here now and there was a job to do. Just as she thought that, the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. Sunglasses were shoved on, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she exited the car. Foot tapped impatiently as the driver popped the trunk and one of the uniformed hotel staff came to collect the rest of her luggage. As soon as the suitcases were out of the trunk, she paid the cabbie and spun on her heel to get inside. How the hell people were able to breathe here, she'd never understand. It felt like she was choking on humidity.
-----------------------------------------------
Kaitlyn pressed her back against the door, having just closed it on the helpful young man who'd carried her suitcases in. Taking a deep breath, she straightened to prowl around the suite, memorizing everything. Only then did she start to unpack, hanging up clothes, taking toiletries into the bathroom. Then, and only then, did she sink onto the bed and reach for the phone. In minutes she was listening to it ring, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end.
"Rossini residence."
"It's Kaitlyn. One of them better be home, Davide. I'm not in the mood to be ignored."
"Sì, la signora Kaitlyn. Solo un minuto, per favore."
A slight smile twitched at her lips. After years of dealing with her attitude, the man finally understood her. That was something, at least. Fingers tapped restlessly at her thigh, waiting. "Kaitlyn? Is everything all right?"Oh, she wanted to be able to smack Lucian for that so kind tone of voice.
"If you mean, did I get to the hotel all right, then yes. If you want to know if I'm happy being at the hotel, then no."
"Don't be like that, Kate. Who knows, you might have fun if you go take part in the Mardi Gras parties."
"I don't want to. Just tell that traitorous sister of mine that I got here in one piece. I'll call when I'm done with this job."Before he could say another word, she returned the phone to its cradle. Using her teeth, she tugged the gloves off first one hand, then the other. Fingertips were pressed lightly against her temples in the hopes of diverting the growing headache.
It was impossible to tell her family how coming here, at this time, would be a mistake. Parties, drinking, police officers out in force... a challenge. She groaned and rolled onto her side.'No. There will be no 'aquiring' things while we're down here. We have two things to do, that's it. End of story.'
That didn't keep her mind from drifting, thinking up scenarios and discarding them. In a desperate attempt to distract herself, she pulled out the number for Lucian's friend and picked up the phone again. Business. She just needed to concentrate on business. The sooner she was done, the sooner she could go home.
