That Time in Paris by Logan Ryles

Author:Logan Ryles [Ryles, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ryker Morgan Publishing
Published: 2021-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

8

Wolfgang stood in the main sitting room of the hotel suite and fidgeted with his cuff links. Following the brief, Megan had left the hotel and returned two hours later with a couple of shopping bags and two shoeboxes. She produced a brand-new tux from one bag, complete with a black bowtie, a pressed shirt, and silver cuff links. Wolfgang wasn’t sure if a professor from a liberal arts college would wear cuff links, but he wasn’t about to question her.

Megan disappeared into one bedroom, and Wolfgang dressed. Kevin left to rent a car that could pass as a private taxi, and Edric took a shower. Wolfgang wondered how you showered with a full-arm cast, and decided he probably didn’t want to know.

“How do I look?”

Wolfgang turned to Lyle, flexing his arms and wiggling his shoulders beneath the jacket. Lyle looked over his computer screen, squinting through his smudged glasses. Then, to Wolfgang’s surprise, he stood up and stepped around the table, approaching Wolfgang and inspecting him from head to toe.

The tux fit well. It wasn’t a custom garment by any stretch, but Wolfgang felt good in it. He just wished it left room for his gun. There was no chance of squeezing the Berretta into the confines of the form-fitting jacket, and he felt a little naked.

Lyle nodded once, then reached up and adjusted Wolfgang’s bowtie. “Almost good enough,” Lyle said.

“Good enough?” Wolfgang laughed. “Good enough for what?”

Lyle pointed toward the bedroom as the door clicked open. “To stand next to her.”

Wolfgang turned, and the breath caught in his throat. Megan wore a jet-black evening gown, long enough to trail the floor, with a slit that ran up her right leg to just inches below her waist. The gown hugged her hips and was suspended by a single shoulder strap that rode just to the left of her neck.

Her hair was pinned back on one side, while the majority of her locks flowed loosely over her shoulders and down her exposed back. Her crimson lipstick matched her hair in a darker shade of red, but the whole ensemble was offset by an awkwardness in her posture that Wolfgang hadn’t seen before.

Wolfgang swallowed, and Lyle laughed.

“What?” Megan snapped, avoiding his gaze.

“Nothing,” Wolfgang mumbled. “You . . . you look nice.”

“Great. Are you ready?”

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