Chapter 51
Anna
I stared at my so-called boyfriend. "Flynn? What areyoudoing here?"
I wasn't even sure what I meant.
Here at the steakhouse?
Here in the women's restroom?
I shook my head.Here in my twisted nightmare?
Hey, it wasn't that far-fetched. By now, I was starting to seriously wonder if I was dreaming – andnotin a good way.
With barely a glance in my direction, Flynn replied, "Later."
From inside the stall, the cameraman yelled, "Call security!"
The women and I exchanged another look. It was the redhead who spoke first. "Screw you!" she called back. "We'rewith Flynn Archer."
Her friend chimed in, "Got that right!"
As for myself, I had no idea what to say. The logical part of me was tempted to point out that steakhouses didn'thavesecurity, at least not that I knew of. And if the guy wanted someone to call the police, he was barking up the wrong tree.
After all, he'd walked in on his own accord – orsprintedin, if I wanted to get all technical. And seriously, shouldn't someone be calling security onhim?
Flynn eyed the stall with quiet malice. "You've got ten seconds."
The guy called back, "Or what?"
"Or I'm dragging your ass outta there."
Next to me, the redhead breathed, "Oh, my God. Just like he did to Lord Avery inSwordstone."
Funny, it hadn't occurred to me, but yes, Flynn's characterhaddone that – except Lord Avery had been hiding in a horse stallandhe'd been disguised as a groom. But that wasn't the thing that made me frown. It was the recollection that when the scene had ended, Lord Avery had been missing his head.
Reluctantly, I asked Flynn, "What are you gonna do?"
The redhead gave a loud huff. "He's gonna drag him out, just like he said."
"Yeah," the spiky one said. "Weren't you listening?"
"Of course I’m listening," I said. "I just meant…" I looked to Flynn and asked, "What happens after?"
With his gaze still on the stall door, Flynn replied, "That depends on Ronnie."
Ronnie?
The guy in the stall?
Thathadto be who Flynn meant.
So the two guys knew each other? They must. After all, it's not like "Ronnie" had been wearing a name tag.
But this wasn't the thing that had me reeling. It was the realization that if Flynn knew Ronnie, he mustalsoknow the brunette who'd been sitting at Ronnie's table.
Back at the waffle house, she and Flynn had even exchanged a look.
