Kiss Me Quick

Chapter 1-2

The original plan had been completely different. Chase had driven from Jupiter Point to Las Vegas at the request of Will Knight, his boss and the man engaged to Chase's half-sister Merry. Will used to be a deputy sheriff, and Cindy Tran had been a civilian assistant at his office. Will called her the best assistant they'd ever had—smart and funny and definitely going places.

Then she'd disappeared when Will found out she was doing the bidding of a local drug smuggling ring. She had a good reason; they'd threatened her parents. Ever since Will had put it all together, he'd been worried about Cindy. Finally he'd gotten a tip that she was hiding out in Las Vegas.

So when Chase became Will's intern, his first big solo assignment had been to go to Vegas, find Cindy Tran, and keep an eye on her.

Not talk to her.

Not drink Long Island Iced Teas with her.

Definitely not marry her.

So much for plans.

Chase had first spotted Cindy at a poker table at the Rio. He'd worried that it might be hard to identify one particular twenty-something among the throngs of partiers, but it was easy. She looked nothing like the other deadly serious poker-faced gamblers. She wasn't the only Asian, or even the only Asian woman, or even the only young Asian woman. But she was the only one wearing a red conductor's cap shading her face, her hair in two pigtails, vinyl boots printed with Marilyn Monroe images, and a black vinyl backpack slung over her shoulders.

Also, her poker face was sadly lacking. From the next table over, Chase kept a close eye on her as she played hand after hand. Her right eyebrow always twitched upward when she had a good hand. If he'd been playing against her, he would have cleaned her out in no time.

But the other players at her table didn't notice that detail, so she was doing pretty well.

He ordered another club soda—he was on the job, after all—and texted Will.

Found her. What now?

Just don't lose her. I'll come as soon as I can. Good job, Will answered.

Chase appreciated the pat on the back. He knew perfectly well that people saw him as an overprivileged spoiled rich kid. Part of that was accurate. He was overprivileged, he was rich, but he wasn't spoiled and he also wasn't a kid anymore. He'd broken with his parents in order to track down Merry and claim her as his sister. He was done letting them control his life. He didn't want their world; he wanted something more real, more nitty-gritty, more meaningful.

Doing the investigative work to find Merry had been so fun and satisfying that he'd asked Will if he could work with him at his new private detective agency. Unpaid, for now, until he'd proven himself.

Well, so far, so good, he thought smugly as he watched Cindy win another hand. He'd tracked down a vulnerable girl who was possibly still in danger from a drug ring. And now he was going to protect her until Will arrived. He was pretty darn good at this gig.

Except that he needed a bathroom break.

He waited until the dealer at Cindy's table started the next hand, so he could be sure she wouldn't disappear before he got back. Then he slipped off his chair and hurried to the restroom.

Surveillance skills, check. Deductive reasoning, check. Internet search savvy, check. Really, he had it all when it came to detective work. And it was fun, too. Hanging out in Las Vegas surveilling a pretty girl like Cindy Tran? No complaints from Chase Merriweather about that.

Until he walked out of the restroom and found himself flat against the wall with a hand around his throat.

Cindy's hand.

A five-foot tall Vietnamese girl had him cornered. So maybe his self-defense skills needed some work if he was going to continue with this investigating gig.

"Why are you stalking me? Who are you?" she demanded.

He tried to answer, but only a croak came out. He gestured at his throat. She loosened her grip only slightly, just enough so he could speak. "Will," he managed.

"Will what? Will I kick your ass unless you tell me what you're up to? Yes, I will."

He peeled enough of her fingers away from his neck so he could elaborate. "Will Knight sent me."

A guilty look flashed across her face. "From Jupiter Point?"

He nodded. She released her grip on his throat and took his wrist instead. She dragged him down the carpeted corridor, then around a few more corners until they entered the Jolly Roger, a restaurant at the end of the casino area. She headed for the farthest, darkest corner of the long bar.

"Two Long Island iced teas," she told the bartender as she hopped onto a stool.

"I'm not drinking," Chase told her, taking the seat next to her. "I'm working."

"So you say." The drinks arrived and she pushed one toward him. "The question is, for who?"

"I told you, for Will. He's a private eye now, and he's engaged to my sister and—"

"But he just started," she interrupted. "He doesn't have any employees."

"I'm an intern," he admitted. "I'm not getting paid."

"Then you can drink. What's he going to do, fire his future brother-in-law?" She sipped her iced tea through a straw and watched him. He weighed his options. Perhaps the best way to keep tabs on Cindy was to hang out with her. That way he wouldn't lose track of her before Will showed up.

He took a sip, nearly gagging at the combination of liquors that went into the drink. "Are you trying to kill me with this?"

She considered him, her head tilting so her one pigtail brushed against her shoulder. "I suppose that's one way to go. But no, it's not Plan A. So Will sent you to apprehend me?"

"No." He took another swallow of the vile drink. "Apprehend? Of course not. He's not a deputy anymore. He's just worried about you. He knows about your parents."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Knows what?"

"Well, he knows that Buckaroo Brown holds the mortgage on their house and he's foreclosing on them. I assume that's why you're here. Do you really think poker's the way to get the money?"

"Well, I thought about going back in time and being born into a wealthy family, but that means I'd have to go through puberty again. No thank you." He laughed, a little uncomfortably, since he had been born into a wealthy family.

"Ah-ha," she said. Her drink rattled in her straw. She ordered another one.

"Ah-ha, what?"

"The wealthy family reference." She pointed her straw at him. "That struck a nerve."

He thought about denying it, but didn't see the point. "What does it matter? I'm not the one gambling away my savings at a casino. Don't you know the house always wins?"

"Not always. If it always won, no one would ever try. Besides, I have a method. I'm actually up about five thousand dollars, or I was before I had to bust a creepy guy stalking me." She took another self-righteous sip, gazing at him pointedly.

"For the last time, I'm not stalking you," he began, exasperated.

"So you admit you're creepy?"

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "You really think I'm creepy? I'm going to need another drink at this rate."

She grinned cheekily. At his signal, the bartender refilled his drink.

They drank in silence for a moment, eyeing each other like two cobras waiting for an opportunity to strike. "Okay, what's the real deal?" she finally asked. "Start from the beginning. What's your name?"

"Chase Merriweather."

"No, seriously. Like, not your spy game code name."

He winced. "Seriously, that's my name."

"Chase Merriweather, Private Eye? That's like Remington Steele territory. It sounds completely made up."

"Well, it isn't. You can look me up. Ever heard of the Merriweather department stores? It's a chain on the east coast. Family business."

Still looking puzzled, she traced a pattern in the condensation on her glass. "So why is a department store dude following me around Las Vegas?"

"How many times do I have to explain it? Will is worried that you might be in—" He broke off as she suddenly shifted her position, as though hiding behind him. "What's wrong?"

"That guy at the other end of the bar," she whispered. "He was at my poker table. I think he followed me over here."