My gut's never wrong (I)

The next morning, I woke up alone in bed.

'Where is he?'

I thought as I stretched and yawned.

I walked downstairs and saw him sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

"Morning," he said as he stood and walked to me.

"Hi," I said as I took the seat opposite him.

He set his cup on the counter and sat back down.

"About yesterday, what I did, umm..." His voice trailed off.

"No," I said quickly, "don't worry about it."

He studied me for a moment and then said, "I guess you're right. It won't happen again."

I frowned. "Why not?"

"Because you're special to me and we need to get to know each other more," he said simply as he reached over and squeezed my hand.

I blushed and looked away.

"Don't look at me like that." He said this as he took my chin in his hand and forced me to look at him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I don't know why I reacted that way."

"It's okay. I understand. You were probably just overwhelmed by everything that happened."

"I was," I admitted as I stared into his eyes.

He released my face and smiled at me. "So what do you think about your stay here?"

"I love it here," I replied. "I think it will be perfect for stowaways."

He laughed and said, "I think so too; that's how I found you."

We stared at each other in silence at first before bursting out laughing.

"This isn't funny," he snorted.

"It's kind of funny," I giggled as we continued to laugh.

"Okay, I admit it is pretty amusing," he agreed. "But seriously, Cecile, I'm happy that you liked our little hideaway. We can use it to keep any unwanted guests from finding us."

"I hope we never have to," I said softly.

"Me too," he whispered back. "Now, I have some work to do. If you're hungry, help yourself to anything in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As I left the room, I heard him say, "And if you're thirsty, help yourself to the wine cooler in the icebox."

*****

The rest of the week passed quickly. Every day was filled with riding, hiking, swimming, and fishing. I loved every minute of it.

At the dawn of the day, Tristan told me he had a deal that needed his attention, and it was likely that he wouldn't be back until a couple of days later.

"Please be good while I'm gone. Rourke and the rest would keep an eye out for you while you're at the pawnshop, but they aren't always around."

"I promise," I assured him.

When he was ready to leave, he pulled me into a kiss before waving goodbye to his friend, who stood a good distance away from me.

"Be careful," I called after him.

"Always." He yelled back.

After he disappeared into his car, I went upstairs and grabbed my things.

For the first time since I could recall, I would be going out without the close eye of Tristan.

I took a look at the lotus necklace, and memories of my chaotic interview with Jonas popped up.

'Something's up. I can feel it.'

As much as Jonas did make me a bit uncomfortable sometimes, there was no way I was going back down without getting to the bottom of this mystery.

My gut was never wrong.

"Well then... work awaits!!!"

I picked up my bag and headed out the door.

*****

I arrived at the pawnshop early. The sun hadn't yet risen, and I was surprised to find the shop open already.

I walked in and waved slightly at a man behind the counter.

"Good morning, Miss Cece." He said it politely.

"Good morning, Mr. Beckham. How are you today?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

He was a middle-aged black man with neatly trimmed hair and tanned skin.

I guessed he was in his late thirties or early forties.

But he had also arrived here just as I did, for one thing—to secure a job as a part-time hobby and distraction.

But the only difference between the two of us was our working hours.

While I was sort of a staff member here at the pawnshop, Mr. Beckham was merely a part-timer.

"You came in early; how may I help you?" He asked as he watched me walk around the store.

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find Mr. Jonas."

Mr. Beckham's eyebrows rose. "Why would you want to speak to him? Has something happened?"

"Not really," I said as I turned towards the counter and leaned on it. "I just wanted to ask him a few questions."

"Ahh," he nodded, "the boss had also spoken to me about this. I'll see what I can do."

He walked out of the office and returned a moment later with Mr. Jonas and a lady.

She looked sweaty, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

My eyes glossed over her red dress, which barely covered her, but there was something that had caught my attention.

'Is that–?'