Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

28: unexpected turn of events

"Why're you meeting him?" Elliot asked quietly, as the car stopped at traffic.

6.46PM, and Lockwood Hotel was already within visible distance.

That was when I realized I'd been jiggling my knee up and down. I pressed down my leg. "We're going to do a role play."

"And what are our roles?"

"I'm the girl who is in love with you and thinks you believe in my father's innocence. I believe you are on my side, that somehow, you're going to help me prove my family was innocent."

"What about me?"

"You're the boy who likes me, but can't bear to let your father go to jail. Because a bit of fear, a bit of affection, a bit of gratefulness for the man who adopted you. So on the surface you look like you're supporting me, but you're trying to stop me. That's why you orchestrated the armed robbery at Nicole Romano's house."

"Ouch. Very realistic," Elliot muttered, looking out the window.

"Yeah. Very."

"The reason we're meeting him today is to put down his guard. We won't be serious threats to him in the first place because we're just high schoolers. Even less so if he thinks you're on his side." I closed my fingers into fists, and outstretched them again. Perspiration was gathering on my palms. "This might help protect the witnesses we're going to visit in future."

Slowly, Elliot nodded. "At an appropriate timing during the meal, excuse yourself for the washroom. I'll talk to him."

"Okay. What did you say to Angela Carter?"

"I told her to be nice to my girlfriend."

"For the years I knew her in my old school, I never saw her lose her wits like that."

"She has poor taste in boys. She could do better than Timothy Jackson. The public isn't aware of this yet, but his father's business is on a downward trajectory. They'll probably mess with the stocks and run off with billions. Classic move."

Reminding myself to persist, I scoffed. "Right."

"The low bun suits you."

Not anything like 'that hair', but 'low bun'. He was so smooth.

Smiling, I released my hair from the low bun and let it fall down my shoulders. "Thank you."

Glancing at my hair, Elliot grinned in amusement.

The car pulled over at the entrance of the Lockwood Hotel. A few hundred windows stared down at us, their cream white background illuminated by yellow lights.

Glass doors of the entrance slid open, and three suited men emerged in near-synchronized, soldier-like steps. With one glance at Elliot's number plate, they approached our doors and waited, expressionless.

A family of four waiting in the taxi stand with their suitcases, a middle-aged man who'd been talking to the porter, and a group of women in their twenties who seemed to have just arrived from the airport, all diverted their attention to Elliot's car.

I wet my lips. Swallowing was hard.

"Wow."

I shrugged, avoiding awkward eye contact with the men nearly pressed up my window. "I don't know if I should be feeling like the VIP being escorted to a party or a high profile criminal being moved to prison. What an experience."

Silently, Elliot unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned his body forward, towards me. The whiff of his sharp mint cologne hit my nose.

Click.