Call It Business ( Book 3 of 'Call It' Series )

Chapter 21 | The Lost Footage

"How did you even know that I was –" Macy tried to ask in a breathy murmur as she pushed herself off the door.

"I hacked the security system as you requested," Mark responded in dry mock, the corner of his lips tilting up with the emphasis, "And saw you walking into this corridor."

Macy gaped at him before letting out a harsh chuckle, "Wrong security system."

"As an overachiever, love, I couldn't help but hacked the both." He clarified. Waving a dismissive hand as if that wasn't important, he whirled around to saunter through the room, "Think of it as one of those things that once you started, it's tricky to stop."

Macy shot him a wry, exasperated smirk, following his tall and lean figure further into the room. Compared to Gerard's suite which looked like a studio apartment, this one appeared to be more of a standard hotel room, although the sitting area overlooking the wall-height windows and displaying the city view made her doubt it was kind of one the ordinary guests got. The soft colors of ash and blue dominated the room along with the occasional white. The geometric divider kept the sitting area apart from the bedside.

Stopping in the middle of the sitting area, Mark stole a glance at the laptop screen on the oval, marble coffee table, and Macy approached him to see that he was, indeed, watching the live footage of the hotel's corridors.

"Really?" She questioned with a scowl, "You hacked into the system and now you are watching it like a movie?"

"I sat through less exciting movies, love," He murmured absently, and a smirk made onto his lips as he felt her quizzical glare on him and turned to face her. Lifting both hands in mock defense, he admitted, "Fine, I might have a few personal interests and people I want to avoid."

"Like Evangeline?" Macy drawled, tipping her head back in an amused challenge.

Yet, Mark didn't seem so amused by it. Forcing out a breathy chuckle, he lifted his eyebrows and stepped past her to move to the minibar at the corner, snatching himself a glass and a bottle of martini.

"That's what I missed about you the most," He murmured nonchalantly, settling the glass down and pouring the liquid into it, "You can keep up with me, love, read me. Not everyone can do that."

So, was that a yes or no?

"Would you like some?" He asked as his fingers hesitated on pulling another glass.

"Gods, it's ten in the morning!" Macy grimaced, jerking back and crossing her arms over her chest.

He set the bottle down and swirled the glass before raising it to her as if to say cheers, "Time is an illusion, love," He murmured, "And I have jet lag."

She somehow doubted that.

Still, she watched him leaning over the minibar and sipping the drink, wondering what was wrong with him. She noted there were no visible bruises on his face this time aside from that scratch given by Zoey over his eye, and since it didn't get healed by now, she could only guess that it was permanent.

Yet, he did look disoriented as if the time was, in fact, an illusion and he hadn't been sleeping for a while. His black shirt was half tucked into his dark jeans, and his buttons were half-often, displaying on his tanned and toned chest. The dark strands of his hair fell over the side of his forehead, which he kept running his hands through it to brush off, and he clenched his jaw every time they rebelled and cascaded down again.

She could have been amused if she didn't feel... concerned.

"Now that I answered your questions, I need you to entertain one of mine," Mark mumbled, contemplating the glass before taking a sip and flickering his eyes to hers. Despite his words, he faltered, his gaze lingering all over her slowly and going distant before he shook his head and shaped his lips into a tiny smirk, "You got married to him."