Unwelcome distractions

QUINN'S POV

"There he is."

Neha's voice comes through my earpiece just as another black sedan rolls beneath the hotel's entrance canopy.

I lift my gaze from the guest list in my hand. A man steps out in a tailored charcoal suit, black gloves, and polished shoes that barely make a sound against the marble.

Ronan Siren.

For one ridiculous second, all I can think about is waking up in his hotel room.

Heat crawls up my neck.

Damn him.

I tear my eyes away before he can notice. "Eyes forward," I mutter to myself.

"Talking to yourself already?" Neha asks.

I ignore her. Our assignment tonight is simple: maintain the perimeter and screen incoming guests.

No unnecessary interactions. A very simple procedure.

So naturally, the universe decides to send Ronan Siren walking through my checkpoint.

He reaches me with that infuriatingly calm stride of his. For a brief second, neither of us speaks.

Then one corner of his mouth lifts.

"Officer."

His voice is smooth enough to make me suspicious on principle.

"Director."

His eyes linger on my face. "Is that disappointment I see, Officer?"

"Your pass," I call out automatically as the man at his side hands it over to me.

His smile grows. "I assumed we'd left things on better terms after yesterday."

I let a fake smile play on my lips.

"Mr. Siren, have a pleasant evening."

I sidestep to let him into the building.

"Tsk. And here I thought I would've been missed."

My gaze finds Neha, and she narrows her eyes at me questioningly.

I refuse to acknowledge either of them.

"Enjoy the event, Director," I try again.

He doesn't move. "I haven't seen you since breakfast."

"You mean the morning you held me hostage in your hotel room?" I snap, finally facing him.

"I distinctly remember leaving the door open."

My jaw tightens. "I'll remember that."

"I hope so."

Without another word, I step around him and continue toward the ballroom.

Behind me, I hear his quiet chuckle.

Arrogant jerk.

---

The ballroom fills quickly.

Politicians and executives with their aides. People with smiles too expensive to be genuine.

I make another round of the room, checking exits, memorizing faces, and noting security positions.

Everything is exactly as it should be. So why can't I stop noticing him?

Speaking with donors. Laughing at something an elderly woman says.

Accepting a glass of champagne he never seems to drink.

Every time I look up, he's somewhere within sight. It's irritating beyond doubt.

Even more irritating is that every single time our eyes meet, he catches me looking.

Every single goddamn time. As though he knows exactly where my attention will wander.

"Is there something I should know?"

Neha appears beside me carrying two glasses of water.

"About what?" I ask distractedly, taking one of the glasses from her.

"The Siren god"

"Huh?"

"The one you've looked at approximately eighteen times."

"Your eyes are literally there now."

I look away from Ronan, turning to face her. "...He's a guest."

"So are another fifty people here."

I remain silent. Neha smirks.

"Like I said, Quinn, is there something I should know?"

"No," I answer, turning my face to the other side of the room where the other guests mill around.

"You sure?"

"Neha..." I groan. "Drop this."

"Fine. I'm just saying, when it comes to him, you've always been weird. Remember that night after you visited Dawn..."

I say nothing, sipping on the water instead. "Is he always that handsome?"

I nearly choke on my water.

"Neha."

"What?"

"Do your job."

"I am." She grins.

"I'm also collecting evidence."

"Of what?"

"Whether our Officer Quinn has developed an unhealthy interest in one Mr. Ronan Siren."

I walk away before she can say anything else.

---

The senator arrives a few minutes later. Applause follows him toward the podium.

He delivers the sort of speech politicians always deliver.

Progress and growth. Promises wrapped in polished words.

I scan the room instead. Nothing unusual happens until he steps down.

His assistant leans in and whispers something. The senator nods before turning toward Ronan.

Ronan sets his untouched champagne on a nearby tray. The two exchange a brief handshake before heading toward a private corridor.

Instinctively, I straighten. "Movement," I murmur into my radio.

"I see them," Neha replies.

"They're heading into Conference Room B."

The door closes behind them. I keep my eyes on it. We were the eyes, not allowed in.

Minutes pass as we keep our focus around the vicinity.

"They're probably discussing donations," the third officer says over the radio, humor in his voice.

"Maybe." Neha chuckles. "Pretty words for another investment with government funds."

They both laugh. I chuckle a bit too, but something about it feels... off.

I check my watch again. It's been nearly thirty minutes, and still no movement.

"You expecting fireworks?" Neha asks.

"I hope not."

"You've looked at that door more than the exits."

"I know."

"So stop," she grumbles.

I force myself to continue my rounds.

Guests laugh as the music plays softly. Waiters weave through the crowd carrying silver trays.

Everything appears normal.

Forty-three minutes after they disappeared...

The door finally opens.

The senator walks out first.

Ronan follows a step behind him, just as composed as when he'd entered.

Nothing appears different. There's no sign of tension. If I hadn't watched them disappear myself, I'd think the meeting had lasted no more than a minute.

The senator resumes greeting guests. Ronan adjusts the cuff of his sleeve.

The senator reaches for a champagne flute, and just slightly, his hand trembles.

Barely noticeable, a single drop spills over the rim onto the back of his hand.

He freezes for just a heartbeat. His gaze finds Ronan across the crowd.

He quietly sets the glass back down as something close to fear flits through his eyes.

My stomach tightens. Something happened in that room. I just don't know what.

As if sensing my thoughts, Ronan turns. Our eyes meet across the ballroom.

A slow smile spreads across his face. Like he'd caught me asking the exact question he wanted me to ask.

Before I can move toward the senator, his chief of staff steps onto the small stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

The room gradually quiets.

"Unfortunately, Senator Wallace has an urgent matter requiring his immediate attention."

He offers an apologetic smile. "Tonight's reception will conclude earlier than planned. Thank you all for attending."

Confused murmurs ripple through the ballroom.

The senator leaves almost immediately, surrounded by aides. I watch him disappear through the main exit.

I turn back toward the crowd.

The place where Ronan had been standing is empty.

My stomach sinks.

I don't know why...

but I suddenly have the feeling tonight isn't over.