Things Not Subject To Gravity - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

At 5:30 on Thursday morning, the alarm went off, echoing from the digital clock set on the bedside table in the bedroom. Dee's eyes flung open. Feeling a weight on his chest, he looked down to find out that Maria was still sleeping over him. A satisfied smile curved his lips. His strategy to earn her trust had paid off.
Careful not to wake her up, he managed to slip off the sofa and hurried to shut off the alarm. When he got back to the living room, he found the girl still asleep. He pulled her legs up and placed a blanket over her. Maria murmured something but, as she turned around on the sofa, her eyes kept shut. He looked at her peaceful face for ten minutes, confirming that she was still lost in her dreams.
He decided to take the chance and placed a tracking device in between the outer leather and the tongue of her combat boots, deep down so that she wouldn't notice. Then, he moved on his daily routine.
Back in the bedroom, he slipped off his jeans and shirt to wear grey workout trousers and a white t-shirt. He quickly washed his face and pulled back his hair before heading again to the living room. There he wrote a post-it, sticking it to the entrance door and finally, he left for his morning run and exercises.
He came back at 6:30, finding the girl still asleep. He took down the post-it, crumpled it up and threw it away. He thrust his drenched trousers and shirt into the laundry basket and got into the shower. He consciously avoided whistling under the pleasant touch of the running water.
It took him less than ten minutes to get ready. It had been a good idea to choose Joe's appearance. Having his brows and hair back to his original color was far more practical, and he didn't need to waste half an hour on makeup, or be forced into wearing contacts all day. Also, it looked good.
He smiled at his reflection in the mirror.
Nobody knew his real appearance in New York and it would've been easy to disappear anyway. He slipped on a pair of light-blue jeans, a tight white t-shirt with a round neckline and an unbuttoned light-blue shirt.
When he peeked into the living room, he realized that after all the breakfast was up to him. Maria's blissful face and regular breathing didn't give any sign of an imminent change.
Dee headed to the kitchen and decided on preparing fresh fruit smoothie, omelet, toast, and coffee. When he was almost done, a cell phone's alarm filled the living room with a terrible metal song, followed by growling that culminated in a scream. He glanced at the wall clock—6:50.
"Cazzo! Cazzo! Cazzo! (Shit! Shit! Shit!)" Maria repeated like a cussing mantra as the sound of her steps dashed around the room.
Joe plated the omelet, set it in the middle of the kitchen's table and went to check on her. She was gone from the sofa, but he found her in the bathroom—facing the mirror—shirtless. She was simultaneously brushing her hair with his comb and her teeth with his toothbrush.
"As I said, just make yourself at home," he teased, stepping in the room.
Her mouth full of white foam, she babbled uncomprehensible sounds. He cocked his brow, half a smile pulling on his lips. With the same renowned elegance of an Albanian truck driver, Maria spat in the basin and, thrusting her hand into her bra, she fixed up her breasts. She squinted at her own reflection, completely ignoring Joe.
"I'm late," she said, finally throwing him a glance in the mirror. "Have you got a shirt—not black—to loan me?"
"Breakfast is ready," he replied with a warm smile, while his eyes trailed over her would-be domme mise—black skinny jeans and a push-up bra. "I thought you liked black."
"It might have escaped your notice, but I should be already on the other side of the bridge at this time. I've got no time for explanations," she countered.
Joe drew closer until his chest leaned against her shoulders. She flinched at the contact. Still, he raised his left arm and placed his watch in front of her eyes.
"You've got almost an hour before the cafe's opening time," he pointed out.
"Yes, but..." She bit her lip and looked away. "I've got some things to do before that."
"Don't tell me—you've got to see your Sybil this early?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around.
She gave him a guilty look that just confirmed his words. Before he could say any more, the gurgling of coffee filling the moka reached his ears. Shaking his head, he let go of her and headed to the kitchen.
As he poured the black steamy drink into the cups, he whistled a joyous Alouette. He had hit the jackpot: Maria would be his magic passe-partout. All he had to do was taking good care of her so that she would lead him to Vain before Saturday.
From behind his back, she cleared her throat. His whistling stopped as he looked back from over his shoulder. She had dressed up with the same dark clothes from the previous night.
"I'm sorry," she said, although she didn't do anything wrong. "It's not like we have a date this early, the thing is—I work for him."
Holding in his hands a little tray with the cups, sugar, and side-milk, Joe turned around. He laid it on the table and gave her a genuinely surprised look.
"What kind of job?" Curiosity biting at the back of his mind, words slipped his mouth before he could think of the best way of phrasing the question.
Maria huffed. "His housekeeper," she replied dryly and her hand ran through her messy hair. "Listen, Joe, I'd love to talk about it, but I had to sign an NDA to get the job. So, can we just avoid this subject, please?"
He gestured for her to sit, while he completed his lovely breakfast composition with the colorful smoothies and brown bread. Maria hesitated, her lips pressed together as she stood there, staring at him. He sat and rested his elbows on the table, giving her a stern look.
"Alright. I won't be asking any more questions, but since your top-secret job doesn't exist for me, I can't bring you there." She nodded before he continued. "Now, we are going to have breakfast and then, I'll drop you at the café as if you'd never told me anything about Sybil." He gave her a reassuring smile, mellowing out his tone as he spoke again. "If you ditch work to respect the NDA's conditions, he won't get mad, don't you think?"
She nodded once more, concern draining the color away from her cheeks. "I'll just make a call," she murmured and giving Joe a last nervous glance she left the room.
When she returned just five minutes later, she looked even more restless. With her youthful face and big troubled eyes—like a high schooler that had never ditched school before and was dragged into it by her schoolmates.
"No reply, I guess," he noted. "Did you write him a message?"
She nodded, her teeth tearing at her lower lip, her eyes watery.
"Never got late or skipped work before?" he asked paternally. "It's not the end of the world, you know?" He tried to cheer her up and again gestured for her to sit in front of him.
"That's not it," she murmured.
"Are you afraid he'll get mad at you and fire you?" he inquired.
She walked over and dropped on the chair. "The last thing I want is to let him down. I owe him too much," she vaguely justified before she bit her lip again, trying to shut herself up.
Joe leaned in and looked straight into her eyes. "I wish we could talk about him and I'm sure it would make you feel better but, since it's not possible, I've got no choice other than insisting for you to have breakfast." He offered her his most understanding tone and a gentle smile.
Maria slowly moved her hand to grab the cup of black coffee. "Thanks..." she said under her breath.
She managed to gobble down her part of the breakfast and even praise him for his cooking, but her mind was elsewhere. He didn't comment about it and just patiently tried to cheer her up.
Thirty minutes later he was cutting off the bike's engine, in front of Caffé Palermo. He told her he needed to do a recon round but promised that he would be back in no time. Before she could step away, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. As his right hand rested on the bike, he wrapped her in his left arm. It was an innocent hug just to give her a feeling of his presence, but when she lifted her head to look in his eyes, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
Maria's eyes widened and she brought her hand to her mouth. She was probably surprised that he kissed her just in front of the cafe, where her father might see them. Dee knew it. He actually wanted to give her the impression that he wasn't just playing around. He smiled and patted her back before withdrawing.
She didn't move away, her eyes darting around for a moment. Her hand fell down, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.
Then, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and gave it back to him. She didn't hold back, softly biting his bottom lip and stroking it with her tongue in a naturally seductive way.
He inhaled deeply before he let her in. A hint of her peach scent still lingered on her skin, her tongue was smooth as silk but challenging—a battling fire. As he stepped in the battlefield, his left hand grabbed the back of her head and the right one left the bike to wrap her hip. The drive of excitement almost got to his head, but he forced himself to subdue and let her control the kiss.
With her small build, smug attitude and obvious inexperience, she was like a kitten toying with a big, black dog. As the blood ran down to his crotch, he felt the impulse to take over growing stronger and he was forced to pull back.
Panting hard—darker lips parted and glinting eyes—she slapped her flushed cheeks. Trying to cool down, he took a deep breath and his hands moved back to the bike. Before he could say anything, Maria ran away, quickly disappearing inside the café.
As his dark instincts subsided, Dee couldn't contain a chuckle. He'd never had an Italian lover, based on the assumption that Italians were too emotional for his taste, but he had to admit that it could have its positive sides.
He was about to restart the engine when his telephone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the name on the screen. His eyes darkened, but he brushed the touchpad to answer.
"Good morning, Mister Green. This is William Hunt, the Night Hotel's front-desk manager."
"Good morning, Mister Hunt. What's the matter?" Dee asked, mimicking Green's British accent and controlled, mellow voice.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I've got a message for you from Sybil Vain," the man said quickly, in his professional tone. He took a thoughtful break before speaking again. "As I did get the impression that you were looking for Mister Vain, I thought I should inform you as soon as possible."
For a moment Dee kept silent, taken aback by Vain's unpredictable behavior. He was sure that the man would've never thought to look for him in the same hotel he had been lodging himself. Normally, the most obvious places were the last ones people would check. Still, Vain wasn't normal.
"You did well indeed, Mister Hunt, and I'm very thankful for your thoughtfulness. Please, go ahead," Dee managed to reply, keeping up the gentleman's facade.
"Don't mention it, Mister Green. Now, Mister Vain called us to let you know that he was planning to visit you at ten-thirty this morning. I told him that you were outside and he mentioned that he was going to come either way since he had a scheduled meeting with an acquaintance of yours at our Hotel's cafe," the receptionist revealed.
"Is that all?" Dee asked, hardly keeping his cool.
"Yes, Mister Green. I hope I was helpful and wish you a pleasant day," the man concluded.
Dee returned the nicety and cut the call, his mind already speculating over the unexpected. Vain's move could've seemed just a reckless one, but it was actually troublesome. If Dee wanted to show up at the Night Hotel for the appointment, he needed to get back to Green's appearance. It was an inconvenient and tricky thing to pull off, which would force him away from the cafe, lose sight of Maria and run the risk of blowing his cover with the girl—an oddly similar situation to the one that happened at the lingerie shop. Dee wasn't going to fall for the same trick again. Also, there was no guarantee that the Oracle would actually show up.
His priority was to keep Maria in the dark, at least until she had revealed Vain's location. Meeting the Oracle beforehand was imprudent, and literally against his better judgment. Even if he wanted to solve things as fast as possible—already out of character for him—he wasn't clueless enough to take the bait so easily.
Having the best cards, Vain held the game in his hands. Dee couldn't afford to spoil his only advantage.
He started the bike and absent-mindedly ran down Fifth toward the Theater District. When he realized he had almost reached Times Square, he cussed and turned back.
After a couple of rides along the Park, his head had cooled down. He just needed to act well with Maria and the best thing to do was ignoring Vain's message.
He parked near the cafe and strolled toward the entrance. He settled at the same table as the previous day, glanced seductively at Maria when she came to greet him with a slightly embarrassed smile, and ordered his coffee. His face didn't show any sign of distress and he pulled through Maria's flirting without a scratch. He took up the paper, pretending to read.
While he was waiting for the coffee, his phone rang again. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. Something was definitely wrong with that day. He tucked his AirPods in his ears and tapped twice over the surface of the right one to answer.
"Good morning, sir—to what do I owe the pleasure?" he started in a controlled voice, careful to keep Joe's accent, while his hand ran to massage his forehead.
"Oh my, you are so lovely it almost breaks my heart. I want to record your voice and play it as my ring tone." John's low, velvety voice wrapped Dee in its voluptuous coils before tightening around his neck. "Have you got any news about our little deal?"
Dee tried to keep the conversation fit to Detective Tagliaferri. "We haven't found his present whereabouts yet, but it won't be long now. We have a good lead," he spoke in a laid back tone.
"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" John asked, irony sugar-coating his words. "And you know what's even better?" He chuckled softly.
Dee didn't reply, holding his breath and bracing for the impact.
"At long last, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you in person, my dear Doctor."
"How so? I'm not planning to drop by your place anytime soon," Dee countered, arching his brow.
"Rejoice—I've come to New York and I'll be waiting for you like a damsel in distress." John's perky tone was like a summer day in the arctic pole—as bright and warm as the sun might've got, ice never melted. His muffled chuckle slowly subsided, giving way to his business persona. "Our meeting is scheduled for half-past ten this morning, at the Night's Hotel cafe."
"The timing is not right," Dee replied, his eyes darting around to check if Maria was nearby. "I can't explain this now, but there's a problem. It's not safe," he added, lowering his voice.
John's steady breathing got closer to the speaker. "I'm very sorry, did I give you the impression I was asking?" he whispered gently.
"Improvising like that puts the entire operation in jeopardy. He might be there," Dee insisted, almost forgetting about his cover.
"Letting your emotions get the best of you can threaten the entire operation. You better know your place and be a good boy—this is not your choice to make," John corrected him, his voice as mellow as ever. "Ten-thirty sharp. And, Dee, don't keep me waiting." He swiftly cut off the call.
Dee huffed, holding back his internal swearing. He put on his aviators to conceal his angry eyes and tapped his phone screen to send a message.
He had an awful feeling about the whole situation—like he had been framed. The only thing he could do was show up at the hotel as Joe. The Oracle was looking for David Green and Maria didn't show any sign of doubting the detective. It was safe to assume that they didn't know his current disguise.
Best-case-scenario, Dee could manage to sneak a peek at Sybil Vaind without blowing his own cover. Worst-case-scenario, being a detective gave him higher chances to get away and a gun.
He texted John, asking for a full description of the man's appearance and the code words to confirm his identity.
Still, at that point, he had started questioning his supervisor's motives.