“How'd you like the grope show?” I chuckle as he grabs his bag and we head down the hallway. “Looked like fun.”
“Yeah... not something I'd like to do again,” Jackson grumbles, until he sees me chuckling. “What?”
“Even if I were the one doing the groping?” I tease, and Jackson is surprised. “Come on Jackson, we need to keep up the appearance of a young couple going on vacation, if anyone wonders. A little... banter isn't out of place. We show up at the hotel looking like two strangers sharing a room, and we're going to create more questions.”
Jackson blinks, then nods in understanding. “You're right, of course. But do I have to call you Kit the whole time?”
I shake my head. “Nope, the hotel reservation is totally different, and it’s one of those places that doesn't ask too many questions.”
Jackson stops and pulls me to the side. “Katrina, are you sure you want to go slumming the whole time? I mean, no offense, but wouldn't it be nice to treat yourself to at least a night or two in a decent place? Hell, even a Marriott?”
I smile and pat his cheek, he looks so cute. “It's the way I operate, Jackson. Now, maybe it doesn't look nice, but the way I live provides me something your lifestyle doesn't.”
“What's that?”
“Freedom,” I tell him, reaching down and taking his hand. “Besides, if there's time, maybe we can do some nice things. They just have to be untraceable and paid for in cash. You put anything on your credit card, and Peter's going to wonder just what the hell you're doing in Miami.”
Jackson thinks about it quietly as we walk, hand in hand. Sure, it's part of our deception, but to be honest, it feels nice, and when he gives my hand a squeeze, I squeeze back, taking a look over at him. He's smiling, and I can't help but smile back. “What?”
“I understand what you're saying. By the way, you look dynamite today, even if it is the first time in weeks that I haven't seen your belly button.”
I look down at my t-shirt and jeans, chuckling. “They're too damn tight. Only reason I have these is because I can wear them without having to put on a belt. I hate going through metal detectors.”
“You could have worn those martial arts pants you've got.”
I shake my head and laugh. “I look strange enough as it is. I wear those, and I'd for sure get attention from the authorities.”
The flight to Miami is pleasant, and I notice that Jackson pulls out a book a few minutes into the flight. Andrea was true to her word. Rich Dad has been replaced with Think and Grow Rich. “How's it coming along?”
“I think I'm getting it,” Jackson says. “I mean, reading the other book, I was a bit off because he's always focusing on the real estate aspect. But this guy, he's different. He's talking about the market, and using your own ideas to build your business. It makes a lot more sense to me. Maybe because I'm just not into real estate.”
“And what ideas do you have?”
Jackson shakes his head, unsure. “Not ready to really think about that yet. I mean, I've spent four years since high school being a party boy. I've gotta figure myself out before I start throwing around money in investments. Still, if you had to push me on the subject, I'd say... well, the one thing I know is training, unless you're talking partying and maybe a little bit about cars. And fashion, how to dress for success. Maybe I could be a style consultant or something,” he says and frowns.
“Those are good starts,” I advise him, leaning in and giving him a nudge.
“Gee, thanks,” Jackson says, still giving me a little smile. We alternate between reading and chatting during the two-hour flight, landing without a problem at the airport and heading toward the car rental counters. Thankfully for me, Darcy was willing to put one of her credit cards on the reservation to secure our car, and Jackson peels off the cash for it out of his pocket.
We drive to the hotel, which isn't as bad as Jackson feared it would be. Sure, it's not going to show up in the Yelp or Zagat's guide to Miami, but the room is clean, and the bed is a king. Jackson stops when we put our bags down, looking at the bed. “Uh... Katrina?”
“Yeah?”
“There's only one bed,” he says, pointing. “Only one bed,” he repeats.
I laugh and sit down, sinking into the pillow top mattress. Ooh, nice. I don't think I've ever had a bed this nice before, in fact. “It's okay, Jackson. Remember, we're here supposedly as a couple. Now, it'd be strange for a couple to get a room with two beds, don't you think?”
“But... okay. You're right,” Jackson says, taking his shoulder bag and putting it against the wall. It’s weird with him acting this way, and I wonder if it’s just for show. “I guess I can sleep on the floor or something, it'll be okay.”