I mouthed his full name at him before broaching the subject of the photos before Rohan could. "Admit it, they got my best side."
"You think this is a joke?" Rohan turned the deadbolt on the door with an ominous click. "I just spent twenty minutes talking Mandelbaum out of putting your ass on the next plane home."
I pushed aside a lipstick-stained wine glass. "You must be quite the multitasker."
"I took the call in the bedroom." His gaze turned flinty. "Don't worry. I made it up to her."
I dumped my bag on the table next to Rohan's laptop with a hard thwack. "On what grounds did the good rabbi want me recalled?"
"Endangering the mission."
"Because of the photos? Why just me? You're all over the web, too." I breathed through my mouth attempting to minimize the cancerous, pervasive reek of Poppy's floral perfume.
"It was a given I'd be recognized. The Brotherhood was prepared for that."
"First off, I haven't been identified." I pulled out my laptop and plug.
"Yet."
"Second, the Brotherhood should have been prepared for me."
"No one can prepare for you," Drio quipped. Pulling out his phone, he pushed the coffee table farther back with his foot. All the better to take up more space. "Not even FEMA."
"That's a bullshit double standard." I pried my fingers off my laptop and placed it gently on the table, wishing all manner of pointy dry anal probing on Mandelbutt. Stupid misogynist douchebag. "I'm hanging around a rock star and a famous actor. I'm not invisible."
"You were supposed to be." Rohan stalked toward me. "Groupie. Background. Furniture."
Drio whistled through his teeth, not looking up from his phone.
Anger ballooned up inside me, my skin tightening from the strain of trying to contain it. "Furniture?! I'm not some half-assembled IKEA bookcase!"
"That's your role."
Electric sparks flew off my skin, singeing the carpet. "Is yours asshole?"
Rohan barked a laugh. "Yeah. You think Samson doesn't know about my rep back in the day? Why would I behave other than how everyone expects if that would raise more questions and suspicions?"
I turned around in a circle. "I don't see Samson here so what's your excuse now?"
A vein twitched in Rohan's temple. "Drio, a little back up?"
Drio glanced up from his phone. "Mom always told me not to eavesdrop on this part of the conversation."
Rohan looked at his partner with murder in his eyes. "It's only a matter of time before King learns your name," he said.
"Big deal." Now was not the time to voice any of my concerns about the possibility of discovery. Now was the time to play it like I had nothing to hide. Which honestly, was the only way to play it. With Rohan and Samson. "I was introduced to him as Lolita, for fuck's sake. Not even Samson thinks I was born with that name. Should my real identity come out, I'll say I'm reinventing myself." I pulled a sad face. "It was just so boring being good little Jewish girl Nava Katz." I fluttered my eyelashes.
Rohan wasn't amused.
"Relax." I flipped open my laptop and powered it up. "It's all part and parcel of this quest of mine to be famous. This quest you yourself approved last night."
"Much as I hate to agree with Nava," Drio said, "she's right. Samson isn't going to think twice about the fact that she didn't give him her real name. The photos mean squat and don't endanger the mission. Hell, he probably orchestrated them. The only reason King would target her is if he discovers she's Rasha."
Holy shit. Drio defending me? He laughed at my floored expression. "I live to keep you off-balance." He put his phone away. "Now can we get down to business?"
"Happy to." I sat down in the chair, dumping my laptop plug on the ground. It landed next to two odd indentations in the carpet. Something had crushed the pile. Something like …
Poppy's knees? "You forgot to tidy up after your toy."
Rohan was supposed to look blank, not confirm my suspicions with his involuntary glance at that specific spot.
Helpless against the onslaught imagery of red lipstick on specific portions of his anatomy, I shot him a scathing look. "You fucker."
"Not technically," Drio said.
"Working smart, not hard," Rohan fired back at me.
"Five bucks says hard too." Drio smirked, then held up his hands at the death glare I leveled his way.
Rohan grabbed a bottle off the top of the suite's small bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey. "Wasn't that the game plan you set for this mission, Nava? Like I said, why behave other than how I'm expected to?"