The Ritz-Carlton hotel in Los Angeles was ridiculously expensive and incredibly out of her element. Beckett's mouth had fallen open when the cab had dropped her at the monstrosity of a building and she'd had to look at the hotel address Gina had given her twice just to make sure she had been taken to the right place. Then again, where else would Richard Castle stay but the most dazzling hotel in the city?
She was checked in under the alias of Lola Black, her newest false identity, and was then escorted to a glamorous room that caused her eyes to bulge in their sockets. Kate had never taken on a high profile target, definitely no one of a celebrity status, and she wasn't used to such luxuries. Being thrust into a world of them had temporarily knocked her off balance.
She wanted to be done with this assignment as soon as possible, but she was grateful she had been given the opportunity to fly out twelve hours before Richard Castle so she could have the chance to settle into this obscure lifestyle. It also gave her the vital opportunity to explore and learn her surroundings.
Once she was able to get past the slight awe of extravagancies, to abandon the astonishment that the shining Los Angeles sun had blinded her with and think like the trained professional she was, she took her time learning the hotel from top to bottom, visiting every guest accommodation – the gym, the club lounge, the spa, the pool – and memorizing the easiest path to each accessible exit. Gina had spoken to her when she had arrived that morning, informed her that Mr. Castle would conveniently be staying in the room right across the hall from hers and that his schedule would be completely clear after a morning book signing on Saturday. That gave her nearly two full days to get this done.
She intended to have it finished in half the time.
Kate arranged her meager assortment of clothes neatly in the full closet her suite offered, the space more than twice the size of her own closet back in her Harlem apartment, and sighed quietly in the silence of her room as she drifted her fingers over the few items she had brought with her for the assignment. She wouldn't need much, the trip was only for the weekend, but she had failed to find a proper dress befitting of this mission in her own closet and hadn't had the time for an impromptu shopping trip.
If she had, maybe she would have called Lanie Parish. For old time's sake.
Kate smiled sadly. They used to have such a fun time trying on clothes, sometimes going into designer boutiques they knew they could never afford a single item from, but pretending as though they could and spending hours twirling around the dressing rooms in high-priced dresses and shoes at Lanie's insistence.
It was a brief period of her life when she had allowed herself to smile every once in a while, back when she was Detective Beckett and she could still let a few people see the softer side of herself. These days, soft was weak and in her line of work, and the weak died quick.
She abandoned the walk-in closet and returned to the bedroom, snatched her purse from where it rested on the satin duvet. She needed a dress, an outstanding dress that would garner the attention of a certain best-selling author.
Kate bit her lip and fingered the envelope of money tucked away safely at the bottom of her purse. Technically, she wasn't supposed to spend any of it, unless in case of emergency, but this could be considered emergency. Her mission may even depend on her finding the perfect dress.
She justified her reasoning with a firm nod and slung the purse over her shoulder, felt for her room key still inside the front pocket of her jeans, and strode for the front door. She had some time to kill before Mr. Castle's flight would land. She was going shopping.
Travelling always made him tired. The hustle and bustle of the airport, the minor but occasional run-ins with paparazzi, the check-in process at whatever hotel Gina had booked him into. The time change was his worst enemy though, stealing three hours from him, and by the time he was finally swiping his keycard through the slot at his suite door, he was ready for bed.
Just as he was prepared to change into his pajamas though, his cellphone rang. The ominous sound of the Imperial Death March theme echoed through the empty executive suite and Rick pressed his fingers hard against his eyelids until the resulting whiteness was blinding.
"Yes, Gina?" he grumbled into the device, attempting to shimmy out of his jeans while he spoke with his soon to be ex wife.
"Happy to hear you made it safe and sound, honey," Gina replied, her voice dripping in sarcasm over the endearment, the venom twining slick and steady around her words. It's become an all too familiar greeting when it comes to his spouse these days.
"I don't want to do this tonight," Rick sighed, sitting down on the bed and hooking his finger in the ankle of his sock, tugging each one from his feet and slinging them towards his open suitcase. "I'm exhausted and I have to be up early tomorrow."
"Poor baby," she sneered, and he braced himself, ready for more unwelcome verbal sparring, but when Gina remained silent on the other line he selfishly hoped the connection had died. "Richard?"
No such luck.
"Yes?" he answered with undisguised impatience, smoothing his hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble prick his fingers. He would shave in the morning, or maybe he wouldn't shave at all, go for that ruggedly handsome look instead. Yeah, the fans seemed to like that.
"Do you want this to work? Us?" she asked, quiet and surprising, and Rick paused, torn between groaning that she was deciding to have this conversation now and attempting to feel empathy for his wife, to understand her side of this disastrous marriage they had tied - knotted - themselves into.
"Gina, you know I care about you, I do, but it's just…" Castle scratched at the back of his neck. "Are you happy? Because I'm not."
The sweat gathered along the skin of his lower back when he received nothing but silence from the other line, but it didn't last long, and any kind of hope for a sincere conversation dissipated when she spoke again.
"That's what I thought. Have fun at your signing," she snapped before ending the call.
Castle sighed, felt the guilt hovering like a storm cloud at his shoulder, threatening to seep into his skin. Gina was not the type to show she was hurt, but he knew what he'd said had wounded her, that she had been wounded for months now because of him. Most days they were civil, content even, but Alexis had been right the other day during their conversation about love. Gina elicited no magic in his heart. Not to mention being married to his publisher was like having his own personal slave driver at times.
Gina had never understood his writing process, she had never cared to as long as he delivered his work on a deadline, but if he fell even a day behind she began lurking in the doorway of his office, pressuring him with expectant glares and subtle quips of impatience that only made him wish to abandon his laptop completely.
Castle placed his phone face down on the nightstand, changed into a clean t-shirt, and crawled under the wonderfully soft sheets. He should have dropped into sleep right then, as soon as his head hit the perfectly fluffed pillows, but his mind was running wild with thoughts of divorce now, thoughts of Alexis and how she would feel to have a father with two failed marriages under his belt.
Perhaps, not everyone was meant to find someone and live happily ever after for more than a few months. He feared that he was one of the unfortunate.
Kate frowned as she watched Richard Castle restlessly toss and turn in the dark before finally lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He had looked miserable after his conversation with Gina and although sympathy was not allowed, she felt it flaring strong for him.
Only an hour before he had arrived, Kate had conned her way into his room, convincing an older maid making rounds that she had been locked out of Castle's suite by accident. The woman had fallen for the simple lie with ease, letting Kate into his room with an understanding smile. It had taken her fifteen minutes to install the cameras - one in the decorative arrangement of flowers in the living area, the other inside the lamp on the nightstand - and set up the bug that would feed her the audio just in case the cameras were ever compromised.
She hated this part of the job, the outrageous invasion of privacy that made her feel despicable, but there was a perverse part of her that had been intrigued this time. Now though, watching him lie awake despite the obvious exhaustion that came through even on the screen of her laptop, she had the strange urge to comfort him, to warn him.
She slammed the laptop closed with too much force, tucked it under the pillow on the opposite side of the king sized bed and turned off the bedside lamp.
She copied the position she had just witnessed him take on, lying flat on her back, staring at the decorative ceiling in the darkness. This was getting ridiculous.
She didn't know him and she definitely didn't care about him.
Just another job, that's all Richard Castle would ever be. Maybe if she repeated it enough, she would actually believe it.