Solace and Sage had spent the last three hours stalking Harrison Davis, the senator's mortal and self-labeled enemy. Unfortunately, peering through binoculars, tailing the man, and taking hundreds of photos wasn't as fun as the movies made it seem.

Sage was unable to find anything remotely scandalous after accessing Davis's accounts and phone. He donated money to cancer research, volunteered in hurricane relief, and adopted dogs from the shelter. The man was either a saint, or he was a professional at hiding his dirty little secrets. With the track record of politicians, it had to be the latter.

The only way they would find any possible evidence of Harrison's dishonorable activities was by shadowing him. It started with Solace and Sage waiting outside of his office. Those ninety minutes were spent arguing about who would get to use the zoom camera and who was in charge of the music.

They were on the move when Davis stepped out of the building in his navy suit. It hugged his gigantic muscles and broad shoulders snuggly. While Moore looked like a sickly prat who would float away with some light wind, Harrison could easily be a spokesperson from Men's Weekly. Solace didn't know what he was doing in politics when he could simply transition into modeling or acting. It was surprising when he lost the election, because she would have voted for him on looks alone. His policies, however, were conservative and it didn't help his image that he had a child born out of wedlock. Older eligible voters were suckers for the nice American family.

Solace watched as Davis got into his car. She clapped her hands frantically. "Get a move on," she ordered Sage.

"I'm going," he snapped as he started up the engine with a click to the start button and followed them.

"You should just let me drive," she said casually.

Sage scoffed, easing off the gas when they got too close to the car. They couldn't have them think they were being followed. "Never going to happen."

She threw him a nasty look and sulked into the leather seats. Sage had kept a very important detail from her. He had a car. A sleek black car with leather seats, butt warmers, and a touch screen that must have cost at least three years of tuition. The money he earned from his employment had some use. Where was he hiding it before?

"You made us bus home twice when you had a car the entire time?" she demanded annoyedly. "Not to mention, you could have been a decent person and dropped me off at my internship and Harvard." The least he could do was save her from the horrors of pneumonia and wet socks.

Sage shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I was only trying to strengthen your immune system and allow you to get your steps in. I was looking out for you and your health," he remarked arrogantly.

"I'm genuinely curious, Sage," she started, her voice light enough to catch his gaze. "Were you dropped on your head as a child, or were you born this stupid? Like what is floating in that skull of yours because it sure isn't a fully functioning brain?"

He grinned wryly. "You know I've also been thinking. If I knock on your head, will it be hollow?"

Solace's nostrils flared, and her fists clenched. Being trapped in a moving vehicle for several hours with the boy that got on her nerves wasn't doing anything for her homicidal tendencies. Even Sage was ready to throw her out of his car.

Thankfully there was no need to toss each other out like rag dolls when Harrison's car turned into a parking lot, and to Solace's dismay, it was a gym. Of course that two hundred pound boulder had to maintain his physique somehow. And now, they had to wait in the car as he pumped iron and kissed his biceps in the mirror.

But to her surprise, Sage exited the car and started to follow Davis inside the state-of-the-art gym. She quickly trailed him, salt crystals crunching underneath her shoes. "Why aren't we staying in the car?" she demanded quietly.

He tucked the camera safely under his hoodie. "What if he's flirting with the hot yoga instructor and slips away for some tomfoolery? We have to be ready."

She shrugged. Good point. The two entered the building just in time for Harrison to tap his card and walk into the changing rooms. Advertisements of protein shakes, and personal trainers were taped to the wall, and a life-sized cut out of some random muscular man sat in the corner. Lights and plants hung from the ceiling to give it a more aesthetic look. A woman in a cute matching set with abs so toned, Solace would injure her hand if she tried to punch her gut, met them with a perky smile. Dread filled her when she realized they would have to buy a membership to get in. A place like this was surely expensive.

And it was. Sage bought a thirty-dollar day pass for the two of them after the lovely Delilah tried to shove a two-year contract down their throats. These gym rats were insatiable. They were like telemarketers, but so much worse.

It didn't help that they stuck out like sore thumbs as they slowly walked on the treadmill, their eyes constantly on Harrison, who so far hadn't done anything promiscuous. Solace wore baggy jeans and a green jumper with sneakers. It was a sunny day in Boston, so she had switched out her puffy coat for a zip-up. It wasn't any better for Sage with his loose khaki pants and hoodie. They got so many funky looks, she was starting to lose track.

"You two aren't dressed appropriately for the gym," pointed out an old white man in tiny shorts. He lifted his chin haughtily, giving her a full unwanted view of his nose hairs.

Solace smiled politely. "We like to exercise in streetwear to prepare for real life."

"We find that jeans are much better sweat absorbers than that measly polyester," remarked Sage with a fake grin. She stifled a laugh, and his lips only tugged further up at the sound.

The man frowned as if he was unsure they were pulling his leg or if they really were idiots. He didn't bother with a reply as he stalked off to the steam room. The entire gym itself was one big luxurious middle finger to the face with the high-end equipment, indoor squash tennis court, and an Olympic size swimming pool.

"Honeycomb is on the move," whispered Sage, earning an eye roll at Harrison's code name. They swiftly turned off the treadmill and inconspicuously followed.

"Do you think he's finally done working out?" she asked as her eyes trailed him and his sweaty tank-top clad body. Her question was answered when Davis moved to the elliptical. It was now time for him to get his cardio in after spending almost an hour of lifting dumbbells, bench-pressing, and deadlifting. "No person should exercise this much."

"How about you stop complaining?" suggested Sage as he slipped off his hoodie and took a seat on the lat pulldown machine.

Solace made herself as comfortable as possible on the shoulder press machine. "I am not complaining. I am simply providing some entertaining commentary to pass the time."

His face morphed into a scowl as he pulled on the lever. "I should have done this by myself," he grumbled underneath his breath.

Her eyes watched as his muscles strained and swelled as he pulled down on the weight. His back was looking real nice. Solace mentally slapped herself and turned away. "But you're useless without me," she sang. He needed her. Without her, the plan was at an impasse. There would be no painting if it wasn't for her. He would have a harder time accessing Moore. She was at the center of it all.

Solace wasn't going to lie. In the beginning, she was dead set on letting Sage figure it out on his own. But now, she found herself fake dating him, sneaking into senator's offices, crawling through vents, and stalking politicians. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in while. He kept things interesting.

"There's a lot of heavy equipment in this room. Do you think it would look like an accident if one just happened to slip and fall onto your head?" Sage wondered innocently, his voice a little out of breath from the lifting.

Ignore, ignore, ignore. She channeled her frustration and tinkered with the weights until it was at thirty pounds. If she was here, might as well strengthen her arms. Solace wiped her hands on her jeans and curled them around the handle and lifted them. She almost wheezed at how heavy it was. Thirty is too much. Way too much. Let's start off small. It's always a good idea to build up to the heavy stuff. After she soothed her ego, she moved the weight to a nice ten pounds. Now that she could lift.

Thirty minutes later of some more lifting with terrible form on Solace's end and almost biting each other's heads off, they tracked Harrison out to his car. His hair was glistening, so he must have taken a shower.

"Can I drive now?" Solace sulked when the car came into view. She was sick of sitting in the passenger seat as he had all the fun.

"No."

She smirked, running to the driver's side. Solace dangled the keys tauntingly. "I'm driving," she stated arrogantly. Sage's eyes widened as he patted the pocket on his hoodie. "I swiped it when you took it off."

"Give me the keys, Solace," he commanded with an outstretched hand.

"Not happening," she fired back with a satisfied grin. "We can keep arguing and let Honeycomb get away, or we can argue as I drive." To make her point, she jutted her chin to their target's car who was beginning to pull out.

Sage ran both hands through his hair. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

Happily, Solace stepped in the driver's seat with a miserable Sage slipping in beside her. She stepped on the gas, and it moved so delicately, it was like riding a magic carpet through the Arabian winds. The leather wheel felt soft and cool under her touch.

"I don't understand why you're so worried about me driving. Sure, if you ignore the fact I haven't driven in months, my habit of hitting curbs, and my terrible parallel parking skills, I'm a fantastic driver," Solace explained thoughtfully. "Full disclosure, I failed my road test three times."

The menacing glare coming from Sage was enough to shrivel up her heart.

"I'm just being honest," she said with a weak laugh as she raced past a yellow light to prevent losing their mark. She recalled crying when she had failed her tests. Solace Laurent never failed. And when she did, it hit her hard like a semi-truck. It was a bit self-destructive if she was being honest.

After fifteen more minutes of driving, Harrison Davis pulled up in front of a restaurant. She turned right, driving over the curb as Solace and Sage jolted in their seats. She glanced over at him momentarily as she parked the car a few feet away. "That was totally an accident," she said truthfully.

Sage sighed, planting his face into his hands, and shaking it. "How do you accidentally hit the curb five times?" he demanded.

She awkwardly smiled. "Honeycombs driver took a lot of right turns, okay. That's on them."

"You make me want to slam my head into a door."

"Can I help?"

Sage muttered incomprehensible things. A few of them were in Spanish, and Solace would bet her right arm they weren't kind. Instead of mulling on what he might be saying, she moved her attention to Davis's car, waiting for him to get out. But this time around, it was his driver in a black suit and cap. She watched as he ran into the restaurant and immediately, he was jogging back with a brown paper bag filled with takeout.

Just like that, they were on the move again.

"You're losing them. Hurry up!" rushed Sage, bringing his hands to her ear, and clapping loudly.

She slapped them away with pursed lips and pressed down on the gas. He was right. There were too many cars between them and Davis. Solace roughly switched lanes, weaving in and out so dangerously, a cop would slap her with a ticket if they saw her. A car behind her honked when she cut it off.

Sage swiveled around in his seat and yelled, "Don't honk at us, dumbass!"

Solace snorted, relieved that they had a view of Harrison's car now. She wondered where he was going. Back to the office? A meeting, possibly? Whatever it was, she just hoped it was something sleazy or corrupt, so they could finally catch him in the act. And her wish seemed to be coming true when the car turned into the Oxford Hotel, a fancy establishment known for housing celebrities and high-profile individuals.

She met Sage's gaze, both smirking as they said in unison, "Mistress."

There was an excited spark as they anticipated catching Davis in a slanderous position. She could basically feel the infidelity that was to come. Solace circled the car around a glorious fountain with water spurting out of intricately carved fish and parked by the limited space by the bushes.

"Pretend like you belong here," advised Sage through the side of his mouth as they left the car and were greeted with bellmen and valet employees. "It's all about confidence."

That was going to be hard to do with how inexpensive and undressed they looked. But nonetheless, she flipped her braids back, straightened her shoulders, and raised her chin. Sage had no problem as he sauntered through the glass doors with an aura of poise. A bellman in a navy uniform smiled kindly, but they flew past him. The guilt was pushed away, and she turned on her rich alter ego. Solace had plenty of exposure from being surrounded by the upper class and her days of watching television so she could pull from one of her favourite characters, Ashley Banks.

The inside was just as extravagant with its high chandeliers made of diamonds, golden statues that glittered in the light, and marbles floors that looked so clean, you could eat off them. All the employees were smiling, and she wondered if their cheeks hurt. It was almost unsettling at how many white teeth she was seeing. It was like a scene from a cult classic.

"Do you see him?" she asked as she scanned the lobby. All she saw were men dripped in lavish clothes and women wearing jewels the size of Sage's forehead. Wait, is that Viola Davis? Before she could run over there and ramble about how much Solace loved her and her work, Sage grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the emerald couches, pushing her down by her shoulders.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back," Sage said with a pointed look. She thought about fighting him on it, but she decided to swallow her argument and lean back into the plush seats.

She observed as he lowered his cap and stalked over to Davis, who was headed to the elevators. If she wasn't watching keenly, she wouldn't have seen how gracefully Sage's hand swiped a set of keys from his pockets. Pickpocketing never looked so easy. Solace sat forward in her seat awaiting as he turned back around and tapped Harrison on his shoulder. She couldn't hear what Sage was saying, but by the smile on his face, he was charming the pants off the politician as he returned the key.

With a pat on his arm from Davis, Sage started walking back towards her, tilting his head for her to come. Solace swiftly made her way to his side. "He's in room 1109," he said in a hushed tone.

She glanced back over her shoulder as their target stepped into the elevator, a noticeable smirk on his lips. That was the kind of smirk from a man who knew he was getting some. "Why aren't we following him then?"

"We can't enter his room, and it's useless for us to be waiting outside his door. We're going to ask the concierge what building faces the room and observe him from there."

Solace hummed in agreement as they made their way to the front lobby. A man with a French mustache and swirly hair addressed them.

"Welcome to the Oxford Hotel. How may I help you?"

A small humph left her lips when Sage threw his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. Not the dating bit, again. Solace ignored her disinclination and snaked her hand around his waist, leaning her head against his chest in a way she hoped look lovingly.

"My girlfriend and I were hoping to get a room," started Sage with a fleeting smile in her direction. She found herself smiling back. "But she's critical about the floor and view."

Solace nodded earnestly. "My horoscope told me eleven is my lucky number. At first, I thought it was absolute malarkey," she explained, throwing in a sniveling laugh.

"Poppycock," added Sage with his own rich chuckle.

"Hokum," she chimed in as the two giggled. The smile on the concierge was beginning to break with the number of synonyms. "But when I went shopping at Blooms today, I bought eleven pairs of red bottoms. When I walked out of the store, I got a phone call from my real estate agent that my request to destroy sacred land and cut all the trees to build my summer home had been approved. It had taken months because the pesky islanders kept fighting back. Like I understand I'm taking away your homes and rights, but come on," sighed Solace with so much fake disdain, it surprised her.

"Oh, Sweetums, let's not bore the man with fine details," Sage interjected as he swallowed the laughter that was threatening to come up. "Do you have any rooms on the eleventh floor?"

The concierge, Henry, smiled tightly. "Right away, sir." He clicked and typed away on the computer. Solace and Sage leered at him with large grins and wide eyes. They looked like creepy dolls. The man cleared his throat. "We have room 1101 available."

"How about 1108? Or 1110?" questioned Sage.

Henry frowned at the specific room numbers, but typed away, nonetheless. "We have 1107."

Sage glanced down at her, and she shrugged. That was good enough for her. "And the view? What direction is the room facing?" Solace demanded.

The concierge furrowed his thin brows. "East, I believe. It's facing the Lighthouse apartment complex."

Just like that, Sage grabbed Solace's hand, and they were running down the lobby, leaving Henry gaping behind his desk. They rushed to the sidewalk, moving east to the Lighthouse and up the cobblestone pathway. To their luck, a family was exiting the building, allowing the two to quickly slide inside. The elevator didn't take too long, and immediately, Sage pressed the button to the last floor being the twelfth.

"Let's hope their blinds are open," murmured Sage as he took out the camera. "If not, I'm hacking into the Oxford, finding out his next reservation date, booking a room next door, and jumping onto his balcony."

Yup, the crazed look in his eyes is back.

The doors opened with a ding, and at the end of the hall was the door to the roof. Another set of stairs finally led them to the top. She squinted her eyes as the bright sun blinded them. Thick layers of snow draped the ground. Her heart clamored, and her hands became sweaty. Five hours of their day had been poured down the drain. She hoped it was worth it, and they would finally catch Davis in the act.

"Let him be a cheater! Let him be a cheater!" chanted Solace, aspiring for her words to manifest. She had never wished for adultery until now.

Sage chuckled as he sank down to his knees at the edge of the roof. She copied him, the Oxford Hotel, and hopefully a faithless politician coming into view. Beside her, the camera clicked as he looked through the lens. She heard him count softly under his breath.

"Anything?" she asked.