Page 145 of No Headlines Please

"Soon enough?" I scoffed. "You mean months after we met? Call me crazy, but I don't think that's soon at all."

He froze. "Months?"

"Yes. From summer to fall. That's three months at least. So there I am in my cabin, and Walt starts hollering his head off that I've got to see something on his TV, so I rush over there, and who do you think I saw?"

Maddox just looked at me, frowning like I'd completely lost him.

I took a single step forward. "What I saw was you – the guy I'd met months ago. And what do I learn? That everyone in the whole world knows your full name but me." I shook my head. "Which is really weird considering that apparently you had a picture of me on your phone."

He stared like I'd just announced my name was Cal Smith.

But now I was on a roll. "And you were flashing that same photo around Tessa's building before the two of us ever met." I threw up my hands. "Why do you think I flipped out?"

He opened his mouth, but then closed it again, like he wasn't quite sure what to say.

Or maybe he was about to call security.

But they weren't dragging me out yet, so I kept on talking. "So, yeah, the more I think about it, the more I think you owe me not only an apology, but an explanation, too."

I finished with a low mutter. "Damn it."

56

Exhibit A

Maddox

Holy fuck. I replayed our last conversation in my head.

Hounding.

Following.

Stalking.

She'd threatened to call the authorities. At the time, she'd sounded unhinged. But with what I'd just learned, could I actually blame her?

Hell no.

Turns out, she'd been trying to make sense of a stranger flashing around her picture and handing out a business card that didn't match the name I'd given her.

No wonder she'd gone ballistic.

She was right. I owed her an explanation – and one hell of an apology, too.

But for a long moment, I simply drank in the sight of her.

Her eyes were as green as I remembered, made even brighter by the forest-green button-down she wore untucked over fitted black slacks.

When she tilted her head, her small emerald earrings caught the afternoon light, drawing my attention back to her face. If she was wearing makeup, I couldn't even tell. It didn't matter. She didn't need it.

Delaney was beautiful – not in the carefully curated way I'd spent years surrounded by, but in a way that was impossible to fake.

I'd been an ass. I hadn't meant to be. But now, looking at it from her side, I realized just how thoughtless I'd been.

I wasn't good at saying I was sorry. But I wasn't above it either – not when an apology was truly deserved.

I had no intention of putting it off. And yet, as I circled my desk to close the distance between us, what came out of my mouth was, "But what about the woman in the elevator?"