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“At that pizza place. For hours. Watching this door, waiting for an opportunity to talk to you.”
“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until the next time we meet?”
“Will there be a next time?” He straightened up and turned to face her.
She gave a small bob of her head.
“You, uh—”
“Yes. Day before yesterday.”
“Oh.”
He just stood there.
She examined her keys.
Forever.
Then he said, “You must’ve been disappointed.”
“Of course I was. We were. Foster and I.” Drawing a quick breath, she said, “So, you and I must meet again.” Having avoided looking at him except peripherally, she tilted her head back and looked directly into the opaque lenses of his sunglasses. “Unless you resign.”
“We’ve been over that.”
“Then what’s so important that you came here?”
“I came to warn you.”
She had expected a demand for more advance money. Maybe even an apology for what he’d said to her before he left last time. But a warning? “Warn me about what?”
“A couple weeks ago. When we were together. You saw the bruises on my face?”
“And your hip.”
He tilted his head, and she knew that if she could see into his eyes they would be looking at her curiously. There was only one way she would have known about the bruises on his butt, and she’d given herself away. But to try to maneuver herself out of the blunder would only make it more awkward.
“What about the bruises?” she asked impatiently.
“I wish I could say the other guys looked worse.”
“Guys? More than one?”
“Two. I was jumped in a restaurant parking lot and beaten up. A few weeks before that, a friend of mine got it even worse.” His lips formed a hard, thin line. “Much worse. And hasn’t recovered yet.”
Laura couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you into?”
“Nothing!”
“You and your friend got beaten up over nothing?”
“Listen to me,” he said, bending nearer, talking quickly and softly. “It goes back to five years ago, but it has nothing to do with me now. Except that there’s this asshole who’s made it his life’s mission to ruin my life. His name is Stanley Rodarte. He drives an ugly, olive green car. If you see him, stay out of his way. Under no circumstances let him get near you while you’re alone. Are you hearing me?”
“I’m rarely alone.”
“You were just now. Look how easy it was for me to get close to you.” As though to emphasize that, he looked down at the space between them, which was less than a foot.
“I appreciate the warning,” Laura said, distancing herself, and more than just physically. “But your extracurricular activities have nothing to do with Foster and me. This Stanley whatever poses no threat to us.”
