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CHAPTERTEN
Beckett
The girl moved briskly through the grocery store—I lost track of her here and there in the aisles from my vantage point outside the large front windows. She wasn’t particularly noticeable anyway—a typical college student with straight blond hair that hung down her back and a slim frame. Pretty, sure, but not startlingly so.
The only reason I’d noticed her in the club last night was the company she’d been keeping. Those three guys had been poking their noses into a lot of places they really didn’t belong. I wasn’t sure what their end game was. Often a girlfriend was the weakest link, the easiest way to get my questions answered without my actual targets having a clue.
I tapped absently at my phone, pretending I was actually texting someone on it and just casually glancing up while I waited for responses. The girl grabbed a couple of sodas off a shelf and vanished from view again. None of her purchases had been remarkable either.
I wasn’t going to learn much from watching. I needed to make an approach—one that would ensure a longer interaction, endear me to her, and offer the opportunity to earn some trust upfront. How I handled it would depend on where she went next.
My phone vibrated faintly with an actual incoming text. I diverted my attention briefly to check its contents.
It was from Lana, the woman who handled a lot of the day-to-day administrative work for my family’s business.There was a bit of a squabble with a group in Atlanta over their tariff. How do you want to handle it?
I bit back a sigh. There were always minor players trying to buck the system. It never worked out well for them.
Email me the details, I wrote back.And let them know they have until tomorrow to make things right, or we’ll right things for them.
Understood.
Technically, she should have been asking my dad. Because technically, Dad was still in charge of our family’s empire. But Lana knew as well as I did that she’d get a faster answer—and a better one—from me these days.
That was why I had to be especially wary of random upstarts interfering with any of our business ventures.
When I glanced up again, the blond girl was at the checkout counter. She slung her two bags over her arms and headed for the door. I eased off to the side, examining my phone again but tracking her from the corner of my eye.
She considered the street and walked with a peppy stride toward the coffee shop on the corner. A perfect opportunity. I started meandering after her, much more slowly, pausing for more pretend text-tapping once she’d darted inside.
Through the slightly grimy window of the mom-and-pop place a lot of the college students favored, I followed her progress from cash register to order pick-up counter, where she grabbed a predictable iced latte, and then on toward the door again. That was my cue.
I tugged at my shirt sleeves instinctively, my fingers brushing the simple but elegant cufflinks that’d been a fourteenth birthday gift from Dad. Back when he’d paid more attention to matters of business, he’d instilled in me the belief that you should look as well put-together as you kept your affairs. That was what made people respect you before they even knew you. Not that my clothes were going to matter that much in a few seconds anyway, but I’d make the most of them all the same.
I ambled onward, angling myself so I’d pass within a foot of the coffee shop doorway. I stepped in front if it just as the girl hustled outside, juggling her bags of groceries and the cup of iced coffee that was filled to the brim.
She gave a little yelp as our arms collided. I twisted as if to try to get out of the way, but managed to ensure that some of her coffee spurted out of the lid to splash across my button-up. Then I jerked backward as if startled, staring down at the light brown blotch spreading across the ivory fabric.
“Oh, crap, crap, crap,” the girl muttered, shoving herself out of the way of the entrance and setting her coffee on a nearby bench. Her voice was lower than I’d expected, serious and a little husky—not the high-pitched cheerleader squeal I’d imagined. “I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head with a bemused chuckle and grabbed a tissue from my pocket to dab at the stain. “Damn. Well, it’s just a shirt. And it’s my fault too. I should have been watching where I was going.” I shot her a smile, just a little bit of teeth, warm but not overdoing it. “I should apologize to you for stealing some of your coffee.”
She blinked at me and then seemed to struggle to hold back a laugh. She failed, a soft guffaw spilling out. “Don’t be silly. I’m the one who ruinedyourshirt. I can—I’ll give you some money to cover the cleaning costs.”
I waved her off, still smiling. “Really, don’t worry about it. I’ll be able to get it out in the wash.” The lie slipped effortlessly from my lips. Even dry cleaning might not remove the stain; the shirt was probably a loss. But it was a minor sacrifice. “Don’t worry, I’m not one of those guys who doesn’t have a clue how to do his own laundry.”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to imply that.” She bit her lip, and it occurred to me that close up she was more appealing than I’d first given her credit for. Or maybe that was less about the details of her face and more the fact that she obviously wasn’t at all ditzy. Her concern felt totally genuine. “I still feel bad. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to make up for it?”
And so generous with that opening. I let my smile stretch a little wider and tipped my head toward her bags. “Clearly the problem is that you’re carrying too much. How about you let me help you with your bags so I can ensure no one else’s shirt meets the same fate mine did?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly—she was smart enough to be wary of a random stranger offering to carry her things. But I’d phrased it in such a way that it didn’t sound like too much of a come-on, and it wasn’t as if her snacks were all that valuable. And I could tell she was a little intrigued by me.
“That sounds likeyou’dbe doingmea favor,” she said, shifting her weight.
I shrugged. “I’d see it more as a favor to humanity in general. I’m guessing you’re heading to the college campus? I have to walk that way anyway to get back to my car. You might as well be able to enjoy the rest of your coffee without having to do a juggling act.”
Her eyebrow arched a smidge, but she handed over one of the bags. She paused for a moment afterward as if confirming I wasn’t going to run off with it or something, but it must have been obvious this would have been a very strange scam. If that were the scam I was running.
“I am going back to campus,” she said as we moved to cross the street. “Is it that obvious?”
