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“I was hoping you could give me your friend’s number again since I lost the card.”
Yeah, I feel one side of my mouth twitch up. “Lost?”
“Shut up.”
Of all things…I laugh. “Sure, Hollie. I can get you Ben’s number. Matter of fact, I came prepared.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I was hoping a week was long enough to bring you to your senses.” Huh. I can’t help myself, can I? No wonder my agents dodge actual conversations with me. “Sorry. What I meant was—”
She waves me off. “You’re right to give me a hard time. It was dumb of me to refuse your help. I’m not exactly in a position to be proud.”
Her words pick at the edges around my…heart? Doggone, I guess I’ve still got one of those. The thing is, she shouldn’t be down on herself. She’s a single mom doing her dead-level best to raise a kid who’s not doing himself any favors.
“Say, would you like to grab something to eat, and we can talk about things? I can tell you about Ben and what to expect.” Right. What can I tell her except that Ben is the best and that he’ll be able to help? I’m no attorney.
Her hesitation grinds the snippet of conversation to a halt. I get it. I’ve been generally rude since day one, and the wide circles and extra-large personal space buffers she keeps highlight a cautious nature.
People’s fear of me has been a useful tool over the years. Comes in handy as the boss of a bunch a yahoos.
Perps and yahoo agents are not beautiful women.
She glances to the door she exited. “I guess we could go back inside.”
“Nope. Sorry. Charlie’s pancakes are like rubber.”
A tiny flicker of humor makes its way into her eyes, eyes that make me clamor for her to say yes.
“You sure eat enough of them.”
“Watch it…” I trail off the jesting threat.
Is that a smile?
“How ’bout that all-night pancake house out by the freeway?”
“Okay.”
“Great.” I step off the curb. “Meet you there?”
“Okay—oh. Wait. Jacob has my car.”
I pull my key out of my pocket and hit the button to unlock. “No problem. Ride with me.” It’s my lucky night.
Wait.
I turn, planting my loafer on one of those concrete parking berms. “How were you planning on getting home?”
She shrugs. “It’s only a few blocks to my house.”
“You were going towalk?”
Unease in her eyes speaks beyond the careless lift of her shoulders. “It’s only Chandor.”
“Doesn’t matter. All it takes is one…”, I do a quick search for a G-rated word, “loser—and you’ve got trouble.” My innards vibrate like I got hit by the same taser shot as that dealer I chased down. I might’ve outrun the young sheriff’s deputy, but the kid’s taser caught the creep first, allowing me to be the tackling hero in the whole cabal.
Folding her arms, Hollie looks away. Her creamy skin has lightened to an unnatural shade. “I do what I have to, John.”
