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As he made his way to the elevator, he kept his stride and carriage deceptively casual, but inside his head, it wasMardi Gras, baby!and he was grand marshal of the parade.
It was a long ride down from the top floor of the steel and glass Dallas skyscraper to the subterranean parking garage, but Calder’s blood was still fizzing with self-congratulations as he stepped off the elevator and gave himself a fist pump. His whoop echoed through the near-empty concrete cavern.
As prearranged, his Jaguar had been left in a first-row, VIP parking slot. For three months and change, he’d been tooling around in a rental car and was ever so glad to have his sleek sports model back.
He kissed his fingertips, then tapped them against the roof of the car. “Hello, sweetheart. Miss me?” He shrugged out of his coat and set it and his briefcase in the passenger seat, then started the motor, thrilling to the aggressive growl he’d sorely missed.
He backed out, and, as he took the sharp curves on his climb up the parking levels to the exit, his tires screeched menacingly. “Badass at the wheel,” he whispered through a smug grin as he shot out of the garage and onto the city street.
It was after business hours; rush-hour traffic had abated. But no other motorist would have dared to get in his way. Not today. He blew through yellow lights at several downtown intersections before taking a ramp onto the freeway.
He slid on his sunglasses against the blood orange–red streaks painted across the sky by the setting sun, then accessed his phone from the steering wheel.
Shauna answered on the second ring and said, “Helloooo there, handsome.”
“Helloooo, beautiful.”
“How’d it go?”
“Well, can’t say the same for some, butIhad a great day.”
“I can hear it in your voice. It’s oozing conceit.”
“I’m trying my best to suppress it, but, you know…”
“Yes, I do know. I’ve heard it before, and it’s insufferable.”
He grinned. “You suffer it, though, don’t you?”
“Don’t be smug. Where are you?”
“Headed home. What about you?”
“Home? You’re supposed to be on your way here.”
Calder’s elation dimmed several watts as he now remembered that Shauna had to work this evening. Damned if he could remember what she had scheduled. “You’re still at the studio?”
“No, on location at the fair. I’m killing time in the van while the crew sets up for the interview.” She huffed with exasperation. “You forgot, didn’t you? Honestly, Calder. You said you’d come.”
A fair. Right. “I said I would think about it.” He hadn’t had to think about it. He’d known when he’d told her he would that he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to any county fair. “How long will you be?”
“I’m doing the interview an hour before the concert starts. I want to capture some of his backstage energy before his performance. I don’t have to stay for the entire thing, but I’ll be here for a while yet.”
None of what she’d said sat well with him. “I just completed my biggest contract. I’m over a hundred grand richer, and the bigwigs were practically kissing me over the privilege of paying me. I’m ready to get the party started.”
“We’ll party. It’ll just start a few hours later.”
A fewhours?
She was saying, “… because at the last minute, the producer squeezed the interview into tonight’s ten o’clock newscast.”
“Who’s that important? Is the president in town?”
“Better. Bryce Conrad.”
“Who’s that?”
“Only the brightest rising star in country music,” she said, not even trying to conceal her excitement.
