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“Crap,” she muttered as she hit accept. “Hello, Oliver.”
“Oh, my God, Bren, you are a lifesaver. I can’t believe I left that. I am such an idiot.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s fine. Like I said, I’ll leave it in the mailbox so you can get it on your way into the office tomorrow. Or I can put it there right now if you need it tonight.”
He moaned. “Shit. I’m so fucked.” He sounded sincerely distraught.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What’s wrong?”
You’re a damn pushover.
“I do need it tonight. It needs to be dropped off to a VIP client, but I’m in Tallahassee for work until tomorrow. I was supposed to drop it off before I left town. I am so screwed.”
Brenna bit off another grumble. She was way too nice. “Look,” she said with a sigh and roll of her eyes. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. I’ll drop it off if you tell me where to take it.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We might have broken up, but we don’t have to go out of our way to be nasty to each other. I can do you one favor.”
“Bren, you’re an angel.”
She squeezed harder, but it did nothing to ward off the incoming headache. “It’s no big deal.”
“No. Seriously, sweetheart, what would I do without you?”
The pet name had her frowning at the phone. “Oliver, you don’t have m—”
“Maybe when I get home, I can take you to dinner as a thank you.” His voice dropped to the husky timbre she’d once loved but hadn’t responded to in ages. Too long to have stayed together for as much time as they did.
A date? Was he crazy? “That’s not necessary, Oliver. I’m happy to help you out this one time. Just text me the address, and I’ll drop it off right now.” She disconnected the call before he had time to insist on dinner.
“Guess you will have to wait,” she said to her beer bottle as she stood.
By the time she ran upstairs and slipped out of her work clothes and into her standard cutoff shorts and graphic T-shirt, she had a text with an address waiting for her. He’d also added a line about how beautiful he found her and a second offer of dinner or drinks.
“Not responding,” she muttered as she grabbed her purse and the envelope.
Despite living in the area her entire life, the street wasn’t one she recognized, but it only took about fifteen minutes to drive to and find the address with the help of GPS.
Frowning, she steered through the parking lot entrance, a wide gap in a ten-foot-high chain link fence adorned with barbed wire. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, taking in her dismal surroundings.
The place was nothing more than an abandoned warehouse with graffiti all over the exterior walls, a stack of tires, and a fifty-five-gallon drum beside a dented metal door. She’d rather die than peek inside the drum. If television had taught her anything, someone bigger than her could fit inside along with a vat of acid.
She shivered as she navigated a maze of deep potholes, not eager to take out her tires and screw with her car’s alignment.
“There’s no way this is right. There isn’t even a place to leave this.” As an estate lawyer, Oliver’s day-to-day didn’t lend to meetings with nefarious clients, but that was the vibe this place gave off. She felt like a character in a suspense thriller waiting on a CIA handler or mafia boss.
No more TV for me.
The faster she got out of the car, the faster she could finish this chore and return home to her beer.
And her blessedly empty house.
She grabbed the package before exiting the car. When her sandals hit the cracked pavement, a chill ran up her spine. The air, thick and hot as always in a Florida summer, felt still and stagnant. No sounds greeted her ears—no birds chirping, frogs croaking, or bugs humming. It seemed the local creatures knew this place was dead and stayed as far away as possible.
“Thanks, Oliver,” she muttered as she walked toward the building. She watched every step to avoid breaking an ankle in a pothole. “Hello?” she called as she strode toward the door. “Anyone here? I have a package from Oliver. Uh, Oliver Swanson, your attorney.”
The lack of response infuriated her. Was she really going to have to call him back and get a new address so she could waste more of her evening doing favors for her ex-fiancé?
