Until We Say Goodbye

by Jane Drager

  His eyes widened. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  “Pearl-white, a luxury model. Whoever he is has been hanging around the studio.”

  Frowning, he ran a hand through his crew cut. “Mr. Lambert mentioned a black sedan with tinted windows, which I’ve seen twice already, but no white SUV.” Grabbing a pen, he wrote a quick note on a pad. “I’ll tell him what you said. Oh, and, miss, rest assured. Drummer won’t step foot past this lobby.”

  Those words were wonderful to hear. She released a long breath and smiled. “Thank you, Robert. Too bad the cops can’t lock him away for being ugly.” With a wave, she headed for the elevator.

  After arriving at her floor, she let herself into the condo. At least here with all the cameras and security, she felt safe, away from the weirdos, but hell, the list grew every day. Rafael wanted the backpack, even offered her money, and then ultimately, attempted to steal it. His purpose was clear and no longer a threat. Eric wanted her, and his intention was also clear. The guys in the black sedan abducted Rafael, and the poor guy wound up dead. Now, the sedan tailed Eric. Where did the white SUV fit in? What the hell is everyone’s obsession with me?

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Lauren tossed her backpack and jacket onto a kitchen counter chair before heading to the bathroom to freshen her face. The water wasn’t cold enough, not like country water—clear, fresh, and invigorating. After returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and took a long swig.

  Her gaze drifted to the backpack. Jan had carried the bag everywhere before they switched, but Jan made sure she’d emptied the contents. Even Detective Baylor inspected her supplies and then shook the bag. So, what interested Rafael? And since the black sedan returned to the picture, was Eric interested in the pack, too? But that would mean Eric and Rafael knew each other.

  Nothing made sense.

  The condo phone rang, jarring her thoughts. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Lambert is here, Miss Howell. Shall I send him up?”

  Her heart flipped. He’s home! “By all means.” Did Robert have to ask?

  She didn’t know what to do first. Fix her hair? Brush her teeth? Start dinner?

  Restraint, that’s what I need. But as soon as she opened the door, she flew into Deems’ arms with a happy shriek. Not willing to draw attention from the neighbor across the hall, she grabbed his arm and hurried him inside, shut the door, and then pushed him into the living room.

  With a wide smile, Deems dangled his tie between two fingers. “I feel undressed.”

  Knocking the tie from his hand, she pushed him onto the sofa and held him down with her body while showering kisses all over his face. Her heart was ready to burst at the sight of him. So much for restraint.

  “Wow.” Gaze sparkling, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. “This welcome-home is the best I’ve ever received.” With a whirlwind of a maneuver, he reversed their positions and pinned her to the sofa cushions.

  His lips captured hers with full force, deep and probing, causing a groan to escape from her throat. He tasted so good.

  His mouth slid to her forehead. “I’ve missed you, Lauren, and you know what?” He lifted his head to meet her gaze. “I never imagined I’d say those words to a woman.” He kissed her nose. “Have you eaten?”

  Eat? What, food? She gazed into a pair of tender, brown eyes. “I haven’t decided what to cook.”

  “Then, let’s go out. We’re wasting a beautiful evening. We’ll do a little window shopping and maybe try this new Italian restaurant on Park Avenue.”

  She’d rather stay wrapped in his arms and to hell with food. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t push him out of her mind. He’d become more than a friend in so short a time, and because of him, she’d treasure her memories of New York forever. Her fingers slipped into his hair. “We could stay in.”

  “Sure, but you’re the one who made me appreciate the beautiful outdoors.”

  Manhattan’s outdoors was no comparison to the country, but she let the comment pass. “I still don’t have anything other than blue jeans to wear. You’re not taking me to a fancy place, right?”

  “I don’t think so, but we’ll find out.” He kissed her nose again and slipped off the sofa while extending a hand to help her to her feet.

  She threw on her jacket, double-checked her pockets for condo keys, wallet, and cell phone, and followed him out the door.

  As the elevator descended, she leaned against him and brushed her lips over his because she wanted to, and nothing in the world stopped her. The man destroyed all her inhibitions. She no longer doubted her ability to trust another man or fall in love. If he again asked her to stay, he might hear a yes.

  They reached the lobby, arm-in-arm.

  Standing, Robert waved Deems to the desk. “Sorry to tell you, sir, but Drummer is outside. Just pulled alongside the curb five minutes ago. You’ll see his sedan parked near the corner.”

  Deems’ arm tensed in hers. “Show me.”

  Robert pointed to a square on his computer screen. The camera angle caught a good view of Eric with his arm dangling out the car window with the evening breeze rustling his stringy hair.

  Whoa! Deems’ gaze changed from alert to full fire within seconds.

  He turned to Lauren, jaw tight. “Go upstairs. We’ll have dinner another time. I’m stopping him right now.”

  Chest tight, Lauren gripped his arm. “What will you do?”

  “For starters, drag him to my sister’s.”

  She stroked his cheek. “Please don’t let him hurt you.”

  With his gaze boring into hers, he stroked a finger along her chin. “Thank you for worrying, but if I need help, I’ll yell for Robert. Now, go upstairs.”

  Gut clenching, she cringed. “Will you call me?”

  He nudged her toward the elevators. “I won’t be long.”

  Oh, God. He might kill Eric and ruin his successful career. How would she ever forgive herself if this wonderful man got hurt?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fists tight, Deems closed his eyes and counted to ten. If he stepped outside with his temper boiling out of control, he’d kill Eric. What the hell was the man’s problem? Was he so friggin’ dense he couldn’t see Lauren’s lack of interest?

  Throughout his entire Dallas trip, Deems thought of nothing but her and barely had the concentration for business. Her smile, always so beautiful, brightened the world around her. Her expressive green eyes and alluring touch revealed her feelings better than words. Every part of her felt right, and no woman ever had him more mesmerized. Whoever this Jo-Jo was had to be a complete moron for letting her go. And I’ll be damned if I let Eric lay another hand on her.

  Moving around the security desk toward the rear hall, Deems pointed to Robert’s phone. “If you see Drummer swinging, call the cops. I’ll use the Exit door and sneak around from behind.”

  “I can come with you, sir.”

  A worthwhile suggestion. Robert was built like a brick shit-house with muscles bulging from every seam of his clothes, but no, Eric was a personal problem. The privilege to break every bone in his face belonged to Deems. “I’ll handle him, Robert. I don’t think he’s man enough to fight me, but just in case, my order stands with the phone call.”

  Deems hurried along the hall to a door marked Emergency Exit, which opened to an alley between this building and the next. Using the side wall as cover, he peeked around the building’s corner. Eric still had his arm dangling out the window, like he had all the time in the world to wait for Lauren to appear. With every muscle tense and ready to fight, Deems approached and yanked the driver’s side door with enough force to rattle its handle.

  Eyes and mouth wide, Eric snapped his head, flying his stringy hair every which way. “Yo, man, you startled me!”

  The waning evening light revealed bruises on Eric’s face. He had a whale of a lump on his right cheekbone, a cut over his right eye and lip, multiple contusions, and probably a few loose teeth.
The injuries made his ugly face uglier. Dismissing the temptation to add some bruises of his own, Deems urged Eric to slide across the bench seat. “I’m driving you home. I’ve had enough of this stalking.”

  Eric stiffened. “Look, man, I want to apologize.”

  Gut boiling, Deems jabbed a finger on Eric’s shoulder. “Like hell. You’re after her for a reason, and I don’t like it. Move over!”

  “All right, all right.” He slid to the passenger side. “I can drive myself, you know.”

  Deems slipped behind the steering wheel. “I’m kicking some sense into my sister’s thick head. I’ve had it with you.” He turned the ignition key to hear a grind and a squeal before the engine sputtered to life, sending a cloud of black smoke into the air. He threw the gear shift into Drive and rolled into traffic.

  The stench of motor oil filled the car’s cabin, along with exhaust fumes and dirty laundry—all causing his nose to itch. Deems couldn’t tell if the smell came from Eric or the upholstery. Maybe both. Grimacing, he waved a hand in front of his face. “What the hell is the smell?”

  Eric forced a laugh. “Hey, man, this car’s a classic! You don’t see many of these on the road.”

  No surprise there. Cars spewing pollution like a smoke stack should be condemned. He turned onto Seventieth Street. Small wonder I still remember how to handle a car. He rarely drove anymore and hadn’t bothered to buy a vehicle since moving from Chicago. With Lou chauffeuring him everywhere and cabs available at all hours, he had no need to drive himself.

  After a few blocks, Eric hung his arm out the side window while his other arm draped across the bench seat. A sneer twisted his lips. “Jan won’t believe you.”

  Deems shot him a glare. “I’ll make her believe me.”

  Twenty minutes later, he found a parking spot a half block from Jan’s brownstone apartment, which, these days, was a sheer miracle. His chest tight and with the unmistakable urge to hit something—like Eric—he cut the engine and tossed Eric his keys. “Let’s go.” He’d approached a now-or-never time. His sister might hate him for what he was about to do, but for Lauren’s sake, he’d do anything to keep away this asshole. Deems stepped from the car and slammed the door behind him, half expecting the hinges to snap from rust.

  Moving in a nonchalant fashion and still with that sneer on his lips, Eric patted the car hood on his way around to the curb. “You’re wasting your time, man.”

  Since he’d rather be with Lauren, he couldn’t agree more. Using his right hand, Deems splayed his fingers on Eric’s chest to stop him, matching him sneer for sneer. “Who worked you over, or are you planning to tell me you tripped on your roller skates?”

  Eric’s lips twitched. “Me and a friend got into a disagreement.”

  Must have been an argument fit for a boxing ring. Deems shook his head. “You hang with the wrong crowd, Eric.” He leaned close enough to smell Eric’s onion breath. “Jan better not be in any danger.”

  Eric backed away. “Aw, man, I won’t hurt her.”

  “I’m not worried about you hurting her. I’m worried about your friends. Come on. I’ve better things to do than hang with you.” He grabbed his arm and shoved him toward the brownstone.

  At that moment, from the opposite direction, Jan turned the street corner, carrying two canvas shopping bags, one in each hand. Her eyes widened to the point of popping as she met them at the apartment building’s steps.

  Her gaze shifted from Eric to Deems. “What’s going on?”

  Deems shoved Eric toward her. “Your so-called fiancé is stalking Lauren.”

  Palms outstretched, Eric faced Jan. “I only went to apologize. For your sake, Jan, so you and Lauren can be friends again. This way, she can move back and help us with the rent.”

  Jan thrust a canvas bag into Eric’s arms. “You have no reason to apologize for anything. Besides, I don’t want anyone with us. We’re a couple now. A third person will be in the way.”

  The woman wore ear plugs and blinders. What could Deems possibly say to persuade Jan to listen? Hell, he would willingly introduce her to a half-dozen potential mates. Mark Jordan for one. The man had a good head on his shoulders and a far-better future. Somehow, some way, Deems wanted to arrange a date between the two. He stared directly at Jan. “From here on, I no longer pay your rent. If you want to be a couple, then act like one and keep this joker away from Lauren.” He narrowed his gaze. “He’s frightening her, Jan. Don’t you even care?”

  Jan’s complexion changed to ash, and she gripped his arm. “You agreed to a couple more months, Deems. You know we can’t afford the rent.”

  Fighting to control a rising explosion, Deems shook off his sister’s hand. She hadn’t heard a word about Eric frightening Lauren. All she cared about was the rent. He hated to punish Jan because of her choice of mate, but he had his limits. Deems shook a thumb in Eric’s direction. “If this wise-ass looked for a job instead of spending his days stalking Lauren, maybe he can solve your money problems.”

  Since he fought the urge to grab his sister’s shoulders and shake some sense into her, he stepped back, out of reach. “I’m sorry, Jan. I’ll continue to pay your tuition, but the rent and credit card stop today.”

  “I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” She jutted her chin.

  Oh, cripes. She pulled this shit when she was five years old. He snorted. “Please do. I can inform them what a loser you found.”

  Eric spread his arms wide. “Hey, hey, I’m standing right here, you know.”

  “And what about my allowance, Deems? You stopping that, too?”

  Deems’ gaze shifted from his sister to Eric. “I won’t stop your allowance, because I don’t want to deprive you of basic necessities…like soap.” He scanned Eric’s smudged clothes.

  Eric glanced down at himself and, with the use of two hands, flicked his hair off his shoulders. “I’ve got prospects brewing. I need a little more time for everything to work out.”

  Stepping close, Deems glared into Eric’s face. “Then I suggest you wait here and not wherever Lauren is.”

  Jan nudged her way between the two men, placing her back to Eric, her gaze fixed on her brother. “You’re asking me to choose between my fiancé and money. I’ll choose Eric, you know.”

  Under better circumstances, he’d be proud of Jan’s choice, but not with Eric. She had the potential to do so much better. Maybe he should call his parents and let Mom give Jan an earful.

  The brownstone’s door flew open. Mr. O’Reilly stepped out, waving his arms. “Where’ve you been? Your apartment’s been ransacked!”

  Jan gasped. Eric cussed, and both ran into the brownstone.

  Deems silently groaned. What else could keep him from Lauren? Shaking his head, he followed. Once reaching the third floor, he approached the apartment’s open door to see Jan with a hand over her mouth.

  Everything was askew. Books from the shelving lay tossed to the floor. Every conceivable drawer was opened and dumped. Even the sofa had been turned on its front with the underside lining ripped.

  Pacing, Eric grumbled some obscenity.

  Deems waved a finger about the room. “I’m no detective, but obviously, someone was looking for something. Your television and stereo are still here, DVD collection, and laptop, too.” He turned to the landlord. “Did you see or hear anyone moving around the apartment?”

  O’Reilly shook his head. “The tenant on the second floor called to complain about the noise.” He pointed to the door. “They busted the lock. When I got up here, I found the door open and no one about. Whoever broke in probably used the back fire escape.” He surveyed the mess. “We should all the police.”

  Shoulders stiff, Eric stepped forward. “No cops, Mr. O’Reilly. One of my buddies is playing a practical joke.”

  Jan cocked a brow and stared. “Who?”

  “Never mind who. I’ll even the score.”

  Her mouth fell open. “None of my business? I live here!”

  With two hands, Deems gripped Eric
’s jacket and glowered close to his face. “I don’t know what you’re involved in, but rest assured, if anything happens to Jan or Lauren, I’ll make sure the court ships you straight to Sing-Sing.” He dropped his hold.

  Eric raised his hands, palms outward. “I know who’s responsible. Just two old friends, okay?” He adjusted his jacket.

  Deems bristled. Probably the same friend who used Eric’s face for a punching bag. For some reason, a black sedan with tinted windows came to mind.

  Chapter Nineteen

  With her stomach in a knot, Lauren paced in front of the sofa. The minutes passed and dragged into hours. If she wasn’t careful, she’d wear a spot on the rug straight down to the padding. How could she possibly relax with Deems out with Eric? What if Deems walked in all bruised? She’d burst into tears and bawl. And Jan, would she believe her brother? In all probability, Jan would convolute some sob story to counter her brother’s arguments. The girl was too damn young and inexperienced, and no amount of words or evidence would convince her otherwise.

  The condo phone rang. With a quick glance at the wall clock—nine-fifteen—she flew toward the kitchen to grab the receiver. “Yes, Johnny?”

  “Mr. Lambert’s here, ma’am.”

  “Good. Send him up.”

  Calm down. He’s alive. Staring through the peephole, she hurriedly opened the door before Deems reached for the bell and yanked him into the condo. Ignoring his amused gleam, she thoroughly inspected his face and then his hands. His suit was still impeccable. No smudges of dirt or blood. Everything appeared perfectly natural, and relief flushed to her toes.

  Chuckling, he flicked under her chin. “No, I did not hit him.” A half grin quirked on his lips as he closed the door. “Sorry I took so long. Jan’s apartment was ransacked.”

  Wincing, Lauren gripped his arm. “Is Jan okay?”

  “She wasn’t home at the time. Now, where were we?” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Wait a minute.” She nudged on his chest, not hard enough to break his embrace but enough to look up into his face. “You’re not giving me any details. What was taken?”