by Kali Argent
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He imagined she didn’t have many people she could talk to who would understand her situation. “That has to be really hard.”
“We make do.” She sounded so dejected and without hope, but she still smiled. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I better get her in out of the wind.”
“It was nice to meet you, too.” Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, he watched her walk away, feeling a rush of solidarity for the young mother who’d been dealt a shitty hand. “Emery, wait.”
“Yes?”
Jogging over to her, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out one of his business cards. “It’s just around the block. It’s not nursing, but if you need a job, we’re looking for a new receptionist.”
They really weren’t, but he knew Dominic wouldn’t turn her away. His boss collected strays like some people collected stamps. He especially had a soft spot for those down on their luck.
“Oh, thank you.” She gripped the business card to her chest. “I don’t know what to say. I think you might be my guardian angel.”
Heat spread across his cheeks, and he coughed to clear his throat. “Nah. Just in the right place at the right time.” Taking a step back, he tipped the brim of his cap. “Good luck.”
She thanked him again, and they said their goodbyes before parting ways in opposite directions. He’d almost reached the crosswalk when his phone vibrated in the pocket of his faded and ripped jeans. Though he had a good idea of who was calling, he still smiled when he saw Phoebe’s name flash across the screen.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Damn, she had the best laugh, and his grin grew just a little wider.
“Where are you? It sounds windy.”
“Just out and about, doing good deeds and changing lives.” He briefly told her about his chance encounter with Emery Ballard, but he didn’t mention anything about his little stopover at the gym. “Hey, you still there?” When she still didn’t say anything, he worried she may have gotten the wrong impression about his interaction with Emery. “I just felt bad for her, that’s all.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” Phoebe said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re a good man, Rayce. The world should have more people like you in it.”
“Yeah, well, you make me want to be better.” Before he’d met Phoebe, he likely wouldn’t have spared Emery a second glance, and definitely wouldn’t have stopped to talk to her. He liked the new him a lot better. “Now, knock it off. You’re going to make me blush.”
“Oh, heaven forbid.”
He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “I’m assuming you called for a reason?”
“Do I need a reason?”
No, but calling just to shoot the breeze when he’d see her in a few hours wasn’t really her style. “Are you going to keep busting my balls, or are you going to tell me why you called?”
Phoebe laughed again, the sound hypnotic. “I just wanted to check to see what time you were coming over tonight.”
“Our reservations are at eight, so probably seven-ish. Why?”
“Elena is taking me out for cupcakes and coffee for my birthday. It’s a tradition. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t coming by early.”
“Sounds tasty,” he teased. He’d been monopolizing a lot of her time lately, and he was glad she was going out for a girls’ day with her best friend. “Have fun, and save me a cupcake. I’ll see you at seven.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“Hey, Phoebe?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy Birthday, sugar.”
~ ~ ~
“But, the point is, I did save you a cupcake.”
“You ate all the icing off it!” Rayce cut the wheel to the left, attempting to parallel park his behemoth of a vehicle near the curb.
“Well, it was the best part.” Ducking her head, Phoebe bit her bottom lip to stop the smile she felt coming.
Once parked, Rayce glared and shook his head before exiting the pickup. Phoebe could barely contain her giggles. She had half a dozen frosted cupcakes sitting in her fridge at home, but he didn’t know that. Seeing the look on his face when she’d presented him with a vanilla cupcake, sans its icing, had been the best birthday present of all.
Rounding the front of the truck, he was still glaring when he opened her door and offered his hand. “Laugh it up,” he said, helping her down to the sidewalk. “There will be payback.”
He’d dressed in a pair of black slacks and a pinstriped shirt for the evening, and he looked so handsome Phoebe had a hard time concentrating on anything else. His wavy locks had been trimmed sometime during the day, the style more conservative, but the look suited him.
“You know, this place has valet parking,” she commented, slipping her hand into his as they walked the block and a half to the restaurant.
“Yes, and it’s fifty bucks, plus tip. That’s ridiculous.”
His frugal side always amused her. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford valet parking. He just simply refused to spend unnecessary funds on something he could do himself.
“That’s all well and good, but these aren’t really walking shoes.”
Pausing at the intersection, she stuck her right leg out to the side and wiggled her foot. The powder-blue, open-toed heels added a punch of color to her sleeveless black dress, but they pinched the hell out of her toes.
In response, Rayce scooped her up into his arms, laughing at her squeal of protest, and carried her across the street. “Did I mention you look gorgeous tonight?”
“Yes, but I’m a girl, so you can tell me again.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Holding on to his neck, Phoebe arched up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. You clean up nice yourself, Mr. Hawkins.”
He kissed the top of her head. “How was your date with Elena?”
“Pretty good. We had cupcakes and drank too much coffee. Then we went to a matinee at the dollar cinema.” It had been fun and relaxing, and nothing bad or creepy had happened. She’d call that a win.
“What did she get you for your birthday?” As they approached the entrance to the restaurant, Rayce placed her on her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. She found the original stereo made for the 1973 El Caminos! It’s so shiny and pretty, and it actually works!”
An odd expression passed over his face. He looked…smug. “That’s great, sugar. I can’t wait to see it.”
“About that…”
“Yes,” he said after giving the hostess his name. “I’ll install it for you this weekend.”
Phoebe wiggled a little and hugged him tight. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
The kid who led them to their table couldn’t have been more than eighteen, but that didn’t stop her from openly ogling Rayce when she seated them. Not that Phoebe could blame her. Hell, she admired the girl’s taste.
“So, tell me more about the woman you met today,” Phoebe said once they were alone. “Do you think she’ll go talk to Dominic?”
“Apparently, she already did.” Picking up the menu, Rayce looked it over briefly, then put it to the side. “Dom called me right before I picked you up. I guess we have a new receptionist.”
“I still say that was really sweet of you.” Her heart had melted when he’d told her about Emery Ballard over the phone. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Rayce had a big heart. It was just one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. “You’re a big softy.”
“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.” Inclining his head, he thumbed the side of his nose and sniffed. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
The server arrived then to take their orders. Phoebe hadn’t even looked at the menu yet, but Rayce rambled off a list of food that was enough to feed an entire third-world country.
The server repeated the order back to him, reading from a small notepad in his hand. “Will there be anything else?” he ask
ed, turning to Phoebe.
“Uh, can I get a blackened chicken salad? No tomatoes. Extra ranch dressing on the side.”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”
“That’s all.” When the server nodded and hurried away, she looked across the table at Rayce and smiled. “Hungry?”
Reaching across the black tablecloth, Rayce took her hand and held it between both of his own. “I just ordered a little of everything that looked good. I figure whatever we don’t eat will make a good breakfast.”
It was the first time she’d be staying at his place instead of the other way around, and though it was silly, she felt a little flutter of nerves about it. “Let me guess. You forgot to go grocery shopping.”
“I didn’t forget,” he answered defensively. “I…was busy.”
“As long as you have coffee.”
“I…”
“Rayce!”
He squeezed her hand, the left side of his mouth quirking up in a crooked grin. “Don’t worry, sugar. You’ll have your caffeine fix.”
The hostess appeared beside their table. “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt. Are you Phoebe Keller?”
“I am.” As a writer, she wasn’t often recognized on the street, and she had the feeling this had nothing to do with her books. “Can I help you with something?”
“I was asked to deliver this to your table.” From behind her back, she produced a single white rose with a note attached by a purple ribbon. “Happy Birthday, Miss Keller.”
With a shaking hand, Phoebe took the rose, holding it by the stem. “Who gave this to you?”
“Some guy. He said he wanted to surprise you.”
“Can you describe him?” Rayce demanded.
The girl took a step back from the table, her face twisting into a mask of anxiety. “Kind of tall, I guess. Athletic. He had blond hair.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s all I remember.”
“He didn’t tell you his name?”
The hostess shook her head again. “No. He said you’d know who it was from.”
Not wanting to make the girl any more uncomfortable, Phoebe thanked her politely. The young woman seemed relieved as she bobbed her head, then rushed back to her podium.
“Goddamn it,” Rayce grumbled. “This is really starting to chap my ass.”
Phoebe didn’t like it any more than he did. “There’s a note.” With her heart pounding, she turned the card over and squinted at the tiny print. “‘For where thou art, there is the world itself.’”
“What?”
“It’s a quote from Shakespeare’s Henry IV.” A shiver rippled down her spine. “That’s not the whole quote, though.”
Rayce looked almost afraid to ask. After scrubbing both hands over his face, he splayed them across the table and sighed. “What’s the rest of it?”
“‘And where thou art not,’” she recited, “‘desolation.’”
“Okay.” He lifted his hand in the air to hail their server. “I think it’s time to go. I’m sorry, Phoebe.”
“Don’t be. Let’s just get out of here.” She felt cold, vulnerable, and she just wanted to go home. “We can pick up burgers at a drive-thru on the way home or something.”
Five minutes later, they’d successfully canceled their orders and were on their way back to the pickup—Phoebe held securely in Rayce’s arms. He didn’t say anything during the short walk, but his neck and shoulders were tense, and his long strides ate up the sidewalk. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his teeth audibly grinding together, and every few seconds, his nostrils would flare.
Phoebe had never seen him so angry.
Rounding the corner, he stopped abruptly, his arms tightening around her, his fingers digging into her hips and shoulders.
“Rayce!” she squeaked.
His hold instantly relaxed, but the mask of fury that twisted his handsome features remained. Following his gaze, Phoebe gasped as her stomach knotted viciously.
“Oh, no.”
The windshield of the Silverado webbed in several places, the fissures fanning out across the glass. Both headlights had been broken, their glass laying in pieces on the ground. Tires slashed, hood dented, windows broken—not a single part of the vehicle had been left undamaged.
Two words had been carved into the passenger side door in big, block letters.
Not yours.
“I’m going to murder him,” Rayce said, his voice quiet, deceptively calm. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”
“Who? Do you know who did this?”
“Your fucking ex.”
“Tucker?” Phoebe blinked. “Why would Tucker do this?”
“I went by his gym this morning to tell him to leave you alone.”
“You threatened him,” Phoebe surmised.
“He deserved it.”
Well, she couldn’t argue that. “Do you really think he did this?”
Rayce breathed deeply through his nose, held the breath, then released it through his lips. “I don’t know, but you’re not going to that book conference.”
“Rayce, I have to.” Her agent would kill her if she ditched. “Besides, you’ll be there the whole time, right?”
He shook his head. Stopped. Shook his head again. “You’re not going.”
Now wasn’t the time to push him, so Phoebe just settled into his arm and patted his chest. “Okay. We won’t go.”
CHAPTER TEN
So many people.
Tables upon tables had been packed into the hotel’s grand ballroom, at least thirty rows deep and ten wide. Three hundred authors. Add in triple the number of readers, and it was enough to make Phoebe’s head spin.
Strong arms surrounded her waist, and a wall of muscle pressed against her back.
“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“No one would be stupid enough to try anything with this many people around.”
Despite the fact that Tucker had motive for destroying Rayce’s pickup—and he matched the description of the man who had left the rose at the restaurant—he’d once again been ready with an alibi when police had questioned him. A part of Phoebe had been hoping to find out Tucker had been behind it all. At least then, she’d know what to expect.
“You’re probably right, but I still don’t have to like it.” Rayce hugged her a little closer. “How are you holding up?”
Settling her arms on top of his, she leaned back against his chest and sighed. “I’m okay. Ask me again when this is over.”
“What do you need me to do?”
They’d already set up her banners beside her signing table, and Jonas had been kind enough to help arrange her books and promotional materials in a professional way she could never hope to mimic. Other authors milled about the room, some with assistants, some without, some working diligently, and others making small talk with their fellow wordsmiths. The dull roar of conversation from the mass of readers waiting beyond the double doors permeated the room and bounced off the highs ceilings.
“I think I’m all set.” She checked the time on her cell phone. “Twenty minutes and counting.”
“It’s a goddamn madhouse out there,” a beautiful woman with flowing black hair and brilliant, sapphire-blue eyes called as she hurried down the aisle toward them. “You must be Phoebe.” She pulled her from Rayce’s embrace and hugged her tight. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
Taken aback, Phoebe tried to think of something to say. “Do I know you?”
Behind her, Rayce laughed. “Phoebe, this is Wren Hayashi. We work together. I guess you could call her my partner.”
“Oh!” She’d heard a lot of colorful stories about the ARIES team, but it was her first time actually meeting any of Rayce’s friend. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”
“Lies.” Wren flicked her fingers. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
“Well, they were all good things.”
“In that case, it’s true. Every word of it.�
� Wren winked as she adjusted the sleeves of her silky, black button-down shirt. “So, when did you say this thing starts?”
“Twenty minutes,” Phoebe repeated. She still didn’t understand why the woman was there. “Are you here as a reader?”
“Well, I like to read. Does that count?”
Two men dressed similarly to Rayce in dark-wash, painted on jeans and plain black T-shirts came strutting down the aisle toward them, both incredibly handsome, athletically built, and drawing an extraordinary amount of attention. Some women openly gawked, others whispered to their friends behind their hands, and a few brave authors whistled and catcalled. Both men took it all in stride, smiling and waving, and the one with the perfectly styled pompadour blew a kiss to the small group nearest him.
Wren huffed. “You can’t take them anywhere.”
“More friends of yours?” Phoebe asked when the newcomers reached them.
“Ryder Frost,” Rayce said with a huge grin. “His parents own the Frost Foundation.”
Phoebe offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Taking her hand, Ryder bent and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, grinning coyly at her when Rayce grunted. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Keller. I’m a big fan of your work.”
Heat burst across her cheeks, and her heart beat a little faster. “You’ve read my books?”
“Absolutely. I recommended that my parents invite you to be a guest speaker at the gala. I’m glad they took my advice.”
Not that it was completely unheard of, but she didn’t know many men who read romance novels—especially not guys who looked like they could be on the cover of one. Though flattered, she didn’t really know what to say to that. It was always hard to talk about her books. She didn’t want to come off as arrogant or self-important, but she also didn’t want to sound insecure or as if she lacked confidence in her work.
In the end, she settled simply for, “Thank you.”
“Okay, enough.” Rayce shoved Ryder out of the way and pulled Phoebe closer to him. “Sugar, this is Tieran Mercier.”
The name registered immediately, and Phoebe offered her hand again. “How’s the lip?”
Tieran shrugged as his colleagues laughed. “I’ve had worse.”
