“So, what are you working on now?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink, which slid down my parched throat.
“What do you know about Jack Doleman?”
“The Jewel King?” I said, using the nickname given to the best known diamond broker in the state. “I heard he’s disappeared—maybe even kidnapped. Do the police know what happened?”
He shook his head. “Nothing’s certain. They assume he was kidnapped because they found signs of forced entry into his townhouse and blood on the living room carpet. Other than that, it’s all speculation. Do you want a sip?” He pushed his beer glass over to me.
I blinked, so absorbed in our discussion that I’d forgotten his earlier offer. I reached for the glass and took it to my mouth, inhaling deeply before I buried my upper lip in the cool, fragrant foam. I took a drink, closing my eyes in satisfaction.
When I opened them, I saw Carter’s gaze locked on me. It was focused on my mouth. Even though I couldn’t quite read his expression, it encouraged me. If I wasn’t mistaken, his eyes were clouded with something that looked like repressed lust. I swallowed again, this time feeling something much more potent than alcohol run through my veins, and licked the foam from my upper lip.
“It’s delicious, thank you,” I said almost in a whisper.
“You’re welcome. Feel free to help yourself.”
When I pushed the glass back to him, he reached out to take it and his fingers brushed mine. The light, feathery touch sent a shiver through my body, starting with the tips of my fingers.
Suddenly, conflicting sensations of shyness and unbearable longing overwhelmed me. I had to know if this could go anywhere. I needed to know more about him. He didn’t know I knew the truth about his wife, but I didn’t want him to find out I’d researched him either. It was rude and intrusive. Anything I learned about him had to come from his own lips.
“I couldn’t help noticing you’re wearing a wedding ring,” I said. “Are you married?”
The lust in his gaze dissipated replaced by caution and regret.
“I was,” he replied, tracing patterns in the condensation on his beer glass. “My wife died last Christmas.”
Though I knew it, his words and the way he spoke them struck me.
“I’m very sorry,” I said softly, regretting I’d brought up the topic. “I shouldn’t have asked...”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not as hard to talk about it anymore. Besides, you’re entitled to ask.” He looked up at me. “You’re the first woman I’ve asked out for a drink since Carina died.”
That stunned me. I suddenly felt inadequate and awkward, convinced anything I said would sound superfluous and trite.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked, knowing it was probably what he expected to hear.
He moistened his lips with his tongue before he started speaking.
“It happened on Christmas Eve, almost seven months ago,” he began. His voice sounded as if it came from far away, from the nightmarish depths of his past. “A car crash. Carina, my wife, had gone shopping with her friends. Diane, Carina’s best friend was driving.” He then recounted what I’d read in the news article. “Everyone died, except for the truck driver.”
Though I knew the story, hearing him tell it, his words tinged with sorrow, was heart wrenching. The silence between us stretched for several moments.
Finally, I said, “It was a terrible tragedy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring back such ghastly memories.”
Carter looked up at me. “You couldn’t have known. Besides, I have to get over it. One day,” he added wistfully.
“Had you been married long?”
“Two years.”
I felt like a worm for asking questions to which I already knew the answers.
“What happened to the truck driver?” I traced the rim of my glass with one finger.
“He only had a few scratches. But when I tracked him down and beat the shit out of him after Carina’s funeral, he was hospitalized for two weeks. I was lucky he didn’t press charges.”
“Good for you!” I said, my eyes narrowed in anger. “He deserved far worse for killing four innocent people.”
His gaze darted toward me, sharp and inquisitive.
“How did you know there were four? I never mentioned that.”
My hand froze the glass halfway to my lips. My heart skipped a beat before accelerating. Busted! I lowered my eyes, cheeks flaming. After several unsuccessful tries, I finally managed to say, “I ... read the article.”
“What article?”
Another few seconds ticked by before I gathered up my courage to confess my sin.
“I did an Internet search on you.”
When I dared to look up, I found him staring at me in astonishment.
“You did what? Why? You don’t even know me.”
“I knew your name. That day in the park, you gave me your full name. Then, the next day I saw an article of yours in the newspaper and ... I was curious about you, so I did some research. That’s kind of what I used to do. Please don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy,” I said, gazing at him intently. “I just ... I wanted to know more about you.” Those last words were barely audible. My face was burning. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, lowering my head. “I had no right to do that.”
Another silence, broken here and there with the distant sounds of radio music and the cars driving past, stretched between us. I chewed my bottom lip. Should I get up and leave? Would he?
Chapter Seven
I stole a glance at Carter, stunned to see his expression. Not only did he not look angry, he seemed pleasantly dazed. When our eyes met, his mouth twitched into a grudging smile.
“I suppose I should be pissed off,” he said, “but I’m flattered. Besides, I looked you up, too. It’s what I do.” He shrugged.
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
He grinned sheepishly. “You told me your full name, too. I found your LinkedIn profile and saw you worked for Finch & Associates. I was wondering how to find a reason to drop by when I bumped into you at Fredo’s. Maybe it was a sign.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Hope and joy bloomed in my soul as we stared at one another across the table. This gorgeous man was as interested in me as I was in him. Perhaps not as much, but I’d made a strong enough impression on him that he’d wanted to see me again. And he’d said that hadn’t happened since his wife had died.
“Why me?” I asked. “I mean ... In seven months you could have...”
“I didn’t want to,” he replied simply, staring into his glass. “I loved my wife. I had absolutely no interest in other women. Not until that day in the park when I spotted you lying there in the grass.”
I sent him a shy smile to hide the emotions tugging at my heart. “Oh, I bet I was a real turn-on,” I joked. “No makeup, sweaty tank top, and let’s not forget the dirt stains on my clothes.”
I expected him to laugh, but he was dead serious when he said gruffly, “You have no idea.”
I swallowed, mesmerized by the green depths of his eyes. I recalled that first encounter—me, lying on the grass, my face turned up to the sun’s rays, breathing heavily after a long jog. My tank top had slid up, leaving a portion of my tummy bare. I wore a simple sports bra underneath, but my nipples must’ve been clearly defined under the cotton, hardened by the cooling breeze.
The look in Carter’s eyes made me think he was remembering the same image. The pads of his fingers stroked the surface of the table absently. That simple gesture seemed so achingly erotic to me that I yearned for him to touch me instead of the cloth. I had to move, to do something that would release me from the trap of this breathtaking, sensuous spell.
I drained my glass and stood, grabbing my bag. He looked a bit surprised when I blurted out, “I have to go. I need to ... do something.”
His eyebrows raised, but he signaled the waitress for the bill and stood. The girl arrived in record time, making me think she’d
been watching him like a hawk. He paid her and put his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the café. That light touch sent my blood pressure soaring.
“Where did you leave your car?” he asked as we strolled along the narrow sidewalk.
“I walked to work today.”
“Okay. Then I’ll drive you home. I left mine right in front of Fredo’s.”
“Oh, you don’t have to bother. I live only a few blocks from here.”
“A few?”
“Five ... Maybe seven,” I said, rendered incoherent by the intoxicating scent of his aftershave assaulting me each time the breeze caressed my skin.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you walk that far, not in this heat,” he said, though the air had cooled down once the sun had set. “Besides,” he added, glancing sideways at me, “it’s not safe for you to walk alone.”
I had no answer to that.
“It just occurred to me that you know my life story,” he said, “but I don’t seem to know much about you.”
I chuckled. “There’s not much to tell. Until recently, I worked as a paralegal. I live in a rented apartment in Greenville with my fish, and for today at least I work at Fredo’s.”
“Why just for today?” he asked, sounding amused.
“It’s rather a long story. Let’s just say I haven’t had much luck on the job front lately.”
“I see. I don’t suppose you’re married.”
“No.”
“Involved with anyone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I blinked, taken aback by his directness.
“Well, when I worked at Finch & Associates, I didn’t have the time nor the energy needed for a relationship. Most importantly, I just didn’t feel the need to go out with anyone. I guess I’ve just gradually turned into a loner.”
“Welcome to the club,” he said. “Maybe we can practice being alone together. What do you think?”
“I would like that,” I answered shyly.
By now, we were back in front of Fredo’s. Carter steered me toward a navy blue, new model Ford. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for me. Inside, it smelled like him—a clean, fresh, masculine scent that never failed to send my senses into overdrive. My pulse followed suit as he climbed in next to me.
He asked for directions to my place, and I guided him through the busy traffic. Darkness had fallen. The street lights blinked on.
“That’s my place over there,” I said, pointing to the brick building on the left. “I’m on the second floor.”
Carter stopped in front of the complex, leaving the engine running. He turned to me. Thanks to the nearby street light, I could see his face clearly. He reached out to touch the scrape on my temple, which I’d masked with makeup earlier.
“What happened?”
I shrugged. “Nothing serious. Just a souvenir I picked up at my last job. Trust me, you don’t want to hear about it.”
“I do,” he said. “I want to hear all about it.”
Trying to keep to the facts, I told him about my brief employment at the pet shop and its unfortunate and abrupt end. By the time I’d finished talking, Carter was laughing so hard he had to hold on to his stomach.
“God, you really are something, Camilla,” he said when he could speak again, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “A man would never get bored with you around.”
“Want to bet?” I muttered from the corner of my mouth. “I get bored with myself all the time. It’s not fun at all when you’re a screwup.”
His smile faded and he grew serious.
“You’re not a screwup. I may not know you that well, but my impression of you is that you’re smart, funny, sensitive, warm ... I’ve had a great time with you tonight.”
“Me, too.”
My chest began to rise and fall more rapidly as I gazed at him expectantly. I was waiting for him to kiss me, but when several seconds passed, and he made no move toward me, I realized the waiting was becoming embarrassing. With a sharp twinge of disappointment, I grabbed my bag and clasped the door handle.
“Thanks for the ride home and for the drink,” I said as I opened the door, still looking at him.
“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Camilla.”
His voice bore a trace of uncertainty, as did his eyes. It was as though he wasn’t sure what to do, as if he was torn between the urge to act on his emotions and his loyalty to his wife’s memory. I didn’t want to be in the middle of that.
As I walked away, I stole a glance at him over my shoulder and saw him still staring after me. Was he regretting not kissing me as much as I was? Sorrow filled me—regret for him, for me, for the dead woman who’d left her mark on him and hadn’t gotten to enjoy this wonderful man who’d loved her.
But I was here. Maybe it was madness, but at that moment, I decided I would heal Carter’s emotional scars as surely as I was going to win his heart. Because he’d already won mine.
I let myself into my darkened apartment and walked through the rooms without turning on the lights. In my bedroom, I undressed, stretching my toes and calves. After a long, exhausting day on my feet, I didn’t have the energy to shower, or even remove my makeup. I crawled under the sheets naked, my head sinking into the soft pillow, a tired smile blooming over my face in the darkness. I closed my eyes in bliss, melting into an absolute state of relaxation.
I was enjoying a satisfying kiss when voices yanked me away from Carter’s lips.
“Oh, yeah ... That’s right, baby. Give it to me!”
Slap, slap, slap!
I jerked awake with a start. The noise was coming from next door—Bernie’s apartment. Mother of God, what the hell was he doing now? At first I thought it was a sexual marathon, but then I wasn’t sure old Bernie could get it up.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!”
More thumping, then a male voice, “Who’s your daddy?”
Damn it. Not again. The old man was watching another porn flick. The muscle under my right eye twitched rhythmically, mockingly echoing the tempo of the sounds of flesh against flesh.
I stuck my head under the pillow, but the noise was still audible. By now, I was so irritated, even the sound of my own breathing annoyed me.
Bernie was single, and on numerous occasions like yesterday, he’d come on to me, despite the fact I could be his granddaughter. Usually, I laughed it off, but tonight I was pissed.
I lifted my hand and smashed my fist against the wall a few times. The noise was abruptly cut off.
“What?” I heard his voice through the wall.
“Turn the volume down!” I shouted back.
Silence. Then he said, “Wanna come over? This one is new. It’s with BBC. I’m telling you, chickee, you gotta see this one in action!”
“Not in this lifetime,” I yelled back. “Turn down the sound. I need to sleep.”
With a heartfelt groan, I dropped my head on the pillow. If I ever became that desperate, I would definitely beg someone to shoot me.
* * *
After tossing and turning all night to the sounds of frantic copulation, I woke up mean as a cobra. A glare at my reflection in the mirror exposed red eyes lined by dark circles My right eye still twitched occasionally and, as if things weren’t bad enough already, I had an enormous mosquito bite under it. Did I mention I hate bugs?
I clenched my jaw, sore after a night spent grinding my teeth in aggravation. I made a quick trip to the living room to feed Fish. As he ate, I enviously contemplated him in his bowl, imagining how good it must feel to live under water, without having to listen to depraved old men watching porn at midnight.
When I returned to the bathroom, I turned the water on and stepped under the shower. I washed quickly, then toweled off and jumped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I was already running late. I smudged mascara over my eyelashes and chose to leave the lip gloss for later, as I grabbed my bag and dashed out of my apartment.
Out of necessity I drove to the restaurant
, rushing through a few amber lights on the way. When I arrived, the breakfast crowd filled most of the tables. I walked into the kitchen where Polly and Molly were in full swing over steaming pots and pans. The aroma of fried eggs, bacon, ham, pancakes, coffee and other delicacies made my mouth water.
“You’re late,” Polly pointed out unnecessarily, a grease-dripping spatula in her hand.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said, as I headed to the break room. “I’m going to change right away. Morning, Carrie.”
“Morning,” my sister said as she rushed out carrying three plates. “Hurry, I need some help out here.”
I changed into my uniform and returned to the kitchen. As I began delivering orders, I kept yawning, not always able to put my busy hands over my mouth. Around noon, things started to slow down. I managed to pee before I exploded. When I exited the bathroom, I found Carrie sitting on the sofa in the break room, her feet stretched out in front of her.
“How’d it go last night with the blond stud?” she asked, smiling wolfishly at me.
I hadn’t had time to think of Carter, but the memory of him brought heat to my cheeks.
“So-so. We just had a drink together, that’s all. Thanks for the dress, by the way. I forgot to bring it, but you can drop by my place after work to get it. Oh, here are your earrings,” I said, remembering I hadn’t taken the pearls off last night.
I reached out to unfasten one and handed it to Carrie, but when I tried to remove the other one, my hand froze.
“Holy shit!”
“What is it?” Carrie asked.
“I’ve lost one of your earrings!” I looked around, panicked. “It has to be in here somewhere. I know I had it when I arrived for work this morning.”
I was about to drop to my knees in search of it when I heard a commotion in the restaurant. Loud voices rose in what seemed to be an argument. Carrie and I looked at one another, then hastily went to see what was going on.
We spotted the problem immediately at table three, which was surrounded by several people, Polly and Molly included. As soon as I approached, Polly turned toward me, with a stern look on her face and her hand turned upward. The blood drained out of my face when I saw what she was holding.
Sacked! Page 7
