by Erik Carter
Sharon scowled at Dale. “You didn’t tell me you have a girlfriend. Pig.” She whipped around and left.
Dale called out behind her. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my … sister.”
“Your Asian sister,” Spiro said and awkwardly settled up to the bar beside Dale with her crutches. “I’m only five minutes late. You really had to strike up a round of flirting?
“Time’s precious. Can’t waste it.”
Spiro pointed to Dale’s glass. “Water, huh?”
“Yep. But it looks like a gin and tonic.”
“It looks like a glass of water. Pussy.” She smiled at him.
“So what’s this exciting news?”
Spiro pushed her crutches to the side and gingerly pulled herself onto a barstool. “I’m going to the Academy.”
“FBI?”
Spiro nodded. “In a few months. The process usually takes a lot longer than that, of course, but Taft was able to pull strings for me. He said my experience with you more than qualifies me. Now I’ll be a real agent.”
“You always were a real agent.”
She beamed and looked straight into him for a moment. Her brown eyes were clear, and Dale noticed again how lovely they were. She pulled the corner of her lower lip between her teeth then glanced down at her hands. She looked back up at him. “I had another reason for inviting you here. I know I was a real ass to you for a while, so this might seem out of left field, but I was thinking that some day you and I could —”
“No. I’m sorry, but no.”
“Lightning-fast decision. Ouch.”
Dale enjoyed dating. He liked the company of beautiful women, and he loved being a charmer. He’d grown to care about Gillian Spiro over the last few days, and so he already knew what kind of a great soul lay beneath her often prickly demeanor. Stunning, smart, sassy, and unafraid to stick up for herself. On the surface, that sounded about perfect. But something inside him told him that it wasn’t meant to be.
“Listen, you’re an awesome woman, and you’re gorgeous, but after our assignment, I haven’t felt a more platonic connection to an attractive woman in my life. I don’t get too many chances to make friends in the BEI. I’d be honored if you’d be one of them.”
She took a moment to process his rejection. “I’d like that.”
“Besides, I think you ought to give Calvin Dunnett a call.”
Spiro drummed her fingers on the bar. “You’re right. I will. And you should be calling Jamison Zane.”
Dale wiped away a fake tear. “Some things are best left in the past.” He flicked the invisible tear across the bar. “I wasn’t allowed to buy you a drink at the airport or a sandwich back in Oregon. Is it okay if I buy you a drink now?”
“Absolutely.”
Dale waved at the bartender, who made his way over. “A beer for the lady, please.” He turned back to Spiro. “May I call you Gillian?”
“Of course.”
The bartender placed a bottle of beer in front of Spiro.
Dale raised his water glass and tipped it toward Spiro. “Here’s lookin’ at you.”
Spiro tapped her beer bottle against Dale’s glass.
“Gillian, I think this is the start of a damn good friendship.”
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Also by Erik Carter
The Dale Conley Action Thriller Series
Stone Groove
Dream On
The Barnaby Wilcox Wild West Mystery Series
The Clements Kettle
The Preston Emerald
About the Author
Erik Carter writes thrillers and mysteries. A trained public historian and design professional, his adventures have led him across America, where he has done everything from hosting a television show to shooting documentaries in the desert to teaching college. These experiences gave the background he needs for his greatest adventure—writing fiction.
www.ErikCarterBooks.com
Acknowledgments
For their involvement with Dream On, I would like to give a sincere thank you to:
My ARC readers, for providing reviews and catching typos. Thanks!
April Snellings, once again, for incredible editing and being a great pal.
Dad, for police procedure and 1970s period information.
Mom, for ’70s female fashion thoughts, information, and opinions.
My friends and family, for the support.
