Except somehow he did.
Fat raindrops bounced across his windshield, then struck with a thunderous barrage. He flipped his wipers to the highest speed and braked as he approached an intersection. Lightning zapped nearby, and the traffic light disappeared. Simultaneously the streetlamps darkened.
Seeing no other headlights, he cautiously maneuvered through the intersection while pulling out his phone. He found Dani’s name, then hesitated. His thumb hovered over the send button.
He couldn’t break the rules of The Game.
Not for a slip of a girl who skulked around hospitals and spilled soda on his pants.
Not even if her dark eyes intrigued him with their secrets.
– 5 –
Dani froze as the lamp beside her bed flickered, then went out. By the dim light of her open laptop, she edged her way to the dark window and removed the blanket covering the ragged blind. With the streetlights out, the world beyond her bedroom was black and ominous.
Despite her assurances to Brett, she barely felt safe here in the daylight, let alone at night. Now the power outage made it an even scarier place. Even the name, Baines Lodging, was too close to Bates Hotel for her peace of mind.
The storm seemed to rise in power, the rain pounding against the window as if demanding entrance.
No taking a shower tonight.
She crawled back into bed, pulled the comforter over her knees, and stared into the darkness.
Why had she ever come here?
She glanced at the newspaper article filling the screen of her laptop. She’d read it so many times she practically had it memorized. And that was before Brett had asked her to be his date.
“Up-and-Comer Honorees Announced: Columbus’s Top Thirty Young Professionals”
The splashy headline was followed by details about tomorrow night’s awards banquet and information about the recipients.
Dani picked up the laptop and cradled it in her lap. With a click, Brett’s enlarged photo appeared on the screen. Confidence radiated from his dimpled smile and direct gaze. This was a man who didn’t shy from a camera. But why would he? He was gorgeous, and he knew it.
She set aside the laptop and picked up her camera. Despite the room’s darkness, she managed to turn it on and slowly flipped through the photos she’d taken of Brett at the hospital.
What had he been doing there?
Since returning to her rooms, she’d been going through her notes, searching for something she might have missed or forgotten. But nothing new popped out.
She knew his home address—a posh apartment in an upscale high-rise—his office address, his alma mater, club connections, and even the basics about his sister and cousin. But children? Nothing.
Perhaps that was his Achilles’ heel. A secret child who was sick.
Hopefully that wasn’t his only secret. She needed to find something she could use to hurt him, but it wouldn’t be that.
She flipped through the photos again, her eyes glued to the man’s handsome features. The one of him staring into the sky especially tugged at her heart. But she couldn’t let compassion for whatever heartache he had been feeling affect her resolve.
After clicking off the camera, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe the evening had been a dream. But no. She had gone to a movie with Brett Somers and then he’d asked her to accompany him to the banquet, totally oblivious that she already had a ticket.
Fifty bucks she hadn’t needed to spend. Maybe she could get a refund.
She shut off the camera and returned to her laptop. Thankfully, since the internet was out, all her research had been saved to a folder. After a couple of clicks, the video popped onto the screen. She had found the entire interview with Ohio’s so-called most eligible bachelor shortly after a thirty-second clip became a “must see” sensation. Dani’s co-workers, even the dragon-lady administrative assistant to the president, swooned as Brett Somers flirted shamelessly with the middle-aged interviewer.
Was Dani the only one with enough sense to wonder why this gorgeous wealthy man was still single? Behind the alluring dimples and engaging charm hid an ogre. And though she kept it to herself, she had the proof.
Each of the Up-and-Comer honorees had been interviewed by a television personality for a regional program’s website. However, Brett’s interview also aired on TV. The interviewer had obviously been smitten.
Perhaps the woman had realized she needed to make up for her unprofessional fawning by moving beyond narrative fluff. Or perhaps she hoped Brett could be wooed by her sympathetic handling of his parents’ tragic deaths.
Whatever her motives, the interview had quickly descended into a dark pit as she urged Brett to share his feelings about the airplane crash that orphaned him and his sister. But instead of wallowing in sorrow, he lashed out at the airplane’s pilot in barely controlled anger.
Dani set the cursor at the appropriate spot and hit play. Brett’s familiar voice came through the speaker.
“That incompetent pilot killed—no, murdered—my parents. If she hadn’t been killed too, she’d have spent the rest of her life in prison.”
Stop. Rewind. Play. Stop. Rewind. Play.
Brett’s words seared into Dani’s brain like the refrain from a nightmarish song.
Thunder cracked, startling her, and she envisioned her mother’s plane falling from the sky in ear-splitting terror.
She’d been orphaned that day too.
Though reluctant to lose even its small light, she slid the laptop to the floor, then huddled into a tight ball beneath the comforter. The only way to escape her pain was in the merciful bliss of sleep.
When she awoke, the sun would be shining, the electricity would be restored.
And maybe, just maybe, her heart wouldn’t feel so dead inside.
Brett groaned and checked the time. Not even three o’clock. Flipping back the covers, he sat on the edge of the bed and pressed his forehead against the heels of his hands.
This would teach him to drink coffee so late. Though caffeine wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t sleep.
He’d come home after leaving Meghan’s place, flipped on the lights, and poured a glass of cold water from the pitcher in his humming refrigerator.
But what had happened when Dani flipped the switch at her place? Did the room light up or remain in darkness? He should have called her when the streetlights went out at that intersection. Just to check.
His bare feet sank into plush carpet as he headed for the kitchen. Pulling a bottle of Scotch from a cabinet, he eyed the label. Liquor wouldn’t shut up his nagging conscience.
Or tell him when he’d gotten one.
He placed the bottle back on the shelf, accidentally clanking it against a glass dessert bowl. He upended the dish, and a glittering amethyst and diamond ring fell into his palm.
Tracie’s ring.
She’d left it in a teacup by the kitchen sink when the concierge had moved her out. Brett suspected she’d done it on purpose, an excuse to come back and see him.
But about two months had passed since their breakup, and she hadn’t contacted him.
He probably should return it to her. Unless he was the one who had paid for it. Only his accountant knew how Tracie had spent his money during their short relationship. Life was easier when someone else handled the bills, and Brett didn’t really care how much shopping she had done with his credit card.
But thinking about money led his thoughts to Jonah. Even if Meghan objected to the idea, Brett needed to establish a trust fund for his injured son. He’d already put it off too long.
Making a mental note to set up a meeting with his attorney, he plopped the ring back into the dish. Then he opted for orange juice instead of the Scotch and raised the glass.
“Happy birthday, Jonah.”
He downed the juice, then returned to the bedroom. But he knew sleep wouldn’t come. Not yet.
Pulling aside the floor-length drapes, he stared out the patio doors into the stormy
night.
And prayed.
At least, he tried. This prayer thing was still new to him, and he wasn’t sure he was doing it right. Especially at moments like this when the stakes were so high. What was he supposed to do to be sure God listened to him?
AJ had said the past didn’t matter. But the past always mattered. And Brett’s past certainly wasn’t that of a saint. It broke all his business principles to expect God to grant him what he wanted when he had spent his days flouting anything to do with God. That just didn’t make sense.
All of his adult life he had been the one in control. He was the one who planned and strategized and manipulated the outcomes.
But he couldn’t out-manipulate God. And he couldn’t control what happened to Jonah.
He has to get better, God. He has to come out of this coma. What do I have to do to make sure that happens?
The silence of the night surrounded him. A city asleep.
Maybe God was asleep too.
– 6 –
The ringing of Dani’s phone woke her from a restless night’s sleep. She opened one eye and glared at the clock’s blank display.
Still no electricity.
She reached for the phone and answered without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Get up, sleepyhead.” Brett’s too-cheerful voice sounded through the speaker. “The day’s a-wastin’.”
“I thought the banquet was tonight,” she said, her voice groggy.
“It is. But there are a lot of hours till then.”
“How many hours?” She glanced at the clock on her phone: 7:49. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Too early, huh?”
“Only because I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Why not?”
“The electricity’s out.” Sitting up, she finger-teased her hair, then pushed it away from her face. “It’s a little scary here in the dark.”
When he didn’t answer, Dani checked the screen to be sure they were still connected. “Hello? You there?”
“I’m here. In fact, I’m right here. Outside your building.”
“What? Why?” Dani scurried to the window, then yanked too hard on the sash’s cord. Hardware popped from the frame, and the yellowed window blind slanted as one side fell. Ignoring the crisis, she wiped condensation from the mottled glass with her sleeve. Brett’s shiny Lexus was parked next to her beater, his headlights shining through the heavy downpour.
“I brought coffee. Okay if I come inside?”
Dani glanced around the bedroom. Its décor dated to before her birth, and she didn’t think the place had been cleaned much since then either. The drafty building seemed to be permeated with the chill of the rain. But at this time in her life, financial considerations trumped comfort and cleanliness. She should never have told him where to find her.
Too late now.
“Dani?”
“Um, sure. It’s the second floor, number 202.”
“Heading your way.”
The call ended, and she swiped at the window again. Brett emerged from the Lexus, yanked the hood of his jacket over his head, then sprinted toward the building.
Dani hurriedly changed into jeans and a light sweatshirt, then raised the blinds in the other room, part sitting area and part kitchen. There was nothing she could do to improve its lackluster appearance. Except burn it to the ground.
When Brett knocked, she slid the deadbolt and opened the door. Their eyes met, and he flashed his dimples.
No one should look so gorgeous this early in the morning.
“Hey, there,” he said. “Sorry for waking you.”
“That’s okay. I needed to get up.”
“It’s dark in here. How long has your electricity been out?”
“All night.”
“You should have called me.”
“Why would I have done that?”
He shrugged, and she resisted the childish impulse to stamp her foot. “Why are you here?” she demanded.
“Told you.” He held out a cardboard carrier containing four cups. “Coffee.”
“Come on in.” She stepped back so he could enter the grim apartment, her cheeks burning at what he must be thinking as he looked around the dump she called home.
“I suppose this is way below your standards.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
He faced her, his expression neutral. “What do you know about my standards?”
She hesitated, then gestured to the cardboard tray. “One of those mine?”
“More than one if you want. I’ve got light roast, dark roast, café au lait, and hot chocolate.”
“Whipped cream on that hot chocolate?”
“You bet.” He handed her the cup, and she wrapped her hands around its warmth before taking a sip.
“Um, good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You want to sit?” She gestured toward the sofa. Threadbare arms stuck out beneath the floral quilt draped over the back and seat cushions. Studying his face, she waited for his repulsed reaction.
But it didn’t come.
“I know I’m taking a big chance here,” he said. “But I thought we might spend the day together.”
“Doing what?”
“First, breakfast. I know a little place in German Village with the best omelets you’ve ever had.”
“The best, huh?”
“The very best.” He tapped his coffee cup against hers. “Then, if this rain lets up, maybe I can show you around the city. How about it?”
Dani’s eyes slightly narrowed. Perhaps she imagined it, but his voice, even the expression in his eyes, seemed close to pleading. That didn’t seem likely, but there was only one way to find out.
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why would you want to spend the day with me?”
“Why not?”
“Don’t you have better things to do?”
He hesitated, tilting his head in thought for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “Truth?”
This should be good. “Please.”
“Nope.”
“Nope? That’s it?”
“I don’t have anything better to do.” He gave a self-conscious laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?”
He took a long sip of his coffee, obviously buying time. Two could play that game. She swirled her cup, then took a drink. The whipped cream barely cooled the heat of the chocolaty beverage.
“I know it was presumptuous to show up like this. But it’ll give us a chance to get to know each other before all the formality of the banquet. Unless, of course, you already have plans.”
“I have plans.” Plans to fine-tune her résumé and scour the not-working internet for job openings. If she didn’t find something soon, her only other option was that sales position in Boise. Even the thought of making that kind of move churned her stomach.
“Anything that can’t be changed?”
Plans, too, to find out more about the man who had publicly accused her mother of murder. And here he was, drinking his coffee without a care in the world and giving her another golden opportunity.
“I need a few minutes to get ready.”
“Take your time. I’m going to step into the hall.” He slipped his phone from his pocket. “I’ve got a call to make.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he left the apartment, she went to her bedroom, closed the door, and pressed her hands to her knees. She couldn’t do this.
Inhaling a deep breath, she straightened, then slowly exhaled. She owed it to her mom to find a way to humiliate Brett. Maybe then the childhood nightmares that had haunted her since she watched the interview would go away.
If she had to spend the day with him to figure out a plan, so be it.
Which left her with one question: What did he really want with her?
Brett finished his call, then reentered the ap
artment. A weak rectangle of light from the single window filtered through the steady rain. Too bad the weather was so uncooperative. Otherwise they could have wandered through German Village or gone bicycling along the Scioto Mile.
Cautiously sitting on the edge of the quilt-draped sofa, he drank his lukewarm coffee. In the meager light, the place looked depressing. But it probably didn’t look much better when the sun was shining. Why in the world did Dani move into a dump like this? Had what she left in Cincinnati been even worse?
His curiosity grew as he glanced around the room. No personal items or framed photos adorned the rickety end table. Only a couple of magazines. Photographers Journal. The Smithsonian.
He stood and examined the prints hanging on the walls. Trite, uninspiring stuff in cheap frames that probably came with the place. Strange that someone with such an interest in photography didn’t showcase her own work.
The only nice piece of furniture was a slender, five-shelf bookcase. He scanned the titles.
Howard’s End. Les Misérables. A collection of short stories by Edith Wharton. Novels by Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. A crate on the floor overflowed with more books.
He picked up a well-worn copy of The Secret Garden and opened it. The message inscribed on the flyleaf said:
Dearest Dani,
Wherever life takes you, may you always have the delight of a secret place as full of beauty and wonder as you are.
With all my love,
Mom
At least she had family. So what was she doing in this dump?
One thing was certain. By the end of the day, he’d know.
The bedroom door squeaked open, and his welcoming smile broadened in appreciation. Her skinny jeans were tucked in ankle boots, and a loose-fitting top didn’t hide the appeal of her body as much as she probably thought. Her brown hair, brushed to a fine sheen, hung loosely about her shoulders. Pink gloss shimmered on lips he’d enjoy kissing.
But that was before. He wasn’t the same guy anymore.
“You look great.”
“I’ve been told I clean up pretty well.”
When Love Arrives Page 4
