She inhaled an unsteady breath. “I’m sorry. I get emotional when I’m sleep deprived.”
“Not to mention having your house broken into and being chased by thugs.” He set his burger down and wiped his mouth. “So Rich, one of my coworkers, has a friend who might be able to help us. Problem is, the guy’s a little hard to get in touch with.” Guy gave her a full report of his meeting with Rich and James.
“And you’re sure you gave them a cropped photograph of Brosnan and not the original one?” she asked when he finished talking.
“I’m positive.” He ate the last of his burger and balled up his foil wrapper, tossing it back into the empty bag. “Honestly, though, I don’t have high hopes of them finding Baird this weekend. His voice message indicated he was unreachable until Monday. You need to prepare yourself. It might take awhile to identify the mystery man.”
She glared at him. “How long? I leave for Rio in less than a week.”
He slumped back against the sofa cushions. “I forgot about your trip to the Olympics. Who knows how long it will take for them to get in touch with Baird? Even then, Baird may not recognize this character right away. Remember, Brosnan has virtually no online presence. And we don’t even know if he’s an American. It may be that Baird will have to do some digging.”
“Who did you say he works for?”
“I didn’t.” Guy drew in a deep breath. “He’s young, only a few years older than we are, but he has some big title with the FBI.”
Scottie sprang up, her brow puckered. “So the FBI is in on my investigation now? Don’t you think you should have checked with me first before you involved this Baird person?”
Guy stood to face her. “You involved us first, remember? Baird is our only hope. Take it or leave it.”
Scottie gathered up their trash and stomped off to the kitchen while Guy poured them an after-dinner drink—Baileys and cream on the rocks.
He handed her a glass when she returned. “I can’t afford to sit around and wait, Guy. My photographs are already yesterday’s news. They will be obsolete by the end of the weekend.”
“That’s not true in this situation. As long as they go viral before November 8…”
Something on the TV behind Guy caught her attention. “I’ve been thinking about the situation a lot while you were gone. I have another idea that involves this.” She pointed to the muted TV where CNN was running a segment about Catherine Caine’s upcoming Main Street Tour. Tastefully designed, the American flag was painted on one side of the bus, and on the other—The Caine Cruiser, Catherine Caine for President in red, white, and blue.
Guy grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned up the volume. They watched as the CNN correspondent took her viewers on a tour of the inside of the bus. A conference area, complete with leather recliners, occupied a portion of the front of the bus while the rear was used for the candidate’s personal space—including a bed for napping, a plush lavatory, a hair and makeup station, and a closet with outfits for every occasion in every style of fabric, most designed in shades of red or blue.
Guy clicked off the TV when the segment ended. “I don’t understand. How does Caine’s tricked-out tour bus fit in with your predicament?”
Scottie smiled. “Because I’m the newest Caine Groupie. The senator’s Main Street Tour starts tomorrow. Caine is traveling in her bus, making appearances on the main streets of small towns across the country. She’s starting in the Southeast and concentrating on North Carolina and Florida with stops in Virginia, South Carolina, and Georgia. I’m going to follow her tour.”
“You can’t be serious.” Guy stared at her, as though waiting for her to admit she was joking.
“I’m dead serious.” Drink in hand, she dropped back down to the sofa. “If Brosnan and Caine are involved in a romantic relationship, he will be hanging out on the periphery of the crowd, waiting for an opportunity to hook up with her again.”
“Do you realize how dangerous that could be?” He sat down beside her. “These mean men, as you call them, will be on the lookout for you. They will spot your blonde head from miles away.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. They won’t recognize me, because I’m a master when it comes to disguise.”
In truth, other than Halloween and other themed parties in college, Scottie had dressed in disguise only one time—and only a few months ago. A Rastafarian wig and ratty trench coat had protected her identity when she’d been forced to return baby Mary to her biological grandparents this past Christmas.
Guy perked up. “I like the sound of that. What kind of disguises are we talking about?” he asked as a suggestive smile played on his lips.
Scottie brought a finger to her chin. “Oh… you know, the usual. I like to dress up like a nurse or waitress, sometimes a cheerleader.”
Guy licked his lips. “This is sounding better and better. Maybe I should go on this road trip with you.”
“Ha.” Scottie threw one of the sofa pillows at him. “I don’t remember inviting you.”
“I’m inviting myself. You shouldn’t be alone. Someone needs to protect you from the mean men.”
“And you’re just the cowboy to do it?”
He glanced around the room. “Looks to me like I’m the only cowboy applying for the job.” Draping his arm across the back of the sofa, he turned to face her. “Seriously, Scottie, I might as well put my cards on the table. If we’re going to be working together, we should be honest with one another. I’m attracted to you. I have been since we met in the Richmond airport. I’ve been trying to ignore these feelings as much as I can. I don’t think that going on this trip with you is necessarily the best choice for me, but I can’t let you go alone, not with the goon platoon chasing you.”
Butterflies flitted around her stomach and her mind raced with indecent thoughts of spending time alone with him on a road-trip adventure. “I don’t understand why you having feelings for me is a problem when I feel the same way.”
“Because you’ve only been separated from your husband for a few days. I don’t want to be your rebound person.” He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. “You’re different from other girls I’ve met. I admire your passion, and your impulsive nature excites me. I’d like a chance at a meaningful relationship with you, but I don’t want to compete with ghosts from your past.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” She sipped her drink and sat in silence, overwhelmed by her emotions. Excitement. Disappointment. Relief. She knew a romantic fling between them would cloud her judgment and sidetrack her from her goals. Finally taking in a deep breath, she said, “For me, as far as my feelings for you are concerned, I can tell you that the breakup of my marriage isn’t the issue. My career is. I may never get another chance at a story like this. I can’t afford the distraction right now.”
“Staying focused is important to me as well.”
“Okay, then. Why don’t we agree to keep our relationship platonic, at least for now?”
He looked away, then turned back and gazed directly into her eyes. “All right. It won’t be easy, but I think it’s for the best.”
“Good. Now let’s get to work.” Scottie scooted to the edge of the couch and flipped open her laptop. She accessed Catherine Caine’s website. “Look at this itinerary.” She slid the computer over to him. “The senator’s schedule is brutal.”
His eyes traveled the page as he scrolled down. “Some of these towns are places I’ve always wanted to visit.” He stood and stretched. “First stop is eight o’clock tomorrow morning in Leesburg, Virginia, which is less than an hour away. Factoring in a quick shopping trip for disguises at the Wal-Mart in Tyson’s Corner, assuming they are actually open 24/7 like they advertise, we should allow for two hours, which means we need to leave here at six. I need to do some laundry first, though.”
He went into his bedroom and returned with a laundry basket. Scottie watched as he opened a pair of bifold louvered doors in the kitchen, which concealed a washing m
achine and dryer. He dumped the contents of his basket into the machine, tossed in a detergent pod, and set the controls. He opened the dryer and began folding wrinkled clothes. Impressive. Guy had done more laundry in five minutes than Scottie had seen Brad do in five years.
She drained the rest of her Baileys and rinsed her glass in the kitchen sink. “I should get going. Six o’clock will come early. Is there a decent hotel nearby?”
“You’re not going anywhere alone, not with the mean men on the loose.” He inclined his head toward his bedroom. “You can have my room. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“Are you holding me hostage?” An unsolicited image of him handcuffing her to his bed popped into her head. Geez, Scottie, retract the horns.
He beamed. “Now I like the sound of that.” When she gave him a reproachful look, he added, “Sorry. I forgot about our deal. This friends only relationship isn’t going to be easy.”
15
Scottie barely slept. And it wasn’t because she’d insisted that she sleep on the sofa, which turned out to be quite comfortable. Thoughts of Guy’s sexy body sprawled out on his bed in such close proximity to her had played in her mind throughout the night. She considered breaking her own ground rules by taking off her clothes and crawling in beside him. With such lustful thoughts, she didn’t know how she would survive traveling with him, but she needed to get a grip on her libido for the sake of her story. For the benefit of her career.
Around four o’clock, she gave into her sleeplessness and decided to get up and shower. The day ahead would be long and hot. But first she needed to retrieve the suitcase she’d left in her car. Back in Guy’s apartment, she stayed in the shower until her fingers wrinkled and the water ran cold. She dressed quickly in knee-length black yoga pants and a gray Nike workout tank, and then went to the kitchen in search of coffee. In contrast to the meager contents of his refrigerator, the assortment of K-Cup choices was large—coffee, tea, and lattes. He even had two boxes of her personal favorite—Krispy Kreme Smooth.
“You’re up early,” Guy said, joining her in the kitchen. He wore a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. His smooth muscular chest and six-pack abs nearly sent her heart into cardiac arrest.
She tried not to stare at his body, but failed. “It’s five fifteen. We need to get on the road soon.”
When he reached over her to get a K-Cup from the coffee cabinet, the earthy scent of his body filled the space between them. She stepped out of his way.
He set his K-Cup in the machine and lowered the handle to brew. “I hope you slept better than I did. Knowing your naked body was on the other side of the door made me have all kinds of stress dreams.”
She set her coffee mug down on the counter. “First of all, I slept in my clothes, as if it’s any of your business. And secondly, we aren’t going to make it out of the parking deck if we don’t put these feelings aside,” she said, as much to herself as to him.
His eyes twinkled over the rim of his mug, as he blew on his coffee.
“I’m serious, Guy. This story is important to me. You either need to play by my rules or stay at home.”
He took a sip of coffee, and then lowered his mug. “You’re right. I’m way out of line. I want to be an asset to you, not a hindrance.” He walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll just go take a cold shower. I’m sure you didn’t leave me any hot water anyway. I’ll be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
He reappeared a few minutes later looking even more scrumptious in khaki shorts and burgundy polo shirt and smelling delicious, like the Old Spice man soap her brother used. Flinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he locked the door behind them and removed her suitcase from her hand. An awkward silence filled the elevator going down. Scottie stared at the floor, doing her best to avoid looking at his muscular calves. She followed him through the lobby and into the garage.
“Where’d you park?” he asked.
“Second level,” she said and led him down the stairs.
He stopped dead in his tracks when her yellow Mini came into view. “Damn. I forgot all about your Matchbox. We can’t go on a road trip in a toy car.” He leaned down and peered inside the Mini. I can’t fit one of my legs inside that passenger compartment, let alone my big feet.”
Scottie popped the hatch and took her suitcase from him, tossing it inside. “Since you don’t have a car, I guess you’ll have to stay here.” She slammed the rear door shut.
“Hold on.” He grabbed her by the arm before she could get in the car. “We can figure something out. Let me call a friend of mine who owes me a favor.”
Scottie tapped on her watch. “You have five minutes, Guy. I’m not going to miss the first event because of you.”
Guy walked twenty feet away from her and placed his call. He returned, grinning. “Robbie is not very happy with me for waking him up at six o’clock on a Saturday morning, but he says we can use his car. Can I trust you to wait for me here while I run up and get his keys?”
She sat down on the rear bumper. “As long as you hurry.”
True to his word, Guy was back in a flash. And, although she would never admit it to him, Scottie thought Robbie’s Jeep with its leather seats and satellite radio was a much better option for extended road travel. Cruising through the light morning traffic, they made it to Tyson’s Corner in no time.
“Let’s divide and conquer,” she said. They entered the store and she headed toward the women’s department.
“Wait a minute, Scottie,” he called after her. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to buy.”
“Anything that will turn you into somebody you’re not,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the checkout counter in fifteen minutes.”
Scottie picked out hats in different shapes and sizes, an assortment of sunglasses, and bandannas in a variety of colors. When they reconvened at the checkout counter, Guy’s basket was overflowing and his smile was wide. “That was fun. I like this game.” He held up a black leather biker’s vest. “This is a good look for me, don’t you think?”
“OMG, I’ve created a monster.” She rolled her eyes, although secretly his enthusiasm pleased her.
He offered his credit card, but she insisted on paying the bill. “It’s worth whatever I have to pay to see you in that wife beater,” she said, eying the black tank top on the counter.
He placed his hand on his chest in mock horror. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me. Which is entirely against our friends without benefits rules.”
*
Scottie waited until they were on the road to Leesburg before she asked Guy why he didn’t own a car. “I mean, it’s really none of my business. Please tell me, you haven’t been arrested for drunk driving or anything like that.”
He chuckled. “How long have you been sitting on that question?”
She shrugged. “I’m just making conversation.”
He thought about it for twenty seconds. “I don’t know, truthfully. I just never got around to buying one, I guess. I had a fleet of trucks and four-wheel drives at my disposal back on the farm. I never saw the need to own a car at Chapel Hill. I always flew home to see my family. And now, since I ride the Metro or take Uber, I don’t see the point in paying expensive garage fees in DC.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
“Not much of a story there for the investigative journalist.”
“Sorry.” She turned away, looking out the window. “I didn’t realize our arrangement prohibited us from getting to know one another.”
“Lighten up, Scottie. I’m just teasing.”
Settling in to silence, they listened to Guy’s country music playlist the rest of the way to Leesburg.
“What disguise are you wearing for our first event?” Guy asked when they were five miles outside of town.
“We’re going to a political rally, Guy, not a Halloween party,” she said, cringing at the sound of her harsh tone. She couldn’t explain why she’d all of a sudden turn
ed into a bitch, especially when she knew he was teasing her. Frustration at being able to look but not touch. Irritation at having to sit on the story of the decade while she traveled all over Virginia and North Carolina verifying the facts.
The last thing she wanted was for their relationship to be hostile. If she couldn’t snap out of her snarky mood, they would both be in for a long trip. “I think we need to keep it simple this first time around.” Rummaging around in her Wal-Mart bag, she slipped a cubic zirconia engagement ring on her finger. “What do you think?” She ran her hands down her workout clothes. “Do I pass for a wealthy wife on her way to yoga class?”
He gestured at the shopping bag on the floorboard. “All that stuff you bought, and that’s the best you can do?”
“You won’t fit in at this event wearing that Harley vest, I’m sorry to say. We’re going to Loudon County, horse country, where the mean income is over a million dollars a year. Most of that is made from dividends earned from stock portfolios of the extremely wealthy.” She eyed his khaki shorts and polo shirt. “You’re dressed just right to be my husband.”
“Your husband, huh? I hope the promotion comes with perks, if you know what I mean,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
She couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous expression. “Don’t get any ideas, wise guy. You are only my pretend husband.”
He stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “If you say so.”
“Will you be serious?”
He sat up straighter in his seat. “I am being serious when I tell you to do something with your hair. You’ll stand out in the crowd with all those blonde curls.”
“Fine,” she said, knotting her blonde mane in a loose bun on the top of her head.
They arrived in Leesburg and drove around the small downtown area until they located the Caine Cruiser. Guy parallel parked on the same street two blocks away. Scottie retrieved her purse from the backseat, but left her electronics bag hidden under her Wal-Mart bag on the floorboard.
“You’re not taking your camera?” Guy asked.
Breaking the Story Page 9
