When the Storm Breaks

by Heather Lowell

  She did, however, catch sight of a table with three women ogling Sean. If he noticed their attention, it didn’t show. He just gave the room a casual scan and went back to his mineral water. From the whispers, giggles, and rib pokes, Claire could tell the women were well into their drinks and working up the courage for a more direct approach to the lone man.

  She didn’t blame them. Sean was a handsome male seated alone in a known “meet market.” He was just the type of prize some women would love to take home for the night. Pushing aside the disturbing thought, Claire looked back at her date.

  “We went on a cruise and this song was always playing on the ship, so it kind of became our song, you know?” Luis said. “Those were the good times, before I found out she wanted to see other guys. That’s why I now insist on exclusivity when I go out with a woman.”

  “Ummm,” Claire said.

  “So you’re not, like, seeing anybody else, right?”

  She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Excuse me?”

  “I told you, I have to have an exclusive relationship when I go out with a woman now. Because of what happened with Lydia. I just want to make sure we’re both very clear on that,” he said, studying her reaction carefully.

  “Luis, we are exactly”—Claire checked her watch—“sixty-six minutes into our first date. I hardly think this is the time to bring up exclusivity.”

  “So there is someone else!” Luis jabbed at her with his fork to punctuate his statement.

  “I paid to join a dating service. The whole point is to get out and date people. If you can’t handle that, let’s call it a night.”

  “No! I’m sorry, I guess I go a little crazy sometimes. Lydia left me with lots of emotional baggage, you know?”

  Personally, Claire was starting to sympathize with Lydia. “Maybe it would be best if we didn’t talk about her anymore, hmm?”

  “Sure,” he said, watching as the waiter set their dinners down. “So, have you ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged, living together, anything?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t believe that. Someone like you must have gone out with lots of guys. How come you never married any of them?”

  Excellent question. Claire finished chewing before answering, choosing her words carefully. “I came close to being engaged once, but things just didn’t work out.”

  “Yeah? Did he cheat on you, too?”

  “No, he just had different expectations. We worked together and initially kept quiet about our relationship because he wanted to. I guess that should have been a clue right away,” she said, swirling more pasta around on her fork.

  “What happened?”

  “When things got more serious, he started pressuring me to get a job with another company. He wanted to be more open about us, even assumed we would get married someday—but because he was a manager at our firm he thought it would look bad for him to be involved with a coworker. He said it might affect his climb up the corporate ladder, and he expected me to make the big change in careers to avoid that. I disagreed. Things started to fall apart after that.”

  “I hear you. It’s sort of strange when it all unravels, isn’t it? I couldn’t believe things were over with Lydia for months.”

  “It wasn’t that way for me. Now that I think about it, I really didn’t have that much invested in the relationship except time.” She’d been more embarrassed than anything else, because her private life had become fodder for office gossip.

  Glancing over toward Sean’s table, she caught him looking intently at her. Flustered, she glanced away and again saw the table of women giggling over Sean. One of the women beckoned the waiter over, whispered in his ear, and sent him off to the bar. Within a few moments, he appeared at Sean’s table with a draft beer on his tray.

  When the waiter was sent away with the beer untouched, Claire breathed a small sigh of relief.

  “What’s going on?” Luis asked her, looking around to see what she had been watching.

  “Oh, nothing much. The table of women over there sent a drink to some guy, but he sent it back.”

  “That’s how I met Lydia.” He stared into the bottom of his glass as he swirled the ice around. “She sent me a Kamikaze at a club. We got drunk and danced all night, and then I went home with her and…well.”

  And you were surprised that things didn’t work out when your relationship was based on Kamikazes and sex with a stranger? Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I hate Kamikazes,” she said flatly. “They lead straight to bad choices.”

  At the bar, Aidan snickered over his soft drink. He felt sorry for Claire, but he’d just about sprained a rib trying not to laugh out loud. As a date, the evening was a disaster, personally and professionally. Luis Cardinale seemed to be a mild-mannered guy hung up on his apparently hot ex-girlfriend, but Aidan didn’t think he was a serial killer. Still, they’d keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t have any more dangerous personality quirks.

  Confident that Claire would be safe for the evening, Aidan turned his attention to a table in the corner behind her. About an hour ago, it had been empty, with a little Reserved card sitting on its surface. Now Afton and Olivia sat consuming an enormous tray of appetizers and a large bottle of mineral water. They had come through the kitchen to be seated without drawing attention, but he’d picked up on their presence right away, as had Sean. Both women had carefully avoided making eye contact with the detectives.

  It was time to let them both know they’d been busted. Aidan lifted a hand to signal a waiter. Several minutes later, the waiter brought a nice bottle of cabernet over to the women, followed by a busboy bearing two enormous chocolate mousse cheesecake desserts. When Olivia looked inquiringly at the waiter, he turned and pointed out Aidan at the bar, glass raised in their direction.

  Olivia made a face, gestured to the waiter that it was okay, and watched warily as Aidan approached.

  “I’ll take care of pouring the wine,” Aidan said to the waiter, giving him a tip.

  “How’s it going?” Aidan asked, pulling up a chair and popping a spring roll into his mouth. Grabbing the two glasses, he poured wine to the rim in both of them.

  “I can’t drink that much,” Olivia protested. “We’re kind of working, you know?”

  “No, you’re not. It’s a good thing I like you two, or I’d haul you in for interfering with a police investigation.” Aidan set the wine down in front of them and smiled.

  “We were just worried about Claire,” Afton said.

  “She’s being watched at all times. She’s in a crowded public place,” Aidan pointed out.

  “You don’t know her like I do,” Olivia said. “I can read what she’s thinking, or tell when she’s feeling uncomfortable or threatened.”

  “So can I,” he replied, tapping his earpiece.

  “We just wanted to help.” Afton looked uncomfortable for a moment, then took a sip of the wine. She eyed the luscious chocolate dessert that had been placed in front of her and reached for a fork.

  “We, my ass. You,” Aidan said, pointing at Olivia. “You’re the instigator here. Don’t try to argue, just drink your wine and eat your dessert.”

  “What’s up with all this stuff anyway?” Olivia asked, irritated at being ordered around, but not terribly surprised.

  “The wine says you don’t need to worry about keeping a clear head. The dessert says your evening is over and it’s time to go home. Soon.” Aidan stood up and headed back to the bar.

  “Cocky bastard,” Olivia muttered as she sipped from the brimming wineglass.

  “Yes, but he’s got excellent taste. Try the chocolate.” Afton took another bite and all but purred.

  Across the room, Sean watched the exchange and realized Aidan had gotten rid of their amateur sleuths for the evening. Warily eyeing the table of increasingly rowdy women who had sent several drinks over to him, Sean wondered if they would be so easily dismissed. Luckily, he coul
d tell by the stiff way Claire smiled and the subtle shifting of her body that she was no more than two minutes away from flushing this date.

  He could also tell when she was uncomfortable, like when she caught him looking at her. If someone were watching her closely, the whole dating sting would be over. Claire just wasn’t used to hiding her feelings. She was too open and honest.

  That was one of the reasons he was finding it so difficult to work with her. When she looked at him, he could see the conflicting emotions going through her. Above all, he could see the attraction she still felt. And since he was finding it damn near impossible to ignore his own feelings, he was always on edge, certain that they were constantly on the brink of another disastrous encounter.

  Sean’s earpiece suddenly echoed with Claire’s gusty sigh. He heard Luis relating another Lydia story, this time about a trip to Hawaii he had paid for. Apparently his ex-girlfriend had spent half the nights in someone else’s hotel room, so now Luis only went Dutch on shared vacations and dates.

  Claire reached into her purse, dropped three twenties on the table, and said, “Excuse me.”

  As she headed for the rest room, she said quietly, “Fun’s over.”

  Sean flagged down the waiter to settle his bill. This time he would be the one waiting at Camelot when Claire and loser Luis came back. Then Aidan would find a way to get in the cab and strike up a conversation with Luis about life in general and women in particular.

  It wasn’t likely that the man was dangerous, but no one was betting Claire’s life on it.

  Chapter 37

  Washington, D.C.

  Saturday night

  Claire stepped out into the muggy night air and turned to say good night to Luis. Before she could say anything else, Aidan trotted up, grabbed the open door, and asked, “Mind if I share the ride?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, just got in as though he hadn’t noticed Luis crying quietly in the corner. He’d finally been overwhelmed by the ghost of Lydia. Claire was relieved that he’d waited until she was getting out of the cab to start the maudlin tears.

  “Bye, Luis,” Claire said, closing the door behind Aidan. “Good luck getting over Lydia.”

  She felt like wishing Aidan luck, too, but was afraid she’d laugh out loud at the thought of what he’d have to go through during his ride. It only seemed fair that someone should suffer along with her. She waved after the cab as it pulled away from the curb, then turned to face Sean. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans watching her. She could tell by the angelic look on his face that he was dying to make some kind of nasty comment about her date.

  “Not one word,” she said. “Where are you parked? I’m not waiting for Aidan to take me home, because he could be hours. Somehow I don’t think Luis has gone through all of his Lydia stories yet.”

  Sean snickered. “Even if he has, Aidan will just get to hear the good ones again.”

  Claire laughed and got into the front of Sean’s truck. She eased her aching feet out of the tiny sandals she’d worn and leaned against the seat. “Thank God I won’t be seeing him again.” She tilted her head to look at Sean as she drove. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring one of your friends with you.”

  “Huh?” Sean said, distracted by the smell of Claire’s perfume.

  “You know, the women who sent you drinks all evening.”

  “Oh, them.” He shrugged. “They were just having a night out, sucking up too much tequila and egging each other on. I don’t take it personally.”

  Claire stared. He actually meant it. “How do you take it?”

  “They were just goofing around. I was the only single guy in the dining area.”

  “Aidan was there, and he didn’t get hit on.”

  “Yeah, but he was over at the bar. Besides, he was watching Olivia and Afton most of the evening. The other women could probably tell he was otherwise engaged.”

  Claire just shook her head. Unbelievable. He didn’t have a clue as to how attractive he was. “Whatever. Where do we meet tomorrow night?”

  “Afton’s office. You have a date with the congressional staffer tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah. Can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it.”

  “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it,” Sean reminded her, grinning.

  “I didn’t think I’d be having dinner with the ghosts of girlfriends past. Luis needs an exorcist, not a dating service.”

  Sean laughed as he pulled up to the curb at Afton’s house. Smiling slightly, Claire watched him. Somehow, she couldn’t see him in Luis’s position—more involved emotionally than the other party in the relationship. She didn’t see Sean Richter mooning over anyone.

  However, she might find herself in those shoes in the near future if she wasn’t able to get a handle on her thoughts and stop comparing all her dates to Sean. Of course, it was kind of hard to stop comparing when he was no more than twenty feet away from her throughout the night, staring right at her.

  Sean walked her to the door. She didn’t invite him in because there was no official reason to prolong the contact. Olivia was inside, and the house had already been checked by one of the surveillance officers.

  “Lock the door behind you,” Sean said, and left without a backwards glance.

  Watching Sean’s taillights disappear through the window, Claire decided that she’d better grow thicker skin if she was going to continue with this dating game under the cool, watchful blue eyes of Detective Richter.

  With her thoughts focused on Sean, Claire didn’t notice the nondescript sedan that hesitated slightly, then drove past Afton’s house.

  Chapter 38

  Washington, D.C.

  Saturday night

  The man braked at a dimly lit stop sign and ran his hands around the steering wheel, thinking about Marie Claire. She was going out to dinner with different men, but she had a police escort during and after each date. His lips twisted up at the corners. She must have really been rattled by his gift.

  He’d enjoyed watching her, but would have to leave his sweet prey to her cops and boyfriends for a few days. Just when he’d decided he couldn’t wait any longer for Marie Claire, fate had presented him with an outlet for his needs. All he had to do was a little groundwork before he could feel that lovely blade plunging into his next convenient victim. Then, refreshed and patient again, he’d return to stalking his beautiful prey.

  “Good night, Marie Claire. Sleep well. I want you strong when we meet again.”

  Chapter 39

  Washington, D.C.

  Sunday evening

  Claire walked into Afton’s office Sunday evening and was greeted by a long whistle from Aidan. Smiling at him, she turned around, showing off the itsy-bitsy red dress she was wearing for her third date.

  Sean lost all cognitive function as he looked at the crimson sheath that hugged Claire’s soft curves, leaving her arms and shoulders completely bare. The heart-stopping sway of her rounded hips was accentuated by the black heels she was wearing, which matched the tiny leather evening bag she carried. When her back was to him, he saw that the dress hugged her butt so lovingly he actually clenched his hands at the memory of how it had felt to hold that same flesh.

  “Wow,” Aidan said.

  Claire grinned. “Livvie picked it out for me today. She said that if this dress didn’t have my date drooling on the floor and confessing his sins to the police, nothing would.”

  “She was right,” Sean muttered.

  “Your hair looks great, too,” Afton said. “I’ve never seen it down before.” She admired the cloud of curls that Olivia and Claire had spent the better part of an hour taming into a loose style around her bare shoulders.

  “Thanks. Livvie’s idea again.”

  Livvie is going to be the death of me. Sean took what felt like his first breath since Claire had walked in the room. When all heads turned toward him, he realized he must have sounded like someone surfacing after a deep dive. Claire tilt
ed her head inquiringly at him.

  “You look nice,” Sean said, his voice sounding rusty.

  She felt a little tug of annoyance at the lukewarm compliment. Then she remembered her determination to ignore him this evening and focus on charming her date. She’d been looking forward to this all day, and she wouldn’t let Sean ruin things before the night had even started.

  “You’re too kind.” With an irritated shimmy, she settled her dress in place.

  All the blood in Sean’s head went to his crotch. He forced himself to look away from her breasts, which were as lovingly cupped by the dress as her butt was. Then he risked another look at her. Jesus. “Where in hell are the microphone and transmitter?”

  “The microphone is here,” Claire said, running her index finger lightly over the shadow between her breasts. “And the transmitter is—”

  “Forget I asked,” Sean cut in, heading for the door. “I’ll get your damned table at the restaurant.”

  Chapter 40

  Washington, D.C.

  Sunday night

  Billy Green, a congressional staffer from Dubuque, Iowa, was the most entertaining dinner companion Claire had had in years. He was smart, funny, well-read, and a genuinely nice human being. He shared several of her interests, including cardio kickboxing and abstract modern art.

  It’s too bad he’s gay. And it’s really too bad that he hasn’t figured it out yet.

  Claire took a sip of the excellent Chardonnay her date had recommended. She focused on him again as he finished telling about his disastrous first day on the Hill, when he’d lost his congressman’s speech and then accidentally deleted the database of constituents who had made donations during a fund-raising dinner.

  “Then I was in a meeting and asked someone I didn’t recognize where the bathroom was. Turns out he was a very senior member of the Senate, and here I was telling him I had to pee like a racehorse.”