Four
“What’s wrong with you?”
Norah stared at Dash, not sure exactly what he was referring to. Without more information, she wasn’t able to answer his question, especially in her current overtired condition. With Devon Leifsen invading her computer, her privacy, her favorite coffee shop, and now her bank account, she’d lain awake all night, jumping at every creak of the old house. Even after she’d given up and scurried to Cara’s room to take Charlie’s empty bed, she’d still been unable to sleep. Now her brain was too muzzy to work right, so she just flat out asked, “Can you be more specific?”
He started wrapping her hands and wrists again, and she tried to concentrate on his technique so she could imitate it at their next session. Her sleep-deprived state made this difficult, especially since his efficient yet gentle touch lulled her into a comfortable haze. Normally, she didn’t mind—even preferred—a regular lack of human contact, but she was starting to understand a little more clearly why some people were touchers. The brushes of skin against skin awoke a raw ache inside her that seemed to both worsen and improve with more contact. Odd.
His grumbly voice brought her out of her musings. “Why are you so out of it? Can’t sleep?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Insomnia?”
“No. I usually don’t have trouble sleeping.” A yawn interrupted her answer. “Just last night.”
His hands paused. “What happened last night?”
There was a deep stillness to him that caught her attention, even as sleepy and distracted as she was. Studying him, she was quiet for several beats before she realized he was waiting for her explanation. There was a solidness to him, a security, that made her think she could tell him anything. She didn’t even hesitate before the truth spilled out of her mouth. “A skip keeps hacking into my computer.”
His expression barely moved, just a slight narrowing of his eyes and hardening of his mouth, but Norah suddenly spotted his inner badger. “Skip?” was all he said, but his voice was so silky in the deadliest way that she felt her eyes widen, and contrarily, she started to smile. Sometime during their eight and one-tenth training sessions, she’d decided she liked Dashiell Porter, and his protectiveness warmed her insides.
“I do research for my family’s bail-recovery business,” she explained.
He gave a bare nod that was just the slightest lift of his chin. His lack of confusion or surprise made her wonder if he already knew. She hadn’t told him what their family business was before—except for a brief mention of the possibility of her sisters getting shot or blown up—so she deduced that he’d researched her. She didn’t mind. In fact, she approved. After all, she’d done the same to him before she’d even walked into his gym.
“You do research. That means you don’t have any contact with bail jumpers,” he said, that silky edge still in his voice.
“I don’t—usually.” She had to qualify it in order to be honest. After all, the occasional meetings with skips were why she was here, learning to protect herself and her sisters. “This wasn’t actual face-to-face contact though.”
“This one hacked your computer?” Holding eye contact with her, he finished wrapping her hands without looking, something she found disproportionately impressive.
“Yes,” she said, pushing her hand into the boxing glove he held open for her.
“Why?” He helped her put on the second glove.
“I don’t know.” She’d thought about it a lot, especially while she couldn’t sleep last night, but she hadn’t reached any conclusions. “I did a complete system check, and he didn’t access any of my files. All he does is…chat.”
“Chat?” The way he spat out the innocuous word made it sound almost brutal.
“Yes. He introduced himself. With smiley faces. And waves. Then last night, he deposited $5.61 into my account.”
He was grimly silent for several moments as she waited patiently for his response. “I don’t like this,” he finally said.
“Me neither.” Her home and her computer were her sanctuaries. Leifsen had violated her sense of safety in both of them.
“What’s his name?”
She considered him as she absently bumped her padded gloves together. The muffled contact was an interesting sensation. “What are you planning to do with this information?”
“Find him. Have a chat.”
There was a slight edge to the word “chat” that made her fairly certain Dash meant “punch” instead. As appealing as that sounded, she reluctantly shook her head. “My sisters and I need to find him first. What you want to do would be very satisfying, but it would almost certainly cause him to leave town quickly. My sisters have had to take too many trips lately.”
“I could find him, have a chat, and then dump him on your doorstep so your sisters could bring him in.”
She considered that. “You won’t make it obvious that you’re searching for him? Skips are harder to find if they’re spooked.”
Dash looked offended. “I can be subtle.”
Looking at his huge form and the brutal, slashing lines of his face, she had a hard time imagining that. If she heard even a whisper of a rumor that Dash was out for her blood, she’d leave town—and the state—so fast there’d be a cartoon-style dust cloud in her wake.
When her silence went on for too long, his scowl deepened. “I can . He won’t even know I’m searching for him until I pounce.”
She paused. “How hard are you planning on pouncing?”
He studied her face as if checking what he’d be able to get away with. “A moderate pouncing?”
Norah was tempted—her sister had almost died after all, and Leifsen had very likely been partially responsible—but her conscience niggled at her.
He must’ve read her face, since he gave a disappointed huff. On anyone else, his expression would’ve been a pout. “Fine. A light pouncing.”
“Okay,” she agreed. He seemed so solid and reliable that every word out of his mouth had a sincere ring to it. “But if you spook him and he runs, you’re the one going to New Jersey or Tasmania or Mars to pick him up.”
His scowl disappeared as a rare smile touched his mouth so quickly that she wondered if she’d just imagined it. “Deal. Name?”
“Devon Leifsen.”
“Got it.” The badger look was back, and Norah felt a bit worried for Leifsen but more gleeful that the hacker was going to get at least some of what was coming to him. After all, Dash had promised to take it easy on him. “Ready to hit something?”
Perfect. She could pretend the punching bag had Leifsen’s face on it and get some revenge for her terror and sleepless night. “Very.”
***
By the time she got home, Norah was a little concerned about her decision to give Leifsen’s name to Dash. All she had was Dash’s word that he wouldn’t scare off Leifsen. She and her sisters had to keep Barney happy, at least until Charlie, Felicity, and Bennett dragged Jane back in time for her first court appearance. Besides, her sisters didn’t even know about Leifsen stalking her. Norah had always shared everything with them, and keeping this a secret—even though her motives were good—seemed extra wrong now that she’d told Dash.
She stewed about it all afternoon as she closed her checking account and reopened a new one. It continued bothering her as she reviewed Leifsen’s file yet again, staying disconnected from the internet. Even sitting at family dinner that evening, she was still tightly wound, vacillating between aggravation and a growing sense of guilt.
“Sooo…” She dragged out the word.
Molly and John, along with Cara and her boyfriend, Henry, immediately gave her their full attention.
Since she’d only said the one word, Norah figured her tone must’ve tipped everyone off that she was about to say something momentous…or at least moderately interesting. Being the sudden focus of four people nearly startled her into forgetting what she was going to say, but she managed to get the words out with only a slight stammer. “I–I might have done something…um…well, unadvisable.”
John’s eyes lit up. “ You did something unadvisable?”
Her only response was a grimace.
“Well?” John asked. “What was it, little sister? Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Norah was already regretting mentioning it, but it was too late to back out. Even though John was the only one pressing her for an explanation, the others looked just as eager to hear what she’d done. In fact, as she allowed the pause to lengthen, she could see the interest in their expressions intensify. She groaned, stabbing at her chicken breast. “Dash—the trainer I’m working with?”
“His name’s Dash ?” Molly grinned. “That’s such a great name.”
“Does Dash have sinewy hands?” Cara asked, making Norah’s face inexplicably warm. The only good thing was that both guys turned their heads to stare at Cara, taking some of the heat off Norah.
“Why are you asking that?” Henry lifted his hands, flipping them over to examine both sides. “What does that even mean?”
“That boxing movie we watched?” Cara reminded him. “The one with the hot boxing trainer and all the touching? He had the best hands.” Glancing at his face, she cleared her throat. “ Second best hands, I meant.”
Ignoring their interaction as well as Molly’s and John’s muffled snickers, Norah forged ahead with her story. Now that she’d started, she knew she had to finish. If she didn’t get it all out immediately, the conversation could take hours, and she had some more research to do that night. The day without internet had put her behind. “I told Dash the skip’s name,” she blurted out.
Everyone quit talking about sinewy hands and paid attention. That was one good thing about usually staying quiet, Norah figured. When she did talk, everyone shut up and listened.
“Why?” Molly asked.
“And why’s that a problem?” Cara asked before Norah could answer Molly. “Unless he moonlights as a bounty hunter?”
Realizing that it was time to tell her sisters about Leifsen’s stalking, Norah organized the story in her mind before speaking. “The skip has been hacking into my computer, and last night, he accessed my bank account.”
That was all she managed to get out before everyone was talking at once.
“What?”
“Your computer? Don’t you have a virtual jungle of impenetrable security on that thing?”
“Why?”
“Your bank account? Did he clear it out?”
“Which guy is this?”
“Barney’s skip?”
“What did he do after he got in?”
Holding up her hands, Norah waited until the questions trailed off into silence before she answered the last one asked. “He introduced himself, and he just chats. Last night, he put enough money in my account to cover my hot chocolate at Chico’s.”
There was a pause before John said, “That’s…ah…polite, I guess? Who is this guy?”
Molly gave a short shake of her head. “More creepy than polite. He’s a hacker, one of Barney’s bail jumpers. Devon Leifsen. Norah’s been looking into him. Have you contacted the bank about your account?”
“Of course,” Norah answered, a little offended that her sister had to ask.
“My stalker alarm is blaring,” Cara said, sharing a concerned look with Molly. “And not the cute kind of stalker that Bennett started out being. What did Leifsen say exactly?”
Even though she’d tried to erase the event from her mind, Norah remembered every word. She recounted the gist of the conversations as the other four listened with growing frowns.
“He’s challenging you.” Henry was the first one to speak after she finished. “Reminds me of the way some serial killers make contact with law enforcement, trying to turn it into a game.”
Norah widened her eyes as she stared at Henry. “It’s reassuring that he’s following the serial killer handbook.”
Giving her a rare smile, Henry said, “I doubt he’s killed anyone…directly at least. I’m guessing he sees you as his worthiest adversary and wants the same sort of cat-and-mouse interaction with you. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone, so he imagines himself running circles around you as you try to catch him.”
“ I don’t want to catch him,” Norah protested. “Not in a confronting-and-cuffing way. I’ll leave that to you two.” She waved, indicating Molly and John. As much as she wanted to protect her sisters by dealing with Leifsen herself, she realized how far outside her skill set bringing him in on her own would be. She could find him, but physically chasing him down and tackling him? She knew she would just get in the way if she tried. Pushing away the thought that she was a failure, she reminded herself that there was a reason all her sisters worked for their business. They each had different strengths, and together they were unbeatable.
“Until we bring Leifsen in, I think we should use the buddy system.” Molly had a line between her brows, a clear indicator of how upset she was. She was leaning forward in her chair, the food in front of her forgotten, and John rubbed circles on her back. “No leaving the house alone.” She was looking at Norah but then added, “That goes for everyone.”
Clearing her throat, Cara said, “As someone who was snatched out of this very house…”
“Gah. You’re right.” Molly grimaced and then got a familiar determined expression.
Norah knew that look. Molly was in full-on protective older sister mode.
“No leaving alone or staying at the house alone. Buddy system’s mandatory wherever you—we—are.”
Norah swallowed a groan. She should’ve known that sharing the Leifsen situation would lead to full lockdowns.
Still rubbing Molly’s back, John gave a slow grin. “I like this plan. Figure I’ll take advantage of that time-share I have.”
“What?” Norah was confused. “You’re going on vacation?”
A hint of red touched Molly’s tan cheeks. “No. He’s talking about my bedroom. He’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is.”
John’s grin widened. “Actually, I’m funnier.”
“Let’s go back to this very bad buddy system idea,” Cara said, and Norah gave a nod of agreement.
The thought of having one of her sisters—or worse, Henry or John—along when she went to one of her training sessions with Dash made Norah cringe with preemptive embarrassment. Everything seemed to be snowballing, making her wish she’d kept her mouth shut. Leifsen hadn’t done anything dangerous yet, and she had Dash to help her. Instantly, she felt guilty for wishing she’d kept the secret from her sisters. It was just that everything was getting so complicated .
“It’s not practical to drag someone else to all my classes,” Cara said. “I’m not forcing anyone else to sit through a two-hour lecture on the psychology of education. That’d just be cruel. Besides, we should focus more on protecting Norah, since she’s Leifsen’s target.”
“I know it’s not ideal,” Molly said.
From the firm set of her chin, Norah knew her sister was going to dig in. When it came to the safety of her family members, Molly could be unyieldingly stubborn.
“But—”
“I— we —can all carry pepper spray,” Norah blurted, not caring if she sounded desperate. She was desperate. She liked her training sessions with Dash, how strong they made her feel, and she didn’t want to cancel them until they rounded up the troublesome Devon Leifsen, which could take weeks . Bringing a sister along to the gym wasn’t going to happen, however. She would be teased for infinity, and even an audience of one would rob her of any sort of concentration. “Tasers too. And we can stay in public areas when we’re out.”
“We should make sure to keep our phones within easy reach,” Cara added, taking some of the focus off Norah, to her relief. “I learned my lesson the hard way about having a cell handy.” When she shivered, Henry covered her hand with his and squeezed. Cara offered him a grateful smile.
Norah felt a slight twist in her gut. It wasn’t jealousy, really. She didn’t want Henry for herself, but she had to admit she wanted what he and Cara had, their easy closeness. She wondered what it would be like to have a person who looked at her like she was their whole world.
“How about regular text check-ins?” Norah racked her brain for other options, but Molly hadn’t lost her look of determination yet, and she was starting to despair.
“I like the buddy system,” John said, wrapping a huge arm around Molly and hugging her against his side. With a surprised grunt, Molly grabbed his shirt to catch her balance as the motion nearly slid her off her chair. “Just think, Pax. You and me together constantly, twenty-four seven, not a moment apart for days, weeks even. It’ll be like a honeymoon but with more togetherness. Constant togetherness.”
“Urgh.” The sound Molly made was disgruntled, but Norah noticed she tugged her chair closer to John’s rather than trying to escape his enveloping hug. “Fine. No buddy system. Phones, Tasers, pepper spray, and check-ins.”
Relief filled Norah, and it was hard holding back a delighted laugh when she caught the subtle wink John threw in her direction. Her sister’s boyfriend acted like an easygoing goof most of the time, but he noticed things, and he had Molly pretty well figured out. It wasn’t really a surprise, since he spent most of his time focused on her. A tiny twang of envy pinged through Norah again, but she ignored it.
Molly leaned forward, her gaze intense on Norah. “I know we all tease Bennett by calling him a stalker, but you can see how this is different, right? Bennett respected Felicity’s boundaries, even at the beginning, when he was just a PI tailing her in hopes of finding Mom. Leifsen blasted through your legal and personal boundaries so hard, he left a Kool-Aid-man-shaped hole in them.”
“I know they’re not the same.”
“Good.” Molly sat back into the curve of John’s arm. “And you’ll follow the safety precautions, no exceptions or whining?”
Norah was about to agree to Molly’s terms when the doorbell interrupted her.
They all went still. Norah tried to avoid answering the door as a general life rule, but Cara had a good reason for going pale and stiff at the chiming sound. After all, the doorbell had sounded the start of her kidnapping.
Molly extracted herself from John’s hold and stood. “I’ll get that.”
As she moved out of the kitchen, John followed closely. Norah, Cara, and Henry stayed silent, listening as the two crossed the living room to the front door. Norah felt a bit silly, since Cara—and even Henry, by association—had a good reason to be tense about visitors, but Norah didn’t have that excuse. She just had her ingrained hermit-like tendencies to blame. From her spot at the table, she couldn’t see the front door, so she strained her ears to hear what the new arrival was saying.
“Can we help you?” Molly asked, sounding cautious but not overly concerned.
“Hi!” The bubbly voice was oddly familiar, and Norah frowned as she ran through her mental databases, trying to remember where she’d heard it before. “Is Norah home?”
Cara and Henry looked at her, their eyebrows raised in exactly the same way. Norah wanted to laugh at how quickly they’d become that couple, but she was too preoccupied with trying to place the woman.
“Depends.” That was John, his happy-go-lucky tone not hiding the implacable thread of steel in that one word. “Who are you?”
“Laken Albee.” Despite the familiarity of her voice, the name still came as a shock. “Norah and I are friends from way back.”
“Isn’t that the girl who picked on you in high school?” Cara whispered, her eyes sparking with mama-bear fierceness.
“No. She mostly just ignored me in high school.” The need to be completely honest made Norah amend her answer. “She picked on me in junior high.” From Cara’s expression, the distinction didn’t help.
“Maybe she wants to make amends,” Henry suggested, giving a small shrug when they both looked at him doubtfully. “Most of us were nasty little beasts in junior high.”
Cara’s scowl deepened. “Did you used to be a bully?”
“No,” he said, although he frowned. “I was always a sucker for the underdog, but I did other things I’m not proud of. Plus, I didn’t discover deodorant until I was fourteen. That’s a crime against my classmates right there.”
“Hey, Norah.” Molly’s voice in the kitchen doorway pulled her attention away from Henry and Cara. “Laken Albee is here to see you. Want me to tell her to go away?” From her protective expression, she’d remembered Laken’s name just like Cara had.
It was tempting to have her sister run Laken off for her, but Norah decided to act like a grown-up. After all, Henry might be right. Maybe Laken had a change of heart and wanted to make amends for what an unpleasant little brat she’d been a decade ago. They were both adults now. They should be able to have a civil conversation. It was just that Norah didn’t really enjoy having conversations with near strangers, civil or not.
When Molly gave a nod and turned back toward the door, wearing her fiercest expression, Norah knew she’d hesitated too long. Holding back a groan, she shook her head. “I’ll talk to her.” Standing, she moved to the entrance to the living room and frowned when she saw the closed door. “Did you shut her out on the porch?”
“Of course,” Molly said. “Cops, vampires, and junior-high bullies. Never invite them inside. Life rule number seventeen.”
“That’s a good rule.” John’s face was completely serious as he gave an approving tip of his chin.
His solemnness almost made Norah laugh, but the unpleasant task of talking to Laken killed her amusement. Straightening her shoulders, she tried to channel some of the toughness she felt when she was blocking Dash’s punches or pummeling the heavy bag. Despite this, her stomach still churned as she walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, she pulled it open, revealing the grown-up version of her junior-high nemesis.
“Norah!” Laken crowed, her expression changing from irritation at being left on the porch to bright enthusiasm. “Look at you! You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Hi, Laken.” Norah eyed the woman through the screen door before forcing herself to step out onto the porch to join her. “You’ve chang— oof .” Her comment was cut off as Laken grabbed her in a tight hug. Norah’s hands hovered over Laken’s shoulders as she debated whether to just let them be or give the woman a few back pats. Laken’s perfume wasn’t bad, but it was strong, and Norah felt her lungs tighten in warning. She hurried to step back before the scent could trigger her asthma. Laken clung to her for another awkward, endless moment before finally releasing her.
Digging her albuterol inhaler out of her pocket, Norah took a puff as she put several feet of space between them. She hadn’t started wheezing yet, but better to be safe than sorry.
“Oh, there’s the Norah I remember,” Laken cooed, as if chronic asthma could be sentimental.
“What are you doing here?” It probably wasn’t the most tactful thing Norah could have asked, but she was feeling off-balance, and her social skills weren’t the best even on her most comfortable days. It was a bit surreal to have her junior-high nemesis on her front porch, and it was throwing Norah off her game even more than usual.
“Just visiting some friends.” Laken gave a casual wave as she leaned against the porch railing. “We were talking about you, so I thought I’d look you up.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Norah asked, her shoulders stiff with tension. She didn’t even try to lean against the railing, since she knew her awkward pose would expose just how uncomfortable she was. Besides, after her sleepless night, she was feeling rather exposed and vulnerable, and hearing that some random strangers were discussing her was not reassuring in the least.
Giving another wave—a backhanded one this time—Laken gave a chiming laugh that tensed Norah up even more. She’d heard that laugh too many times, and it had often been directed at her. “Just some friends from school. It was like a mini reunion at Dutch’s the other night. I was having drinks with Kenslee, and then Carson and Pike showed up… Anyway, someone mentioned that your family still lived here, so I thought I’d swing by to catch up.”
“How did my name come up?” Norah was even more suspicious after Laken’s rambling nonexplanation. “I highly doubt that I’m a frequent subject of conversation between you and Kenslee.”
Laken’s face scrunched in a grimace of discomfort just for a moment before her expression smoothed back into unbothered perfection. “Langston isn’t that big. We’re able to get around to everyone on a pretty regular basis. Besides…” Her gaze dropped in a way that seemed abashed on the surface, but Laken’s underlying note of slyness made Norah brace for the verbal hit. “Honey, you have to know everyone’s talking about…well, your mom.”
Norah had no response to that. Of course everyone knew about Jane’s latest—and greatest—crime, and of course all the kids who’d picked on her in school had grown into adults who gossiped gleefully about them. She had no doubt that Laken and her friends knew every painful detail—that Jane had stolen a valuable necklace, that she’d used their family home as collateral for her bail, that she’d bolted the moment she was out of jail, that Norah and her sisters were frantically trying to track her down and drag her home before they were evicted.
Her spine felt as brittle and cold as an icicle. She searched for words, knowing that every second her silence stretched, it was more and more obvious Norah actually cared what Laken and Kenslee and their whole group said about her. All she could muster was a low grunt, a huh that she hoped sounded more unconcerned than panicked.
“So.” Laken clapped her hands together, making Norah jump. “You have to come to Dutch’s with me tonight. Everyone’s meeting us there. It’ll be like we’re sixteen again—except our IDs will be legal this time.”
Laken gave another one of her musical laughs, and Norah shuddered again. Her reaction to the sound was so Pavlovian that she might have smiled in any other circumstances, but right then, she was so aghast at Laken’s invitation she couldn’t find the tiniest bit of humor in anything.
“Have some drinks, set the record straight about your mother, dance a little…” Laken grabbed Norah’s arm and gave it an enthusiastic shake. “We’re going to have so much fun!”
No no no no no no no no … Norah’s brain repeated the short refrain until she realized a few of those noes had escaped her lips, and Laken was staring at her, that perfectly full and made-up mouth open in a slightly startled O. “Uh…sorry.” Norah knew she had to explain what she meant. There were regular Norah levels of rudeness, and then there were just plain unacceptable levels of rudeness. “I just…um…have to work today. Tonight. Today and tonight. Big case. No time to dance and…well, talk. To everyone.” Deliberately, she pressed her lips together, attempting to keep more nonsensical words from escaping her mouth. What was it about Laken Albee that turned Norah into that awkward junior-high student again?
“Oh.” Laken’s mouth drooped at the corners in a way that would’ve convinced Norah Laken was truly sad, except that years of daily interactions with a teenage Laken had taught her better. “But we’ll miss you. Isn’t there any way you could get out of work?”
“No.” Norah gave a shrug and attempted to look disappointed to soften her bald refusal. “You caught us at a busy time.”
That gleam from earlier returned to Laken’s gaze, making Norah immediately regret mentioning how busy they were. After all, it was only because half their workforce was chasing down their mom, plus the jobs Barney insisted they do, plus the fact that they’d need as much cash as possible over the next few weeks and months if Barney ended up yanking their house out from underneath them, and she wasn’t about to share any of these facts with Laken Albee of all people.
“Well, I’m going to have to insist on getting together before I leave.” Laken pushed her lips out in a pout.
Norah felt the prickle of nervous sweat on the back of her neck. If Laken wasn’t giving up, that meant the odds were high that Norah would end up partying with her former classmates very soon. She was terrible at turning people down. She racked her brain for excuses to allow her escape from the social scene, but panic made her mind blank.
“How about coffee?”
Laken’s suggestion was so unexpectedly simple and almost not horrible compared to partying with a crowd of her high-school nemeses at Dutch’s of all places that Norah found herself not hating the idea. Besides, she’d stepped out of her comfort zone with Chloe, and she’d managed to possibly get a new friend—or at least a lead to Leifsen—out of it. Maybe she should give Laken a chance. “Okay.”
“Great!” Laken gave her a wide-eyed, excited look as if she was just as surprised by her acceptance as Norah was. “Ten a.m. tomorrow?”
“I can’t at ten.” The thought of Dash and her next training session made her smile, if only for a split second. The sensations she felt when Dash popped into her mind were novel. She’d never experienced warm, fluttery feelings like this before, and she wondered if this was what a crush felt like.
“Oh? Why not? What was that smile for?” Laken’s coy questions were like a spray of Raid, immediately killing off every butterfly dancing in Norah’s stomach, and she felt her smile slip away as the other woman continued throwing out questions. “Are you doing something fun? Can I come?”
Laken’s casual nosiness made Norah’s eyebrows shoot up—along with her anxiety level. The thought of bringing Laken along to her training session was even more horrifying than the idea of one of Norah’s sisters accompanying her. “Gynecological exam.” The words were out before the heat in her cheeks caught up.
Despite the embarrassment, Laken’s taken-aback expression made Norah give an amused snort. She’d obviously chosen the right fake excuse if it had knocked Laken back a few steps.
“Before that then.” To Norah’s dismay, Laken wasn’t slapped down for long. “I’ll see you at the Java Bean around nine.”
No good excuse came to mind, so Norah let all the air out of her lungs in defeat. “Sounds…” She couldn’t say good , because it wasn’t good. Not at all. “Sounds like a plan.”
As Laken beamed, Norah tried to hide her dismay. She was already dreading the next morning.
***