Chapter 3 #2
Berkley knew she preferred to Uber and just nodded. “I need to use the restroom, but we’ll talk later.”
When she stepped back into the main room of the mint green and pink restaurant, Kendall was long gone, and their server was seating two familiar faces at the table they’d just been at. Just in time to grab something because the place closed at two.
Today of all days she had to run into Nick and Clover Storm. She actually liked the latter, but Nick…ugh.
She gave a warm smile to Clover, but had to mask her irritation at the sight of Clover’s older brother Nick. Seriously, what a dumb name. Nick Storm. Sounded like a stupid, B-movie superhero.
Unfortunately, he was good-looking enough to be an A-list superhero. Their parents had made some ridiculously beautiful kids. Tall, athletic, looked as if they should be on ads for the latest winter sport.
Too bad Nick had the personality of a rock. Or toast.
The first time she’d met him—spilled coffee on him—he’d been open and warm, and whew, talk about giving her butterflies.
The kind she’d only ever read about before.
But then it was like he’d flipped a switch and turned into a…
Maybe not an asshole, but at least an assface.
It had been a year and she still remembered how he’d made her feel that day.
She gave him a bland not-really-a-smile before turning back to Clover with a real one. “Fun running into you here.”
“I’m trying the waffle board you raved about.” Clover grinned, her smile so warm and genuine it made it impossible for Berkley to not return it.
“You won’t be disappointed. So we still on for tomorrow?” She hadn’t heard any different, but right about now she needed to talk so they wouldn’t lapse into any awkward pauses.
Because Nick was just staring straight ahead, not even looking at her. Nope, he rarely deigned to turn those gunmetal gray eyes on her. He was friendly with her ex-husband—who had saved Clover’s life with emergency surgery—so she kind of understood why he was frosty to her.
But he was the one who’d asked for her number then just…not called. It wasn’t like she’d ghosted him or anything. Now he acted as if she’d personally wronged him in life.
That was why it was a surprise that his sister had reached out to Berkley about a job.
And it was clearly a surprise to Nick because his head finally jerked up to look between them.
She refused to look at him again, just kept a smile in place as Clover nodded.
“Oh yeah. Livie Zamora is obsessed with the job you did for her, is telling everyone how amazing you are.”
Berkley felt her cheeks flush under the praise, something she was still getting used to.
She’d spent her younger years getting into trouble and was known for being the “wild Knight.” Now she had a respectable job as owner of a full-service estate clean out company for larger homes.
She handled everything from the cleanouts, right down to sorting and pricing items for online auctions.
She even staged homes in the case people wanted to sell their home after a clean out.
People who had once looked down on her treated her completely differently now.
She was grateful for the second chance and loved her job, but it was still surreal sometimes.
When she started to respond, Nick cleared his throat. “We need to order before they start closing down the kitchen.”
Okay then, talk about a not-subtle hint. “Ah, right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She still didn’t look at him, just gave Clover a warm smile before heading out.
Cold rushed over her as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. At least the sun was bright, a nice balance to the iciness wrapping around her. And for a moment she could just focus on how much she wanted to wipe that stupid “I’m better than you” look off Nick Storm’s face.
He and his perfect jawline, gorgeous cheekbones and eyelashes so thick she’d have probably sold part of her soul to have. A man that gorgeous was naturally a giant asshole. He loved his sister though, she’d give him that.
But that was all she’d give him.
Aaaand that was enough of that because she had way more important shit to worry about than some handsome asshole who got under her skin.
Like the dead guy whose home she’d woken up in that morning. Apparently no one had seen her leave with him. Or more likely be abducted by…him? Someone else?
There was no way she would have left all her stuff behind like that. Her keys, purse, phone… And the back of her skull still ached. So she’d definitely been either taken by him or someone else. But why? Other than the obvious.
But she hadn’t been sexually assaulted. Or she was ninety-nine percent sure she hadn’t been. Her clothes were still intact, she wasn’t sore, and the biggest clue—she’d still had a tampon in when she’d gone to the bathroom after her brother had picked her up.
So why had she been in James Reed’s home? Why was he dead? And who had killed him? And…was someone trying to frame her? Or implicate her?
She had no real enemies—except her ex-husband.