Chapter 15 #2
Wiping my eyes, I sat up straight and opened my browser to start the search for pawn shops.
“Peyton?” Terry took the chair next to my desk.
I minimized the browser with a sniff. “Hi.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I choked out. “Except I threw up.”
He’d certainly heard the discussion in the restroom.
“Why did you lie about breakfast? Duke told me you had Zane’s mom’s pancakes, not tuna casserole.”
Quick, Peyton, think. “I thought it would be bad manners to blame his mother’s cooking.” I even managed to say it like I meant it.
He appraised me for a second. His brow crease said he didn’t believe me. Damn these Hawk people and their ability to detect lies. He patted the desk and rose. “If you need anything, you only have to say the word. You know that, right?”
I nodded. “Of course.” He’d always been a stand-up guy. “What I need now is to get back to my work.” In reality, I was afraid I’d break if I had to lie to him again.
He sauntered back to his desk, and I brought my browser window up again.
I’d never sold jewelry before, but in the movies, that was how you turned excess belongings into cash.
Constance Collier from Hawk arrived. She looked my way briefly before zeroing in on Terry and striding toward him.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to walk with her confidence. She was one take-no-shit little lady.
I giggled to myself, imagining I’d had her talents when the Strangler attacked me. I bet then I could have made him pay. Chop, chop, kick. Constance probably knew a dozen ways to take the guy down. As a Secret Service agent, she’d probably practiced on men all the time.
Going back to my screen, B-B Pawn was the closest by far. I wrote down the address and closed the window. I’d talked myself down from my initial dread and pukefest. Now things were becoming clear. I’d escape one more time, leaving this town before he got a chance at me.
Mapping out my escape route had been my first priority when I’d reached LA, and it had dictated to some extent where I lived. After losing my e-bike, I now needed a cheap used bicycle to get away.
That amount of money, and for that purpose, I could borrow from someone here without a bunch of questions.
The initial alley in my escape path was only thirty inches wide, and the bike path behind the building went for almost a mile with no car access.
He wouldn’t be able to catch me on foot, and he couldn’t follow me in a car.
At the other end, an Uber would take me to the bus station, and a bus would carry me on the final leg of my escape.
Once I made it to the alley, I’d be safe.
My phone rang. Turning it over, I found March’s name on the screen. A million emotions went through me at once, but I couldn’t handle talking to him right now. I’d crack for sure, so I declined the call.
It rang again.
Grace looked up from her desk and caught my eye. Had she asked March to call me?
Looking away, I shut down the phone. I hadn’t planned on having to lie to him and wasn’t sure I could do it convincingly. I glanced in Terry’s direction and averted my gaze when he picked up his phone. Both he and Constance looked up.
Shit. Was he calling March? Had Grace called March to get me to go back to his place and lie down?
I needed more time to plan before leaving the building—time to locate a route to the pawn shop where he couldn’t follow me in a car. I’d have to improvise. Stashing my phone in my purse, I stood.
“Peyton.” It was Terry, holding his phone out. “Zane wants to talk to you. He says you’re not answering.”
Trapped. I faked my best smile. “Thanks. Dead battery.” Accepting the phone, I turned away so Terry couldn’t judge my expressions. “Hello?”
“Hi, Angel. I was trying to reach you.”
His deep voice was like a balm to my soul.
I would miss him so much. “Sorry, the battery in my phone died,” I lied.
“Let me move somewhere private.” As I started toward the small conference room, Terry went back to his desk.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.
“Hi. I miss you.” I infused my voice with my best imitation of happy.
I was going to miss him, and our last conversation should be a happy one.
“I’m sorry about Mom’s pancakes,” he said. “I hear you had some trouble with them.”
Terry had reported to him, or maybe it had been Grace.
“A little. But I’m fine now. Don’t say anything to her. She made such an effort.”
He laughed. “That’s actually a relief. I was afraid my dinner invitation made you sick to your stomach.”
I slid down the door to settle on to the ground, not sure what I’d just heard.
“You’re not saying anything,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be, I’d love to have dinner with you, Zane. A simple yes would be fine. I hope flowers weren’t too forward.”
Tears formed. “You sent the flowers?” I had to be sure.
“Now you’re making me feel bad. How many other guys are sending you flowers?”
I sniffed, overcome with relief and joy. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Mr. March.” I wiped away tears.
The Strangler hadn’t found me. LA was still a safe place. I could enjoy the company of these wonderful people a while longer, including one big, broody SEAL—even if I had to swear off kissing him.
“You know, you’re going to have to start calling me by my first name.”
“You mean Ruppie?” I laughed. A minute ago, I’d thought it would be forever until I could laugh again.
“Call me that again, and I may have to spank you.”
“And you think that’s a threat?” I realized too late that I had gotten way, way, way too flirty to fit my no-men rule.
“Consider it a promise.”
I could hardly fathom how lucky I was not to have left the building ten minutes ago. I would have left all these wonderful people behind. I would have been gone like a wisp of smoke, and they would have had no idea why. I would have had no idea that the danger was all in my head.
A shiver overtook me. I’d been scared out of my wits over what had been meant as a nice and flirty gesture.
But, going to dinner with this walking temptation was its own kind of danger. I had to get control of things before they got out of hand. “One more thing…”
“What?”
I gathered up all my courage. “That kiss… We aren’t doing that again.”
“I wouldn’t count on that, Angel.”
I let out an exasperated huff. “I mean it. I really do.”
“Of course you do,” he joked.
“I do. Never again. You have to promise me.” I hoped my words convinced both of us.
“I won’t make that promise. You’re too good a kisser.”
“That just means you haven’t kissed many girls.”
“Wanna bet?”
No way. With his looks and charm, the women he’d seduced would probably fill a stadium.
“Stop it. I mean it.” He was the fantastic kisser, but breaking down my defenses with a compliment was playing dirty, and this was a dangerous conversation, very dangerous. Change of subject time. “What did you learn from Frankie?”
He laughed. “Nice try. I can hear you getting flustered, so I’d rather talk about kissing.”
“Maybe dinner is not such a good idea,” I threatened.
“Look, the guy I’m meeting about your door just pulled up. I’ll call you in a bit, okay? You can figure out where you want to go to dinner. How’s that?”
I wiped my nose again with a tissue from the box on the side table. “You pick.”
After saying goodbye, I straightened up, checked my reflection in the window, and went back to my desk.
Constance arrived a few seconds later, admiring my flowers. “These are lovely.”
I nodded. “Yeah, they are.” Now that I understood their meaning, I could appreciate them.
“He sent me white ones this morning. You know that is the first time anyone sent me flowers as thanks for doing my job.” She leaned over to inhale the scent of my roses. “You have quite a guy there.”
I nodded, and my eyes moistened again. March was quite a guy, only he wasn’t mine and never could be. I lifted the vase. “I better get these some water.”