Chapter 20
TWENTY
Bree was fun. Even having Joey there at the beginning of the event hadn’t dampened her spirits. Once she ticked off Blair—which I knew would come back to bite me at some point—we spent the rest of the evening entertaining each other.
We were both tipsy when it was time to leave and we headed next door for dinner.
We got more food than we could eat, with the intention of taking leftovers home, which meant we went big.
Between the veggie spring rolls, shrimp dumplings, sweet-and-sour shrimp, sesame chicken, and pepper steak, we ate so much that I thought I might burst.
I grabbed the leftovers, and we returned to the scooter to collect the helmets Bree had locked in at the back.
She was convinced they would make an enticing target for thieves, and I didn’t disagree with her.
The food had sobered us up. The sight we found when locking down the scooter for the night chased the fun from both of us.
“Well, crap,” Bree said when she realized she had two flat tires.
At first, I figured the tires had gone flat because she hadn’t driven the scooter in months. It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t the type to jump to the dramatic conclusion. Then I saw the big gashes in them.
I was immediately rattled at the way Bree hugged herself for comfort.
I’d seen it more than once. The first time had been when Joey rattled her at the initial author event.
The second time was over lunch with her mother and my father.
I’d seen it again when Joey had boxed her in at the second event. Now I knew what it meant.
“Somebody slashed my tires,” she said dumbly as I switched hands with the takeout and slipped my arm around her back. “Who would do that?”
“Kids,” I answered automatically. “They were probably passing by and decided to be assholes.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Kids are obnoxious—I would never say otherwise—but this is out in the open.” She gestured around the parking lot. “I don’t think they would have done it knowing they were likely caught on camera.”
I glanced around. She was right. I could see two cameras just from this vantage point. “Do you want to go in and look at the footage?”
She shook her head. “It’s late.” Her expression was guarded as her gaze darted in every direction. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”
I nodded. “We can arrange for the scooter to be picked up tomorrow. It’s going to need new tires before you can ride it again anyway.
That won’t be done in a day, I don’t think.
” I hesitated. “We can still go out tomorrow as planned.” I didn’t want to give that up.
“We’ll handle the scooter in the morning and then pick it up when we’re done.
I can follow you home just to be on the safe side. ”
She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” She was still looking around as if she expected somebody to jump out from behind one of the vehicles. “Do you think it was him?”
It took me a moment to figure out who she was referring to. “Joey?”
“He was irritated when he saw us together. He only stayed for about an hour, but he watched me the whole time.”
I’d seen him. In fact, I’d been watching him closely.
He never took his eyes off Bree. The way he looked at her was worrisome.
Fortunately, he hadn’t approached her. Maybe he would stop now that he likely thought we were together.
That was the reason I’d taken her hand the way I had.
Okay, one of the reasons. Mostly, I’d just wanted to hold her hand.
Since it had served a dual purpose, however, I was giving myself an out.
“We don’t know it was him,” I said after a beat. “It could have just been a random person walking by. There are monsters out there who like to destroy things for fun.”
“Yeah.” She blew out a sigh and finally looked at me. “Can we get out of here? I’m creeped out.” She moved to the back of the scooter and unlocked the helmets.
I immediately missed her being beside me but nodded. She wasn’t just going to get over this. It might have only been tires, but she’d lost some of her comfort thanks to this act. I hated that for her.
“Yup.” I pulled up my Uber app and filled out the information. “Only three minutes away,” I said when I was finished.
“That’s good.” She moved to stand next to me, but I didn’t miss the way she kept looking over her shoulder.
“I can contact the bar tomorrow,” I said. “Have them look at their footage.”
“What good will that do? The cops probably won’t do anything.”
“It will give you peace of mind to know.”
“Maybe.” She smiled, but it was forced. “Let’s just get out of here, huh?”
“Yup. Two and a half minutes.”
THE UBER STOPPED AT MY HOUSE FIRST because it was on the way. I didn’t want to leave her in the car alone, however, and I made a decision on the fly.
“I can go with you to your house,” I said. “Then he can drop me off on the way back.”
To my surprise, she exited the Uber in front of my house. “I can walk from here.”
“No.” I threw cash at the driver in what would likely be considered a rude move and chased her out. “You’re not walking.” I was adamant on that. I gripped the leftovers tighter. “Not alone, anyway.”
Her gaze roamed my face. “Are you going to walk with me?”
If it came to it, that was exactly what I was going to do. I pointed at my house. “How about you come inside, have some water, and we’ll talk, huh?”
“What are we going to talk about?”
“You can tell me about your secret project.” The words just slipped out.
She shifted as the Uber driver pulled out of the driveway, his headlights briefly bouncing off her before we were plunged into relative darkness. “Who said I was working on a secret project?”
I smirked. “Because you shift between files when we’re working by the pool.”
“Maybe I just keep my chapters in separate files.”
“You don’t. You write the same way I do—in one long document.”
Her lips flattened, and for a moment, I thought she was going to start yelling. Then she matched my smile. “You flip between files too.”
I wasn’t surprised that she’d noticed. We were hyperaware of each other when working, even though neither of us had ever really acknowledged it. “I am working on a second manuscript,” I said.
“Because you took so long between projects?”
“Because I’ve always wanted to write a mystery, and I figured I would never get it out of my head if I didn’t at least try.”
“You’re writing a mystery?” Her smile went as soft as her eyes. “I didn’t think you were going to do it.”
“Neither did I.”
“What made you change your mind?”
I hadn’t known it when I first started banging out words, but it was Bree.
She gave me strength that I’d never expected because she was my biggest cheerleader.
She’d been secretly reading my books, and she apparently liked them enough to keep track of the details.
That had been the real reason I’d decided to try writing a mystery.
“I don’t know where it’s going to go,” I admitted. “I might realize it’s crap when I’m done, but I want to be brave for a change.”
She regarded me with an unreadable stare. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for,” she said. “You’re way braver than me.”
“No, I’m not.” I shook my head. Did she not realize how fantastic she was? “You do this without a safety net. All you have is yourself. Like the tennis players. If things don’t go my way, I always have my trust fund to fall back on.”
Her mouth fell open. “You have a trust fund?”
How did she not realize that? “My father is rich, and my mother was determined. She made sure my trust fund was locked up before she died, just in case my father decided to be difficult. She knew him well enough to recognize he would hold it over my head if I didn’t go to college for business or get perfect grades.
She made sure I was taken care of before she passed away. ”
“She sounds like a great mom.” Bree turned wistful. “I know it sucks that you lost her, but at least you had her in the first place.”
“I’ll be forever grateful for that,” I said, inclining my head toward the door. “Come in. I have ice cream.”
“I don’t eat dairy,” she said automatically.
I’d noticed that without her ever saying it. “It’s almond milk Ben & Jerry’s.”
“Really?” She broke into a wide grin. “Phish Food?”
I nodded.
“That’s my favorite,” she said.
“Then I guess we have something else we agree on.” I nudged her with my elbow. “Come inside. You can tell me what you’re writing—I want to hear all about it—and then I’ll walk you home later.” When you’re settled, I silently added.
“Okay, but I’m going to eat all your ice cream.”
I shrugged. “There are worse things.” Like saying good night before I’m ready.
brEE LOVED ICE CREAM. SHE DIDN’T WANT to share.
I was fine with that because I enjoyed having her on my couch, with me, so very much.
She wasn’t on my lap or anything, but she was close enough to touch me.
She showed no sign of wanting to move either.
That was more than enough for me to keep the conversation going.
“So… what do you like about contemporary romance? What makes it better than paranormal romance?” I asked.
She’d gone into great detail about what she wanted to write in the story that she was working on, and I was curious enough to keep asking her about the project. Unfortunately, I wasn’t an expert on romance. In more ways than one.
She shrugged. “I don’t think it’s better than paranormal romance, but there’s a more intimate feel to it. The things in my paranormal romances can be off the chain because nothing needs to be realistic other than the emotions. Everything in contemporary romance needs to be grounded.”
I considered it. “Why romance?” I wasn’t trying to be insulting, but I was desperate to understand her. So very desperate.