6. Harper #3
“I was hoping you’d just give up,” he says when I’m standing in front of him.
There’s a streetlight above us, giving me a clear view of his face.
I wish it would go out. It’s a lot easier to talk to Ev when I can’t see how good looking he is.
He looks me over like he’s not quite sure what to do with me before cocking his head and saying, “A sane person would’ve just quit, you know. ”
“Yeah, but a reporter wouldn’t,” I argue.
“Why are you following me?” he asks again. “I’m not your story, Harper.”
“Why can’t I find your home address?” I ask, frustrated all over again when I start to think about it. “Why do you have it so well hidden? I understand you wouldn’t want to advertise it, but I can find anyone with a little bit of digging, but I can’t find you. Why is that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot,” he counters. “I’m around very dangerous men. Those men have enemies. I’m not going to make it easy for them to find me. I don’t give a shit what other lawyers do. This is how I do things. A defense attorney being cautious is not headline news.”
“You’re infuriating,” I tell him.
“I could say the same thing about you.”
I ignore the jab and ask, “Why didn’t you just pull over forty minutes ago? Why go through all this?”
The corner of his mouth lifts up the tiniest bit, so small I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been staring so intently at the crooked smirk he always seems to wear. “I wanted to see how far you’d take it. I stopped because I didn’t want to drive around all night. I have shit to do.”
Watson lets out another soft whine. Ev raises a brow at me and ducks his head again. “Is that a greyhound? You brought your dog along for the ride?”
Feeling defensive, I reach in and pet Watson’s head, letting him know it’s okay while Ev gets nosy and looks at the interior of my car.
He notices the empty pup cup. “And you brought treats. I’m glad I stopped.
You really would have driven around all night.
You came prepared.” His smirk grows a bit bigger when he says, “Premeditated is the word I’d use. ”
“Of course you would,” I mutter, giving Watson’s head another pat before standing back up to my full height, which isn’t much in comparison to Ev. “So what now?”
He looks back to his car, making me wait in silence for several seconds before he looks back at me. “All this is because you wanted to see where I live?”
“Yeah.”
“What were you going to do once you found out?” he asks.
“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” I admit. “I never expected to find you. How did you know I was even following you? I stayed way far back up until you led me down murder alley.”
He gives a soft laugh. “I saw you immediately. You were parked outside my building. I’ve known the whole time.”
I let out a whispered “damn it” at my stupidity that just makes him laugh again.
“So the plan wasn’t to somehow try and use this against me?” he asks. “Planning on leaking the info maybe?”
That has me pissed enough to meet his eyes.
“That’s not the kind of reporter I am. I want the story, yeah, but I don’t play dirty like that.
I have integrity. I realize that might be a foreign concept to you, but I would never throw out someone’s address or print something that was told to me in confidence. That’s not how I want to get ahead.”
I don’t add that maybe if I did play that way, I would’ve made it to a senior position a lot sooner. I intend to make a name for myself that is untarnished. It’s taken me longer, but at least I can still face myself in the mirror.
He studies me for a few more seconds before stepping in a bit closer.
I instinctively scoot back until I’m pressed against the car.
He rests his hands on either side of me, making me feel completely caged in.
When he leans in closer, I let out a breath, unable to look away from those blue-green eyes of his.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, unable to make my voice any louder.
“Maybe you try to get your stories another way?” he asks, leaning in enough to make his point obvious.
“Asshole,” I yell, smacking his chest and pushing him back. It doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t budge even an inch, just stays there staring at me. I press harder against his chest, refusing to be impressed by the amount of muscle he has.
His eyes search mine, and I let him, not even trying to hide how pissed I am. Whatever he sees has him dropping his hands and stepping back.
“I’m sorry. I had to be sure, though,” he says. “I had to know what kind of person you are.”
“Why?”
Instead of answering me, he asks, “Do you still want to see where I live?”
“Yeah,” I say because him pissing me off didn’t dim my curiosity.
“Then follow me.”
He turns and walks back to his car, leaving me stunned and staring at his very broad shoulders and expensive suit.
“What in the hell just happened?” I look over at Watson, but he looks just as mystified as I feel.
“Get in the car, Harper,” Ev yells when he turns back to see me still standing in the road. “I’m sure your dog could use some water and a place to relieve himself.”
“Is this a trick?” I can’t help but ask. “Are you just going to lead me around for another forty minutes?”
“No. I’m hungry. I want to go home,” he says. “You coming or not?”
I glance back at Watson, and then hurry into the driver’s seat, locking the door behind me. I’m not sure what happened to put Ev into such an agreeable mood, but I plan on taking full advantage of it before it disappears and I miss my chance.
“Oh my god,” I say while I start to follow Ev back down the empty street, this time not even bothering to hide that I’m tailing him. Although, it looks like my charade didn’t do much good. “I need to up my spy skills,” I tell Watson when he climbs back into the front seat to be next to me.
After following Ev for fifteen minutes, I let out a laugh when I realize what he’s done.
He’d taken me in big, loopy circles, each one getting a little wider and making it seem like he lived far away when in reality he’s pretty close to his work.
I’d thought he would live in a high-rise or some kind of modern, concrete-looking place, something austere and stony, just like him, but when he pulls down a nice, quiet side street and stops in front of an older looking carriage house, it’s the last thing I’m expecting.
It’s not in disrepair or anything. The brick exterior has held up nicely, and the large green carriage doors have obviously been updated, but this place looks cozy, and that’s not a word that makes me think of Ev Nikitin.
I watch as the doors slide open before he drives his car inside.
It looks like there’s enough room, so I follow him in.