Chapter Four
Chapter
Four
As soon as I stepped into the lobby, I could practically smell money. From the crystal chandelier above me to the leather couch and chairs in a sitting area to my left, everything shouted, Expensive!
To my relief, the woman behind the reception desk was busy talking to someone on the phone. I took out my own phone and stood next to the leather couch, pretending to type out a text message. I angled myself so that the woman wouldn’t be able to see my grazed knees and dinosaur bandage.
As I fake-typed on my phone, I surreptitiously glanced around the lobby, assessing my surroundings.
Next to the reception desk was a door that led farther into the building.
It had one of those security pads next to it on the wall, the kind that require a card to be swiped.
As I was beginning to panic—again—that the plan was going to fall apart before I’d even found Hoffman, two women dressed in tennis outfits, with bags slung over their shoulders, entered the clubhouse, chatting.
They waved at the receptionist as they crossed the lobby.
One woman produced a key card and swiped it.
The green light came on, and the door’s lock clicked. The women pushed their way through.
I knew this might be my only opportunity to get into the inner sanctum. I fell into step behind the two women, doing my best to appear confident, like I totally belonged.
As the door swung closed behind the women, I put a hand out to stop it.
“Excuse me, ma’am!”
I froze and looked toward the receptionist. The door clicked shut, the sound ominous to my ears.
“I’m afraid I’ll need you to scan your membership card,” the receptionist said.
I sent her what I hoped was a sheepish smile. “I forgot it at home, and I’m meeting a friend here for lunch.”
“Perhaps you could text your friend and have them come meet you here in the lobby?” she suggested. Her tone was apologetic yet firm. A polite guard dog but a guard dog nonetheless.
“Oh…Um…” I desperately tried to pull myself together. “Sure, I can do that.”
Crap, crap, crap.
I didn’t know what to do. A voice in my head was shouting, Abort! Abort!
That sounded like a good idea to me. I’d just have to find Hoffman somewhere else on another day.
But then an arm settled across my shoulders, and the heady scent of fresh air reached my nose.
“It’s all right, Agatha. She’s with me.”
The receptionist’s face changed instantly.
“Of course. Nice to see you again.”
The man who’d helped me out of the rhododendron flashed her a smile, and I swear she nearly swooned. “You too, Agatha.”
He kept one arm around my shoulders as he swiped his card and pushed the door open. Then his hand moved to my back as I preceded him out of the lobby.
As soon as the door fell shut behind us, he removed his hand from my back, but I swear it left behind a glowing imprint. I could still feel the heat from his skin through the thin fabric of my borrowed dress.
A few paces away from the door, we drew to a stop.
“Thanks for that,” I said, trying not to let on that I was annoyed that he’d now come to my rescue twice.
He grinned at me, his dimple making another appearance. I cursed the weakness in my knees.
“Now that we’re partners in crime, do I at least get to know why you’re sneaking into the club?”
“I’m here to meet someone,” I said. After all, that was sort of the truth. Hoffman just didn’t know I was coming to meet him.
“That’s all you’ve got for me?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Do I at least get to know your name?”
When I hesitated, he held out his hand. I eyed it like it was dangerous. It probably was, considering that simply thinking about his hands had nearly sent me spiraling into a steamy fantasy earlier. But I couldn’t bring myself to ignore the offering.
I closed my hand around his.
I wouldn’t have called the touch electric. It was more like a sizzle, a fiery one that held a dangerous promise of even more heat.
I swore his nearly black eyes darkened, and I knew he’d felt it too.
“Emersyn Gray.”
My name came out sounding more breathless than I’d intended.
“Nice to meet you, Emersyn. I’m Wyatt.”
Of course he was.
Suspicion cut through the fogginess in my brain.
“For real? Are you just saying that because of this?” I held up the business card he’d retrieved for me minutes earlier.
“Coincidence,” he assured me. “My name really is Wyatt.”
“Wyatt what?” I asked.
He released my hand and slid both of his into the pockets of his jeans. “Just Wyatt.”
My hand felt cold in the absence of the heat of his sizzling touch. I tucked both hands behind my back, in case I got the crazy urge to reach for him. I cleared my throat and tore my gaze from his.
“I’d better get going.” I took two steps and then stopped. “Which way to the tennis courts?”
He started walking. “I’ll show you.”
“I just need directions, not a guide.” Despite my words, I hurried to fall into step with him, since he was already striding down the hallway.
“All right then.” He held a door open for me, one that led outside.
I passed through it and found myself on a cement pathway, bordered on each side by flowerbeds full of colorful fall blooms. Ahead and to my right was the outdoor pool.
One branch of the path led that way and another led straight.
A third branch wound off to my left. I noticed a discreet sign indicating the direction to the tennis courts just as Wyatt pointed that way.
“Take that path, and you won’t miss the courts,” he said.
“Thanks.”
I took about ten steps along the left-hand pathway before coming to an abrupt halt.
“Emersyn? What are you doing here?”
Even though I was at the club for the specific purpose of speaking with Hoffman, seeing him standing before me in his white shorts and polo filled me with a mixture of dread and anger.
I fought the urge to turn and flee, made stronger by the presence of Hoffman’s new girlfriend at his side.
She had blonde hair and blue eyes like me, but that’s where the similarities ended.
She was shorter than me, slimmer than me, curvier than me.
And dressed head to toe in what had to be designer tennis gear.
Her gaze slid down my body, and a sneer tugged at her otherwise pretty features.
I silently cursed myself for not ripping off the dinosaur bandage.
I managed to speak with far more confidence than I felt. “I need to talk to you, Hoffman.”
“I don’t think we’ve got anything to talk about,” he said with disdain. “And you’re not even a member of this club. You shouldn’t be here.” He raised his wrist so I’d notice his ever-present Apple Watch on its orange strap. “I could call security and have you tossed out.”
“You’re not a member either,” I pointed out, clenching my fists as the embers of my aggravation flickered into flames.
“But I am,” his girlfriend sneered, “and he’s with me.”
Her haughty tone and the way she glared down her nose at me like I was a piece of trash made me seriously rethink my plan to warn her about Hoffman’s character.
“So, I guess you won’t mind if I tell everyone at this club the truth about you,” I said to Hoffman.
“Try it, and I’ll sue you for slander.”
“It’s not slander if it’s the truth,” I shot back.
Hoffman scowled at me. I stared back, not allowing myself to blink or waver in any way.
“Tiffany, give me a second,” he said without looking at his girlfriend. He was too busy glowering at me to spare her a glance. “I’ll deal with this.”
Tiffany huffed but then flounced off toward the clubhouse, bumping my shoulder on her way past. I gritted my teeth and decided to get this over with as quickly as possible.
I held the business card out to Hoffman.
“I’ve hired a private detective. He’s in the process of gathering evidence to take to the police. Evidence that will prove you stole money from me.”
Hoffman didn’t take the card. “Give me a break, Emersyn. You think I’m going to buy that story? The cops didn’t charge me before, and they won’t do it now.”
I shoved the card at his chest and let it go. When it started to flutter down his front, he snatched it and cast a cursory glance at it.
“Give back every cent you stole from me, and I’ll call off the detective,” I said.
Hoffman glanced at the card again and let out a derisive snort. “Seriously? This is a joke. And not even a good one.”
He crumpled up the card and threw it on the ground.
Defeat threatened to crush me.
But then Wyatt appeared by my side, radiating a calm authority that was both comforting and super sexy. “I’m Wyatt,” he said, his dark gaze drilling into my ex. “Of Wyatt Investigations. I’m the detective Ms. Gray hired.”
I barely managed to hide my surprise.
Hoffman glanced from the discarded business card to Wyatt. I nearly laughed at the expression of shock on his face. Somehow, I fought off the temptation.
“I suggest you listen to Ms. Gray,” Wyatt continued. “I’m very good at what I do.”
I waited a beat to let those words sink in before I spoke.
“Time’s ticking, Hoffman,” I said, feeling more confident now.
I turned on my heel and followed the path back to the clubhouse, holding my head high and not looking back, not even for a second.