Heather Graham - Hurricane Bay

“Tomorrow is Friday. I left a message with my secretary that I was working at home. I’ll drive back in on Monday sometime,” Larry said. “Don’t worry, I’m a golden boy at work, you know that.”

It was true.

“Um. Let’s hope you’re not so golden that they don’t get the idea to cut my vacation short,” Kelsey told him.

He laughed. “You’re the golden girl. The idea lady. The creative genius. You’re safe.”

“Is that coffee done, Kelsey?” Nate asked.

“Looks like it. Why don’t you pour me some, too?”

Larry jumped when the phone on the counter in front of the coffeepot rang.

“Who the hell would be calling at this hour?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, two o’clock in the morning,” Kelsey murmured. “Answer it.”

Larry did so. Even from where they were sitting, the others could hear Cindy’s voice over the phone. She had recognized Larry’s “Hello?” But she wanted to know what he was doing in Kelsey’s place in the middle of the night.

“Time is relative,” he told her. “Actually when I talked to Kelsey earlier, she sounded a little down, and I thought seeing you and Dane sounded really good, so I decided to play hooky from work and drive on down. For the weekend, at least.”

Cindy said something Kelsey couldn’t quite catch. Larry hung up the phone.

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