Jeanne Adams - Dark and Deadly

“Cool. You can pick me up in the new ride, chickiepoo.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It wasn’t until Torie was pulling back into the garage at the hotel in her new car that she called Paul. She’d wanted to call him first thing, but didn’t know if he’d been able to sleep in or not. She worried that…

“Nothing. You’re worried over nothing,” she told herself.

“Mister Jameson’s office.” Martha answered the phone with professional precision.

“Hello, Missus Prinz. Is Mister Jameson in? It’s Torie Hagen.”

“Hello, Torie. I’ll see if Mister Jameson is available.”

“Thank you, Martha.” Evidently the casual address had survived the night and Martha’s ideas of propriety.

“Torie.” Paul’s voice was warm, welcoming, a sensory treat. “Where are you? Are you coming over to the office?”

“No, I’m back at the room. I thought I’d work in their business center and in my room. I replaced my car, and I found a place to rent. It’s an incredible house. Since they released my place, I need to start getting estimates on that, too, so I wanted to get started.”

“Sounds productive. How are you feeling about TruStructure?”

“Uh, I’d love to talk to you about that also. You had said something to me, something that got me thinking.”

“Ummmm, I love to get you thinking,” he teased.

“Stop,” she said, though she loved hearing it. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“Serious. Okay. Hit me with it.”

“You said I should go out on my own. Not go back.”

“Have you decided to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to sit down with the new laptop and work on the pros and cons, make a list of all the potential customers, and all that.”

“What about all the projects you took with you? Are all those your original ideas? Are they viable for production?”

He’d switched gears to lawyer now. It was nearly as exciting as his teasing. He believed in her.

“I’ve made an appointment to talk to a small business banker the first of next week. I have a lot saved, but I want to keep the business separate.”

“That’s wise,” he said, but she heard a laugh in his voice. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem. You should keep Monday open, if possible. I think we’ve finally gotten everything we need to read Todd’s will, and get all that straightened out.”

“Oh, I’ll call back, change the appointment until Tuesday.”

“Sound’s good. Now about the house you’re renting—where is it?”

“Not too far from your house, actually. It’s in a good neighborhood. It’s got room for the dogs—a big fenced yard, and all that.”

“Wait, dogs? Plural?”

She paused for a second, wondering how he’d react. “I, uh, I’m taking Bear.”

“Holy shit. He’s a moose. How do you think your pup’s going to react to him?”

Her heart melted. He hadn’t told her she was nuts, he hadn’t asked if she had thought it through. He asked about Pickle. “Uh, she loves company, so I think they’ll get along okay. He’s really a big teddy bear.”

“More like a grizzly bear.”

“Pam called him a woolly mammoth.”

Paul laughed, a booming delightful sound. “That’s perfect. So what are you going to do first at your house?”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of…” She hated to admit it, but he’d been so understanding so far. “I’m a little afraid to go over there until there’s been some kind of resolution.”

“On your stalker? Yeah. I don’t have any say in the matter, but I hate to think of you over there by yourself. If, uh, you’d like me to, I’ll go with you tomorrow. We can see if there’s anything else you can salvage. Get it out, and start getting workmen in.”

“That would be great.” Relief lightened her heart. Going over there was imperative, but it would be so much easier to have him with her. “Oh, but we shouldn’t, right? We have to be careful. I don’t want anyone taking a shot at you again. No, I’ll go alone.”

“We’ll go together,” he said, firmly. “We’re not going to live in fear, Torie. Marco’s still watching you, and he can watch us both. So what else?”

Torie let that sink in for a moment, but decided protesting would get her nowhere. “I’m having lunch with Pam, getting my nails done. Getting ready for my date with Mister Pratt.”

“Should be some night. Old Pratt’s a wild man. The rest of the crew are pretty crazy, too. The fraternity parties have nothing on Pratt and Legend.”

“I’ll bet. So, how much dancing is there?”

“Enough. I’ll be claiming that dance, Torie.” He let his voice drop. “And a few other things, if you’ll let me.”

“I think something can be arranged.”

“Excellent.” He returned to his professional tone. “I’m so happy to hear about your plans. If you’d keep me abreast of your progress, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Someone came into your office, didn’t they?”

“Indeed.”

“So should I talk dirty to you so you get really embarrassed while Martha’s standing there?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine, thanks.” She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I’ll talk to you later. Call me on my cell if you need me.”

“Will do.”

Still smiling, Torie parked and enjoyed the fun of beeping the locks on the car. Briefcase in hand, she headed to the business center.

She’d been working for several hours when the door opened yet again. The place was busy, with a conference in the ballroom and the usual general weekday traveler business.

“Is this seat taken?”

Torie swiveled around, looked at Paul. He stood there, big as life. In his hands he carried yet another vase of flowers. These were weeping over in a fabulous riot of color and form.

“Oh, those are beautiful.”

“I’d like to say something clichéd like, ‘They’re not as beautiful as you,’ but that would sound sappy.”

“Go ahead, be sappy.”

“No,” he said, setting the flowers on the table and leaning down to kiss her. “I’ll be as sappy as you want. Later.”

“Okay.”

He sat down in the other chair, looking over the notes she had spread all over the table. “You’ve been busy.”

“It’s been fun,” she said, surprised to find she meant it. “Here, let me show you.” She turned the pad around and showed him the outline of the plan for her business. “If I were to capitalize enough, I could get office space pretty quickly.”

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem. What are you going to do about TruStructure?”

She copied his posture, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to call them and say screw you. Another part of me is scared to death to start this whole thing, and I want to call them and say, ‘Hey, I’m exonerated, when can I come back?’”

“You really do have grounds for a lawsuit, you know, especially since you have been cleared of all charges. We got the letter this morning, by the way.”

“Oh, good. But do I want to do that? Open that can of worms?”

They discussed it for a while, and his insights were right on target. She showed him the listing sheet for the house, too, and told him about Kuhman and the walk-through. He didn’t seem surprised that the house was near his place in Lansdowne.

“That’s a lot of work to take on, especially if you’re starting a new business as well.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “With both houses, the dogs, everything changes.”

“I know.” She hesitated, not sure how to tell him what she was feeling.

“But?”

“It feels right.”

Paul leaned back again. “Then it’s the right thing to do.”

“Wow. Really?”