Page 15 of Lord of Ruin
No, I knew better than to expect anything. The world of mafia organizations was closemouthed for good reasons. Talking got you killed. After Gabriel ended the call, I held the phone in my hand for a few seconds as I continued to stare out the window. Every third thought had drifted to Jenna, which was ridiculous. I shoved my phone into my pocket, able to laugh at the fact a feisty woman had managed to drag me away from my usual focus.
The coffee from across the street was calling my name but I’d need to make it quick since I had a conference call in twenty minutes. I’d granted Marku a fifteen-minute conversation and nothing more. I was still angry, and so was Christos. Although I had to admit that I had certain reservations about leaving and it was all because of the attraction I’d felt to the woman. That wasn’t like me at all.
I grabbed my wallet and hotel room card, heading out the door toward the elevator. A stiff cup of java could quench my thirst while nursing my throbbing headache.
And for some crazy reason, as I stepped into the elevator, all I could think about was Jenna instead of the bastard trying to play us.
Maybe there was some truth to the old adage that there was a woman fueling every powerful man.
Jenna
“Wow. You look like shit,” Charlotte said as soon as she sat down in front of me.
I slowly lifted my head, wincing from the bright sun. “Maybe that’s because I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.” Or that I had been almost killed by one crazed man and spanked by another, followed by the sexy, rugged, and oh-so dangerous perpetrator leaving me an envelope of cash.
Ten thousand dollars to be exact. I’d counted and recounted the wad while pouring glass after glass of cheap cabernet. Maybe the next drunken night I could at least afford a decent bottle instead of the rotgut that had left me with a head the size of an overinflated basketball.
“Thanks ever so much, Miss Chipper.”
I wasn’t telling a lie. Charlotte Hudson had graduated a year ahead of me, only with an entirely different degree. She and I had developed a friendship, her parents from New York, which was another reason I didn’t feel so alone in the big city. She’d also been the one to help me find an apartment, granted a cheap-ass three-room place with the tiniest galley kitchen but right now, it was all I needed.
She giggled and leaned over the table. “Stop worrying about the clinic. I’m telling you that it’s going to be an incredible success.”
I glanced out the window, noticing the same guy I could swear I’d seen before standing in the same spot on the other side of the street. Okay, so there wasn’t a single street that wasn’t clogged with cars, which meant I couldn’t tell if he was looking at this business or one of ten others, but I had a creepy feeling that I hadn’t been able to get rid of.
Charlotte waved her hand in front of my face, drawing my attention back to our coffee date, which we tried to keep once a week at least. With her working most nights, and me days, our times spent together had been severely limited.
“I have confidence the clinic will take off. I have a couple of new clients coming in today and that will build in time. Plus, I was able to secure a small, teensy tiny amount of advertising so that should help. And my website and Facebook pages are up and running.”
“Well, see. Then what is going on? Why are you so jumpy?”
I closed my eyes, involuntarily rubbing my fingers across my lips. The kiss had been so heated I’d remained against the wall for a solid fifteen minutes. After that I’d paced the floor in my clinic, horrified that I hadn’t told the police. Why? The crazed man hadn’t looked at my wallet to see my address. And I doubted he’d follow me home.
By the time I’d walked out maybe thirty minutes later, I hadn’t bothered looking toward the direction of the dead body, simply keeping my head down and rushing home. I’d skipped my usual subway stop, heading toward another one just to be certain I hadn’t been followed.
Maybe that’s why I had the creepy crawlies this morning.
I was angry for not picking up the phone or going to the closest police precinct. Sadly, I wasn’t entirely certain what I could have told them. Yes, I had seen the killer up close and personal. Sure, his fingerprints were likely all over my clinic, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t have been believed. Or maybe I’d seen too many movies where the perpetrator wasn’t in the system, as if he didn’t exist.
Or maybe I was just making excuses for why I’d been terrified all night long.
At this point, I had to share my experience with someone, even if I needed to keep certain details out of the story. “I had a late-night visitor.”
“What? What does that mean?” I knew I would alarm her no matter what I said. “Some hot guy?”
Yes, and no.
“Stop worrying. At the clinic. It means he… He had an injured dog. It was my first client.”
“Then why are you acting like he was a crazed masked man?”
I finally was able to giggle, even though the sound was strange to me. “Stop. Goofy. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s just that we kind of hit it off.”
“Oh, yeah?” She winked as if I’d found my soulmate.
“Not quite like that but there was a strong connection that we couldn’t deny.”
“Just how strong are we talking about?” she teased.