Page 28 of Black Sheep
How the hell does he move so quietly? He’s like a lone wolf, silently stalking his prey.
While I shut down the overactive part of my imagination, Tanya sputters.
“Wh-what? Oh. Sorry. I thought ...”
“Call Teal. Tell her there’s a driver coming to get her. I don’t care where she is or what she’s doing, she’s making her damn shift and she’d better be sober.”
With the first sheepish look I’ve seen on her face, Tanya slinks in the direction from which I just came.
Who is Teal, and why are we worried she won’t be sober?
My neck prickles as Cannon comes closer to me, and I slowly turn to face him.
“Now I understand why you thought you were getting fired. I’ll talk to her about giving you shit.”
“No. Don’t,” I say quickly, wanting to cut that idea off as quickly as it came to life, especially since he told me to deal with her on my own, which I’ve been doing just fine. “It’ll just make it worse. I can handle her.”
His gaze sweeps over my face. “I don’t doubt that. Now get the hell out of here. Your car is waiting out front.”
16
Drew
Getting the hell out of the club is absolutely no problem for me, but the car waiting for me on the street is. I can’t dodge Warren because the Escalade is double-parked, and he opens the back door as soon as he sees me step onto the sidewalk.
“Ms. Carson, it’s a pleasure.”
“Hi, Warren,” I say with a tight smile, my brain still battling over my fight-or-flight decision.
Pedestrians dodge around where my heels are glued to the concrete. In one direction is Barneys, where I face possible discovery. In the other direction is my apartment, where I can hide and pretend this isn’t happening, but then I risk being claimed as the mistress of a man I’m only here to put in prison.
Stay cool. Act cool. Be cool.I glance up at the sky and take a few seconds to just breathe. And yet, no solutions magically appear.
Really, universe? Is this how you want me to play it?
Clearly, there’s no reply. At least, not until someone slams into my shoulder.
“You’re blocking the sidewalk. Get the hell out of the—” Before the man finishes speaking, Warren is between us.
“Don’t say another word to the lady, or you’ll regret it.”
The man in a suit glares at Warren for a half second before Warren’s jacket flaps open to reveal a gun. The man’s eyes widen, and he backs away. “Whoa, man. Sorry.”
“Move the fuck on,” Warren says in a low tone, and then leads me to the SUV. “Sorry about that, Ms. Carson. It won’t happen again. I’ll escort you from the door. Mr. Freeman would have my ass if I didn’t make sure you arrive safe and sound.”
And that’s how I find myself settled in the back of a Cadillac, heading for Barneys. It reminds me of how my father would tell me,“Not making a decision is the same as making one.You’ve always got a choice, even when it’s refusing to choose.”
Sadness scores my chest, and I fight the mist of tears coming over my eyes. It’s been almost eight months, but from the sharpness of the pain, it still feels like yesterday.
They say time heals all wounds, but that’s bullshit. Nothing will ever heal this wound. Justice is the next best thing. Which means if I have to go on one date with Cannon Freeman to save my investigation, so be it.
Warren slides into the driver’s seat and pulls into traffic. It takes us twenty minutes to get to Barneys. He helps me out of the car and tells me he and Mr. Freeman will pick me up in the same spot at 7:45.
With a smile, I head inside the flagship department store, ready to face my next test, and a high-pitched voice squeaks, “Lizzy? Is that you?”
Oh. Fuck.
Thankfully, it’s been a long time since I’ve answered to the name Lizzy, so I don’t acknowledge the hesitant question. I keep walking forward until the woman, a contact I used for an investigation four years ago, rushes up to me. Mindy Vick. That’s her name.
