Page 45 of My Killer Blind Date

‘I work for demanding clients. Downside of the industry. What’s your meeting?’

Think, Margot, and for God’s sake don’t bring Fluffers into it!

‘A meeting with the Lord!’ I spout out. Yikes. But it’s the only thing that occurs to me even though I haven’t set foot in a church since high school.

Liam gives me a narrow-eyed smile, like he’s amused, but still not buying it. ‘OK, church girl. In that case, rain check.’

‘Rain check,’ I agree with a sigh caught between relief and regret. Then I gesture to the rain still pounding against the windshield. ‘Ha ha.’

Liam cracks a smile and starts the car. ‘So, should I drop you at home?’

‘Just the Blue Line station would be great.’

We ride in silence. Liam drops me off at the Belmont L station.

‘It’s really coming down. Are you sure I can’t drop you at home?’ he says as I get out.

‘Can I be honest?’ I say from outside the car, rain already pelting me.

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t want you to know where I live.’

His jaw feathers. But I don’t think he’s angry. Just taking it in. He nods. ‘OK.’

I slam the door and rush toward the protection of the station, emotion bunching in my throat, in my chest.

The problem isn’t just that Liam might be dangerous.

It’s that I become dangerous when I’m too close to him. Dangerously reckless.

My old, fatal flaw.

Chapter Fourteen

Instantly upon waking Sunday morning, I am deeply regretting all my choices. I turn into my pillow and release a small scream. I was supposed to get into Liam’s place! Snoop around! Gosh darnit, I’m supposed to be the intrepid investigator. I had all my weapons with me. All I had to do was keep my damn pants on and my stun gun handy. How hard could that be?

Then I remember my heated pulse. The way my breasts pressed against his chest. Even the gear shift digging into my butt was hot, somehow. The confined space – his tongue working down my neck – the way the sound of our breathing filled the car …

‘Fuuuuuck,’ I groan. Why does this have to be so complicated??? Nancy Drew never seemed to have this much trouble.

It was a week between our last two encounters. I can’t afford to wait that long again.

Maybe I should rip the band-aid off and go over there. Surprise him. It’s Sunday. He doesn’t seem like the church-going type, so unless he’s brunching with friends, he should be home like a normal person, having a normal lazy Sunday. Or even better, I can catch him doing serial killer weekend stuff, whatever that is.

I’ll bring some doughnuts, I decide as I pad into the bathroom and splash water on my face. Two people can play the love-bombing game, after all, and it gives me a cover should things get awkward. I pull my hair into a top knot. My eyes briefly stray to my underutilized makeup stash, but today isn’t about looking sexy. In fact, the less sexy I look and feel, the better. I won’t even brush my teeth. That way, my morning coffee breath will prevent me from trying to kiss him, because no one needs to be subjected to that.

In the kitchen, I imbibe some instant coffee so fast it scalds my mouth.

Yes. It’s time to get into Liam’s apartment once and for all.

I grab my purse, feel for the comfort of the stun gun and head out the door. I don’t know his exact address, of course, but I know the neighborhood and the street, and how many new-construction corner buildings with little balconies can there possibly be?

*

Milwaukee Avenue, the main thoroughfare through the hip neighborhood of Wicker Park, is bustling with shoppers, dogwalkers and a disproportionate amount of hot young people in designer clothes. It would be fun to come back here some time and shop the boutiques … if I ever have money.

Soon, I spot a corner building that has to be Liam’s. I crane my neck and look up at the eight-story condo complex. It’s pristine, and sure enough, speckled with little iron balconies just big enough for an Adirondack chair and a small grill.