Page 30 of Crash Course
The Cilla-doesn’t-have-a-life routine. She peered back at the mountain and the dipping sun. More of this. That’s what she needed.
Opening her car door, she tossed her tote on the passenger seat, shut the door, and came back to Cruz. "I love a good burger. Although—is there a conflict of interest since I’m a client?"
"Ha!That’sfunny. Two words for you. Phin. Maddy."
Having had a ringside seat to Phin falling—hard—for Maddy when she’d been one of their clients, Cilla laughed. "Who’d have ever thought those two would get together?"
Mr. Slick Phin paired with sweet-as-can-be Maddy? Pippi Longstocking meetsGQcover model. It shouldn’t work. And yet . . . totally worked.
As kind and unassuming as Maddy could be, she had no problem calling Phin—or anyone else—out on inappropriate behavior. Smart and talented, she gave men and women alike someone to admire.
"Phin always went for the flashy type," Cruz said. "Not that Maddy isn’t—" He shook his head. "Ignore me. I’m an idiot."
"No. I get what you’re saying. Maddy is . . .different. Adorable and quirky and . . . nice. Phin is used to dealing with conniving politicians and she’s the reverse."
"Exactly. Thank you."
"For what?"
He blew out a hard breath. "Understanding. Lately, all I’m doing is apologizing or overthinking everything. Fucking exhausting."
"Well, Mr. Blackwell, sounds like you need one of Triple B’s famous burgers."
"Yeah? You have time?"
"Not at all. But sometimes, I suppose we make time. It must be the mountain air because I’ve suddenly decided I need a life."
He backed up a step and held his finger up. "Don’t move. Just . . . stay right here. I need to grab my keys. You want to come inside? I mean, you're not gonna run, are you?"
A vision of her car speeding down the long drive flashed in her mind. There’d been plenty of times she’d sneaked out on people. Her friend Aidan called it the Irish Goodbye.
Tonight? No Irish Goodbye.
Cilla held up three fingers. "I’ll wait here. Scout’s honor. I have a couple of calls to return while you’re inside. And then, I suppose, we’ll go on our first date."
Cruz disappeared inside and Cilla checked her missed calls. Ed had called her twice in the last two hours. Something must be popping. She tapped on his name and lifted the phone to her ear. One ring in, Ed picked up.
"Hey," he said. "We got a problem."
With Ed, a man who had a flare for drama, Cilla had learned to pace herself when buying into his claims.
"Okay," she said. "What’s up?"
"My source at the PD went dark."
Cilla cocked her head. Problem indeed. Part of what made Ed so good at his job were his contacts in local law enforcement. "Went dark how?"
"As in totally ignoring me. I’ve been calling and texting him for a week. Usually he hits me back within a day."
"Did something happen?"
"Beats me. Known this guy ten years and suddenly nothing."
This she didn’t need when prepping for a murder trial. Closing her eyes, she slowly inhaled, drawing in the fresh mountain air that did exactly as Cruz had said and calmed her mind. She wouldn’t panic over this. Maybe the guy was on vacation or sick. Plus, Ed had other contacts to rely on.
It wouldn’t be an issue. She hoped.
The sound of a door closing drew her attention to one Cruz Blackwell exiting the Annex. "Ed, I have to go. Thank you for the update. Let me know if this continues."
