Her lips tugged up into a reluctant smile.“Is that your subtle way of telling me ‘I told you so?’Ican admitit,the emergency fund was a good idea. Idon’t really need a new car anyway. Or new clothes. Or hell, that vacation toCancun I promised myself I’d take before I turned sixty.”
I did not smile back. “You should always have a backupplan. Sometimes it pays to have three or four.”
“CarefulCaroline. What would I do without you?”
Her question was said jokingly, meant to bring me outof my depressed funk. But her words twisted the blade in an already open wound.What would she do without me? She couldn’t run this place by herself anymore.She’d only just started to relax. “Go bankrupt?” I suggested, onlyhalf-kidding.
She bobbled her head back and forth, considering theanswer. “Yeah, well good thing you’re not going anywhere.”
The door to the office jingled, throwing Maggie’swords right back in her face. Sayer stood in the doorway, bringing the chillyOctober afternoon with him. Thunderclouds rolled overhead and lightningstreaked across the sky. Unlike Jesse that walked into this office framed in goldenlight like an angelic halo, Sayer walked into this place with fire andbrimstone on his heels.
For a heavy, pressurized minute, all I could do wasstare at this man that used to be my entire world. He was even more shocking tobehold today. Friday night he had been all crisp lines and glossy revenge.Today he was casual in a long-sleeved Henley and low-slung jeans. His bigger,better, prison-bulked arms were huge compared to the gangly things I rememberedfrom our youth. His shoulders were broader. His jaw somehow more defined, moreunforgiving. And of all things… he was wearing glasses.
They should have been out of place on his face. He wasthe quintessential tough guy. He used to beat people up on a regular basis.He’d just gotten out of prison. The black-framed hipster glasses should havebeen one hundred percent ridiculous on that face. Yet… somehow, they only addedto his allure. They made him more mysterious. Even more different than the boyI ran away from five years ago. He was so terrifying my stomach flipped withnerves. And lust. Mostly nerves.“Whatdo you want?” The words were out of my mouth before I could temper them.
Maggie cut a glare in my direction. “W-welcome toMaggie’s on the Mountain,” she stuttered. See? Even Maggie of the Mountain wasscared of this man. And she was the toughest broad I knew.
Sayer ignored her. “A room,” he told me, answering myquestion. His crystal clear blue gaze, only magnified behind those lenses, torefrom mine to inspect the dated office. “Or a cabin, I guess. Whatever it is yourent out here.”
“We’re booked,” I answered quickly, lest Maggie getany ideas.
His eyebrows rose skeptically. “You’re booked?”
I couldn’t answer immediately. I was having troublecatching my breath. Why was he here? How had he found out where I worked? Hadhe decided today was the day I died? Had he finally got the kill order from thepakhan?
Maggie let out a groan of a sigh, not worried aboutthe terrifying man on the other side of the counter at all. “We areunfortunately. Three of our cabins are out of commission after the weekend. Thesituation has left us in somewhat of a bind. We’re scrambling to find cabinsfor everyone through the week.”
Sayer seemed undeterred by our answer. “What’s wrongwith them?”
Maggie looked back and forth between us. “Do you twoknow each other?”
I said, “No,” at the same time Sayer said, “Yes.”Which blew my cover.
It was hard to admit, but I had managed to play itsmoother at the gallery. Tucking my hands into my pockets, lest I truly give myselfaway by smacking my palm to my forehead, I tried to recover while Sayer stoodsmugly across the desk, waiting for me to dig my own grave. “We used to,” Isaid. “It’s been… a long time.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other?”Maggie filled in. I nodded. “But now you, Mr. …”
“Smith,” Sayer supplied.
“Mr. Smith, would like to rent a cabin from Caroline—thefriend you haven’t seen inawhile?”
One side of Sayer’s mouth kicked up into a smile, andmy heart squeezed as if two invisible fists were around it. Why was looking athim so difficult? Why did this hurt so much? Why wasn’t I more afraid?
I should be more afraid.
I should probably be begging for my life or something.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Sayer wasn’t akiller, at least not the Sayer I knew. And if he was going to book a room, thatmeant he probably wasn’t going to throw a black hood over my head, toss me inthe trunk of a car and drive me back to DC.
At least not yet.
My fear temporarily receded, making plenty of room formy raw frustration. “Mr. Smith showed up to be a pain in the ass, Maggie. He doesn’treally want a room.”
Sayer stepped up to the counter, pulling out hiswallet. “Mr. Smith would like a room. Mr. Smith even needs a room.” His gazefound mine again, all sincerity and openness. All lies. “Gus and I will killeach other if we go one more day in the same hotel room. As fun as it’s beenliving out of a suitcase, I need my space until I can find somethingpermanent.”
Permanent.
The word was a gut punch.
