What I wouldn’t give to be able to walk with her confidence. She was one take-no-shit little lady.
I giggled to myself, imagining I’d had her talents when the Strangler attacked me. I bet then I could have made him pay.Chop, chop, kick. Constance probably knew a dozen ways to take the guy down. As a Secret Service agent, she’d probably practiced on men all the time.
Going back to my screen, B-B Pawn was the closest by far. I wrote down the address and closed the window. I’d talked myself down from my initial dread and pukefest. Now things were becoming clear. I’d escape one more time, leaving this town before he got a chance at me.
Mapping out my escape route had been my first priority when I’d reached LA, and it had dictated to some extent where I lived. After losing my e-bike, I now needed a cheap used bicycle to get away.
That amount of money, and for that purpose, I could borrow from someone here without a bunch of questions.
The initial alley in my escape path was only thirty inches wide, and the bike path behind the building went for almost a mile with no car access. He wouldn’t be able to catch me on foot, and he couldn’t follow me in a car. At the other end, an Uber would take me to the bus station, and a bus would carry me on the final leg of my escape. Once I made it to the alley, I’d be safe.
My phone rang. Turning it over, I found March’s name on the screen. A million emotions went through me at once, but I couldn’t handle talking to him right now. I’d crack for sure, so I declined the call.
It rang again.
Grace looked up from her desk and caught my eye. Had she asked March to call me?
Looking away, I shut down the phone. I hadn’t planned on having to lie to him and wasn’t sure I could do it convincingly. I glanced in Terry’s direction and averted my gaze when he picked up his phone. Both he and Constance looked up.
Shit.Was he calling March? Had Grace called March to get me to go back to his place and lie down?
I needed more time to plan before leaving the building—time to locate a route to the pawn shop where he couldn’t follow me in a car. I’d have to improvise. Stashing my phone in my purse, I stood.
“Peyton.” It was Terry, holding his phone out. “Zane wants to talk to you. He says you’re not answering.”
Trapped.I faked my best smile. “Thanks. Dead battery.” Accepting the phone, I turned away so Terry couldn’t judge my expressions. “Hello?”
“Hi, Angel. I was trying to reach you.”
His deep voice was like a balm to my soul. I would miss him so much. “Sorry, the battery in my phone died,” I lied. “Let me move somewhere private.” As I started toward the small conference room, Terry went back to his desk. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. “Hi. I miss you.” I infused my voice with my best imitation of happy. I was going to miss him, and our last conversation should be a happy one.
“I’m sorry about Mom’s pancakes,” he said. “I hear you had some trouble with them.”
Terry had reported to him, or maybe it had been Grace.
“A little. But I’m fine now. Don’t say anything to her. She made such an effort.”
He laughed. “That’s actually a relief. I was afraid my dinner invitation made you sick to your stomach.”
I slid down the door to settle on to the ground, not sure what I’d just heard.
“You’re not saying anything,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be,I’d love to have dinner with you, Zane. A simple yes would be fine. I hope flowers weren’t too forward.”
Tears formed. “You sent the flowers?” I had to be sure.
“Now you’re making me feel bad. How many other guys are sending you flowers?”
I sniffed, overcome with relief and joy. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Mr. March.” I wiped away tears.
The Strangler hadn’t found me. LA was still a safe place. I could enjoy the company of these wonderful people a while longer, including one big, broody SEAL—even if I had to swear off kissing him.
“You know, you’re going to have to start calling me by my first name.”
“You mean Ruppie?” I laughed. A minute ago, I’d thought it would be forever until I could laugh again.
“Call me that again, and I may have to spank you.”
“And you think that’s a threat?” I realized too late that I had gotten way, way, way too flirty to fit my no-men rule.
