I straightened up as soon as my hand closed around the black ankle boots. Not the footwear I would have chosen if I’d known I’d be wearing this dress, but it’s not like I had any other options.
I wobbled precariously as I tried to jam my feet into the high-heeled boots on the soft grass.
“Careful,” the man said, catching my elbow with a gentle but firm grip.
Tingles radiated up my arm, sparked by his touch.
The business card slipped from my fingers and fluttered to the ground. He picked it up before I had a chance. I saw curiosity on his face as he read the print before handing the card to me.
“You’re a private investigator?” he said with a mixture of surprise and interest.
“No.” I didn’t offer any further response. As far as I was concerned, this encounter had already stretched on far too long.
I was about to turn away when he spoke again.
“I like the hair accessories. Very…earthy.” That amused twinkle was back in his eyes.
My hand shot to my head, patting around. He reached out and snagged something from my hair, holding it up for me to see.
A twig.
“Doesn’t quite match the dress, though.” He dropped the twig and brushed dirt from his hands.
Strong hands that…
I would most definitelynotimagine running over my body.
Nope, nope, nope.
I shoved all such thoughts aside.
“I appreciate your help, but I have somewhere I need to be.” I strode off with as much dignity as I could muster, considering that the heels of my boots kept sinking into the soft ground.
When I made it to the driveway, walking became easier, and Iregained some of my composure. Not that I’d had a whole lot to begin with.
I forced myself to keep my gaze fixed straight ahead. I didn’t want the guy catching me looking back at him. He might have been easy on the eyes, but I hoped I’d never see him again. The crumbled ruins of my dignity wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Besides, I needed to focus.
It was time to put Operation Make Hoffman Pay into action.
Chapter
Four
As soon as I stepped into the lobby, I could practically smell money. From the crystal chandelier above me to the leather couch and chairs in a sitting area to my left, everything shouted,Expensive!
To my relief, the woman behind the reception desk was busy talking to someone on the phone. I took out my own phone and stood next to the leather couch, pretending to type out a text message. I angled myself so that the woman wouldn’t be able to see my grazed knees and dinosaur bandage.
As I fake-typed on my phone, I surreptitiously glanced around the lobby, assessing my surroundings. Next to the reception desk was a door that led farther into the building. It had one of those security pads next to it on the wall, the kind that require a card to be swiped. As I was beginning to panic—again—that the plan was going to fall apart before I’d even found Hoffman, two women dressed in tennis outfits, with bags slung over their shoulders, entered the clubhouse, chatting. They waved at the receptionist as they crossed the lobby. One woman produced a key card and swiped it. The green light came on, and the door’s lock clicked. The women pushed their way through.
I knew this might be my only opportunity to get into the innersanctum. I fell into step behind the two women, doing my best to appear confident, like I totally belonged.
As the door swung closed behind the women, I put a hand out to stop it.
“Excuse me, ma’am!”
I froze and looked toward the receptionist. The door clicked shut, the sound ominous to my ears.
