“Let’s get the heck out of here before Helene comes back.” Charlotte shoved her laptop in her bag and clipped it shut. “That woman is a menace.”
“You handled her perfectly,” he said. “Do you need anything else besides your laptop?”
She glanced around her office.
“Only this.” Charlotte grabbed the small, framed photo of her and her mom in front of their tent with the glow from a campfire lighting their faces.
It was one of her favorite pictures.
“Good, I’d like to get out of here before Pennington comes looking for you himself.” Hawk relieved her of her bag, hung it over his shoulder, and laced his fingers with hers.
“I’m sure Helene went back to her office.” She looked down at their joined hands. “So you don’t have to pretend right now.”
“We need everyone to think we’re dating. Besides, I like holding your hand.” He turned to his dog. “Remy, break.”
The dog stood, did a downward dog stretch with a yawn, then moved up next to him so Hawk could grab his leash.
Charlotte locked her office, said goodbye to a few people she happened to make eye contact with, and headed toward the elevators.
“You like to camp?” Hawk nodded his head toward the frame.
“I do.” She lifted the photo and looked at it. “I love the smell of a campfire, cooking over an open flame, and when there is a slight chill, I hunker down in my sleeping bag and sleep like a baby.”
“Back home, on the reservation, there’s a spot where I love to set up camp alongside a river that cuts through a beautiful valley.” He waited for her to swipe her ID, pushed the door open, and tapped the elevator call button.
“Sounds amazing.” The strangest feeling came over her—as if she was being watched.
“You okay?” Hawk looked at her with concern.
She leaned close and whispered, “I just always feel like I’m being watched.”
The elevator doors slid open.
“That’s because you are.” Hawk put his hand on the small of her back, they stepped into the elevator, and he pushed the button for the garage.
As the doors swished shut, the elevator hummed, and Charlotte accepted there was a good chance she might never be able to set foot in this building again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Leonardlockedhisofficeand headed out early, something he rarely did. He strolled over to the shop and spoke to Oscar, his head mechanic. The guy was a magician with engines.
“When will those rigs be operational again?” Two of his commercial buses had overheated during their last two pickups. “I’ve got a seriously tight delivery schedule and need those things on the road a-sap.”
“We’ll have ’em up and runnin’ by tomorrow afternoon, boss.” Oscar wiped grease from his hands with a red shop towel. “All we had to do was—”
“Oscar.” Leonard held up his hand to cut off the mechanic’s detailed description of what he did to fix them. “I trust you.” He clapped him on the back. “Thanks for gettin’ that done.”
“No problem.” Oscar nodded, turned, and tossed the rag on a tool bench on his way to where an engine block hung by some large chains.
Leonard did his daily walk of the entire lot, checking things out on his way to where he parked his car. He rounded the corner of the building, and there sat his baby—a 1975 Cadillac Eldorado convertible in Commodore Blue Metallic.
With the way the sun shone off her, she looked like a damn angel.
As a kid, he’d seen one cruising down the street and swore that someday he’d have one of his own. As soon as he was making decent money, he’d put out feelers and started looking all over for one. Finally, after almost two years of searching, he found his dream car in Ohio, of all places, and had it loaded onto one of his flatbeds and transported back to him.
He admired the original paint job as he smoothed his hand along the edge of the roof like he was caressing a naked woman.
Leonard was pretty sure he loved the car more than he ever loved his wife. Maybe even more than he loved his damn ungrateful kids.
