“Let me know if you need anything else.” He winked and ambled back to his desk.
Cassidy went to work making follow-up calls to recent clients, just to make sure everything was okay. She had a couple of messages from people who wanted to hire her, one that required going undercover as a CPA to find out if an employee was embezzling money, another from a distraught housewife who wanted her husband followed.
Cassidy referred Lissa for the CPA job and Dante for the housewife. “Romeo” Romero had a way of cheering up lonely, abandoned women.
Beau called once, but he was still working, which gave her time to go home and change before they went out. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, walking distance unless she needed her car or the weather was bad, and close to the neighborhood gym she hit three or four times a week.
It was dark outside by the time she was finished and ready to leave. By then, everyone was gone except Jase. Her phone rang again and she checked the caller ID, smiled as she pressed it against her ear. “Hey . . .”
“Hey, baby, you ready for something to eat?”
The endearment rolled over her and her stomach floated up. Sometimes when they made love he called her Cassie. She liked it way too much.
Dammit to hell, why did it have to be him? Why not someone else? Someone not in love with a ghost?
She had always wanted the kind of relationship her parents had, both of them madly in love till the day her mom had died. She could still remember hearing them upstairs at night, laughing softly in the darkness. Remember the summer holidays, the two of them lying on the beach side by side, her mom feeding him potato chips, him grinning. He would call sometimes just to tell her he loved her.
Her throat tightened. Maybe someday . . .
Cassidy bit back a sigh. “I’m definitely hungry,” she said. “Even a greasy burger sounds good right now.”
Beau chuckled. “You won’t believe the food in this place I’m taking you.”
“I can’t wait to try it. I’m heading out right now, on my way home to change.” Slinging the strap of her laptop over her shoulder, Cassidy tucked the phone beneath her chin, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.
“How about you wear something like that little black dress I saw in the guest-house closet. That and nothing else would be good.”
Oh, wow. The little black dress was still hanging in Beau’s closet, but going out with no underwear was such an erotic thought her belly clenched. “You are a very wicked man.”
He laughed as she arrived at her car door. She was digging for her keys when she heard the roar of an engine, followed by the squeal of tires. Glancing up, she saw abeat-up brown sedan roaring toward her, the car weaving, the driver obviously drunk.
“Oh, my God!” There was no escape, no time to run and nowhere to go. The phone slipped from her nerveless fingers and clattered to the pavement. Fear slammed through her as she dropped to the asphalt and rolled beneath the car, banging her head in the process, feeling the sharp sting of broken glass slicing into her arm.
The sound of grinding metal and a rush of air hit her as the car plowed into the side of the Honda, careened off and kept going, speeding on down the road. For several moments, Cassidy lay under her car, breathing in the smell of motor oil and rubber, trying to stop trembling.
“Cassidy! Cassidy!” Heavy footfalls pounded toward her; a pair of long legs and big feet in cowboy boots appeared in her line of vision. “Cassidy!”
She turned her head to look at Jase, who crouched down next to the car. “I’m . . . I’m okay.” Trying to avoid bits of hot metal and more broken glass, she eased herself out from under the vehicle.
Jase stared down the road but the car was long gone. “Crazy fuck.” He led her over to the sidewalk and eased her onto the curb. Glancing down at herself, she saw that her sweater was torn and covered with grime, the knees of her leggings ripped open and the skin scraped bloody underneath.
Jase saw the gash in her forearm and swore again. Pulling a handkerchief out of the back pocket of his jeans, he wrapped it around the cut on her arm. “Press down on this. You might need stitches. I’ll drive you to the emergency room and you can get it checked out.”
Her head was spinning, her pulse still hammering. Suddenly she remembered she’d been on the phone with Beau and realized he had probably heard the accident as it happened. He’d be frantic.
“Can you find my cell? If it still works, I need to make a call.”
A siren sounded in the distance. The cops were on the way. Beau had probably called them. Jase retrieved her purse and laptop and set them down on the curb beside her. He handed over her phone, which was battered but still working, and she punched in Beau’s number. There was panic in his voice when he picked up.
“Cassidy! What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m . . . I’m okay. Some drunk nearly ran me over. I’m pretty banged up, but I’m . . . I’m okay.”
His voice steadied. He was back in control. “The cops are on the way. So am I. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.” She could hear the roar of the powerful Ferrari engine, knew he was driving like a maniac to get there.
She nodded, though Beau couldn’t see. “Okay.”
“I’m coming, baby. Just hang on.” The line went dead. Her head hurt. Her arm throbbed and her knees burned. Jase’s handkerchief was covered with blood. When her hand started shaking, he took the phone and tucked it into her purse.
