I glance around me in search of a weapon, but there’s nothing. Oh well, guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.
Reaching down, I whip off my shoes. At least if I have to run, I’ll be able to do it easily. Not only that; these stilettos have a killer heel on them. One thunk to the forehead and he’ll get the message. I might even be able to take out an eye.
There’s another noise from the basement and my rage ratchets up a notch.
Okay. It’s die time.
I creep across the store, raising a shoe. My heart jackhammers against my ribs.Thud, thud, thud.
I hear footsteps across the concrete floor of the basement. Then, footsteps on the stairs.Thud, thud, thud.
The footsteps climb higher. With each step, my heart beats harder, faster.Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud.
I keep myself back behind the railing, crouching out of view. Surprise is crucial. And then—I can’t fucking believe it—I hear whistling. This asshole is not only in my store, he’s relaxed enough that he’s whistling merrily as he goes about ripping me off.
That. Is.It.
I leap up from my crouching position just as he reaches the top of the stairs. “Arrrghhhh!” I scream, lunging toward him. I’ve never felt such a rush of fury and it’s intoxicating—it’s working through me so that I’m no longer in control. I can’t see straight, I’m not thinking, I just hurl myself at the figure, bringing the shoe down onto his head.
But before I can make contact, he grabs my wrists, spins me around and pins me face-first against the wall, and I realize much too late that I’ve made a terrible mistake. Of course I can’t take on an intruder with a stiletto. What was I thinking?
I shrivel against the wall with my heart thrashing in my chest, pressing my eyes shut, waiting for a hand to strike me. But nothing happens. And as I just stand there cowering, my senses come back online and I inhale a lungful of familiar cologne.
My eyes fly open and I twist around to see Myles, inches from the back of me, holding me against the wall. His nostrils are flared, his brow pulled low, his breathing heavy.
“Holy shit, woman. What thehellare you doing?”
Relief crashes through me so violently that I sag back against him, catching my breath, clutching my stomach. He turns me around, gaping at me. Never in my life have I been so happy to see someone.
Before I know it, I’m laughing. I’m laughing so hard my shoulders are shaking and I’m struggling to stand. Myles pulls a stool up behind me and nudges me back onto it, peering into my face with concern.
I wipe my eyes, trying to pull it together, waiting for my pulse to slow. He disappears down the stairs then reappears, handing me a glass of water. I down it gratefully, then set it on the counter with an embarrassed look.
“I thought you were an intruder,” I say at last.
He stares at me incredulously, hands on his hips. “And you were going to kill me with a shoe?”
“Not kill,” I say, lifting my chin. “Just… maim.”
“Jesus, Cat. That’s crazy. If you thought I was an intruder you should have called the police, not confronted me.”
“I know,” I mumble. “I was just so angry I couldn’t see straight.”
“Why are you here, anyway?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I told you I was going to come in to photograph some of your dresses for the site.” He gestures to the front table where there’s a fancy camera sitting.
Oh. I didn’t see that through my rage-induced haze. Come to think of it, he did mention something the other day about all that.
“Hayley left me a key to lock up,” he adds.
I put my elbows on the counter and lower my head into my hands. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ve just had the worst night.” I glance up at Myles, giving him a weak smile. “Still, at least I didn’t get almost beaten to death with a stiletto.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s what would have happened.” He pulls a stool up beside me. “Why was your night so bad? I mean, before this.”
“Ugh, just… Shane stuff. I don’t want to bore you with it.” Silence falls over us and I shift uncomfortably, wishing we were at the bar. “I could use a drink, actually.”
