“I don’t know, Savannah. How can I possibly answer that? I’ll be going home later, so if the opportunity was ever really here, it’s gone. There will be absolutely no cause for me to see him again.”
“Unless he calls.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he likes you.”
“He hates me.”
“What if he did call—would you see him?”
“Probably not,” Susan said, but she knew it was a lie. Sam Craig got to her. He annoyed her, frustrated her, excited her more than any man had in years. If he called her, she’d probably give him a hard time, but she’d probably see him, if only to find out whether the bulge in his jeans lived up to its promise. Then she’d dump him. He was, after all, just as unsuitable for her as she was for him.
***
“Hi, Savannah.” Jared’s deep voice sizzled over the line.
A breathless Savannah returned the greeting. “Hi there.”
“You sound like you just got in.”
She struggled to hold the phone, remove her coat, catch her breath, and talk at the same time. “I did. I was just coming down the hall when Janie signaled your call.”
“Want me to call back?”
“No, no. Give me a second.” Setting the phone on the desk, she hurried out of her coat and tossed it aside, unclipped her earring, put a hand to her chest, closed her eyes, and took a deep, measured breath. Then she picked up the phone again. “That’s better,” she said, knowing full well that the racing of her heart had nothing to do with the dash she’d made down the hall.
“How did it go?”
“Okay. He calmed down.”
“Have you been there all this time?” It was nearly four in the afternoon. He had dropped her off before noon.
“No. I had a meeting in Pawtucket. But I stayed at Will’s for a couple of hours. I wanted to spend a little time with Susan, too. This has taken something out of her.”
“Were you able to help her?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Did she help you?”
Savannah didn’t answer at first. Then, a slow, wry smile formed on her lips. “Was I looking that bad?”
“Not bad. Never bad. You just looked like you could use someone to talk to, and who better than a twin.”
“A sister,” she corrected. “We’re very different.”
“Okay, a sister. Did she help?”
Again Savannah paused. No, Susan had not helped, at least, not when it came to Jared. Susan’s mind was on all-out lovemaking, while Savannah was still debating a kiss.
A kiss was a milestone. It was a turning point. If Jared kissed her, their relationship would take a new path. If he kissed her, a barrier would be breached. All kinds of things were possible then, and that made her nervous, because she had expectations. She expected that she and Jared would be dynamite together in bed. Jared would be a spectacular lover; she’d be one in return. But what if he wasn’t? What ifshewasn’t? One part of her, the cowardly part, thought it better never to try, than to try it and fail. Then she could still have her dreams.
She sighed. “No, Susan wasn’t much help, not this time.” She cleared her throat. “Did you find anything in those records?”
Yielding to her change of subject only because he acknowledged the pressing issue behind her question, Jared said, “I learned that some crazy has a thing about red licorice. For the past three months he’s been bugging my receptionists about whether they like it. We’re talking one or two calls per receptionist, per week, not enough to warrant an official complaint, just enough to be annoying as hell. But that’s all, Savannah. I’ve pored through these papers three times, and there isn’t anything that could even remotely be suggestive of a kidnapping or the kind of ransom note you have. Maybe you should go over them yourself. Something may strike you that didn’t—”
“No. There’s nothing.” She sighed again, this time more wearily. “You were looking. If there’d been anything, you’d have seen it.” Instinctively, she trusted him. “Besides, the kidnappers have been so careful in every other aspect of this crime, I don’t know why I thought they’d leave tracks with you. It wouldn’t fit with the way they’ve worked.”
