“And who are you?” Maggie demanded of Lana, as Griffin accelerated.
“Lana.”
“Lana who?”
Griffin answered. “Let’s keep this to first names.”
Maggie glared at him. “How do you know my boy?” she asked Lana cloyingly.
“Uh, I don’t. We both got left behind on set, that’s all.”
Maggie leaned in, coquettish. “Oh, go on, looks to me you know him better than that. You can tell Momma. Who would I tell?” She grimaced. “Who would believe me?”
“I honestly never spoke to Griffin until today—yesterday,” Lana corrected, since it was well past midnight.
“You’re not a stalker, are you?” Maggie’s head lurched toward Griffin. “Is she a stalker?”
Griffin grunted. “I really hope not, Maggie.”
“Momma!”
Griffin groaned.
“If there’s nothing going on, why were you two flirting back there? ‘In libraries there’s a hierarchical numbering convention,’” Maggie said, mimicking Lana, before moving on to Griffin. “‘Ooh, fascinating.’”
Griffin blasted the horn as they slowed to a halt at the security gate. The barrier arm was up, and the guard shack was dark—the power had to be off. After a delay, the guard they’d spotted earlier slid a long window open. Her bleary eyes focused on Griffin, and she snapped straight, clutching the sill.
“Mr. Hart?” She looked at Maggie, her eyes bugging. “Are you being kidnapped?”
“I hope not. You guys got a sat phone?”
She nodded.
“Call the cops. Tell them we have trespassers on set. Sit tight until they arrive—could be you were drugged.”
“Not by me, this time!” Maggie proclaimed.
“This time?” Griffin said.
“Nothing harmful! Tried it on myself first. Best sleep of my life.”
“That time you snuck onto my street and dug through my trash? You drugged the guards?”
“I had some cupcakes delivered to them. Everyone’s a sucker for cupcakes—all pretty icing and tied up with ribbons in a cutebox. Little thank-you note from the boss for all the hard work. You should be grateful I found the glitch in the system! It could have been someone fishy!”
“Imagine that,” Griffin deadpanned.
“I couldn’t get inside your house though, so credit where it’s due. You know what, Sweetie? We should go into business testing celebrity defenses! How much would someone pay for that? ‘We stalk you so your stalkers can’t!’”
The security guard rubbed her forehead, looking around the office. “The cameras are down.” She grabbed something and tossed it into a corner. “Hey, losers, wake up!”
They left the guards making calls and hit the coastal road, Lana trying to zone out Maggie’s excited chatter. She wished she’d worn extra layers, with the salty wind whipping them. She took out her ponytail and tied her hair in a messy bun. Griffin also ignored Maggie, though she didn’t seem to notice. Sweetie gazed at him adoringly.
Lana rubbed the side of her belly. It stung like a burn. Wait—it was a burn, from the Taser! There was another on her arm—and her left hip was sore from the fall. She’d been tased! And a vicious taste of hell it was—her body on fire, every muscle seizing. The kind of pain where you dropped into a different existence for … how long was it? Only seconds? And then the cool wash of relief at the pain ebbing and the sensation of being lifted and carried away. She’d felt irrationally safe.
As they reached Fitch’s dark, sleepy main street, pain bit into her scalp. “Ow!” Beside her, Sweetie held up several strands of her hair, smiling.
“What’s going on back there? Sweetie, you leave her alone!” To Lana, she said, “She’s jealous—she can sense the chemistry!” Maggie held a finger in the air between Lana and Griffin and pretended to get an electric shock. “Ouch! You see? You’ve done well to keep things a secret. But then, you’re not his usual type.”She smacked Griffin lightly on the shoulder, and he recoiled. “Clever of you, baby, dating someone like that. Everyone will figure she’s your assistant or your cleaner. She could stand right next to you and no one would even see her!”
