“I think so,” Gemma said. “Thanks to you.”
Serene shook her head. “I wish I had known what was going on and could’ve helped you sooner.”
Gemma had called Serena when she’d been broke with nowhere to stay, and Serena had instantly created this situation for her. Safety and an income for a brief time. “I owe you, but I’m not entirely sure where Monty is. What about you? Are you safe?” she teased, forcing lightnessinto her voice.
Instead of smiling, Serena frowned. “In the same boat as you. I’m not certain.”
Gemma stilled. “What are youtalking about?”
Serene looked over her shoulder and then leaned closer to the computer. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, and I can handle it. For now,how’s my girl?”
“She’s good.” Trudy was more than good, in fact. “Feeling safe, which iswhat matters.”
“I wish you felt safe,” Serena said quietly, her dark eyes sympathetic.
Gemma nodded. “Me too. But there’s nothing I can do that I’m not already doing.” Going to the authorities without proof of Monty’s violent temper wouldn’t get her anywhere, and all that mattered was protecting Trudy. If Monty ever discovered he had a daughter, God only knew what he’d do. Without question, he’d kill Gemma, and then where would Trudy be? With him. With no criminal record, with no proof that he was a monster, he’d be granted partial custody at the very least. It was the law, and there was no way around it. “I’ve met your Dr. Hanson.”
Serena finally grinned. “He’s not mine, but he’s a great guy.”
Gemma had no reason for asking, but she couldn’t help herself. “Is there anything between you?”
Serena laughed now. “No. I mean, he’s attractive and all, but after that mix-up with our offices was straightened out, we ended up just friends. Too much alike, I think. Plus, he likes to get around, and that’s not my thing.” Her expression turned dreamy. “I want to meet somebody totally different from me. Someone more…rugged.” She shrugged. “Maybe I have. I actually have a date tomorrow night. What about you?”
Gemma shook her head. “Being on the run doesn’t give one much chance to date.”
Serena sobered. “You can’t run forever.”
A chill spread through Gemma’s chest. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” They chatted for a few minutes and then Serena said she had to go. Gemma ended the call and shut the laptop, her awareness pricking as several people walked into the coffee shop as if a concert had been let out or something. Soon all the tables were filled.
A man approached her table, a cup of coffee in his hand and his light brown eyes sparkling. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I take this seat?” He looked over his shoulder at all the occupied tables. “We’re having a symposium in the warehouse down the street and we’re on a thirty-minute break.”
She paused. The guy didn’t look like a private detective, and all of the tables were full. “Sure.” She’d need to be getting on her way soon.
“Thank you.” He pulled out the chair and dropped gracefully into it, setting his coffee on the table. “You’re very kind. I didn’t see you at the symposium?” His hair was a thick, dark brown, and his smile revealed a dimple in his left cheek. What was up with handsome men and dimples these days?
“No. I’m just passing through,” she said, reclaiming her cup. “What’s the symposium about?”
“Wood,” he said, nodding. “I represent a couple of lumber companies up in Pennsylvania, and the symposium is one dealing with better lasers for more exact cuts. It’s pretty interesting, actually.” He drank his coffee.
“What does that mean? How do you represent the lumber companies?”
“I work for a PAC that protects their interests politically. Learning about lasers is just part of what I need to know.” He leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling. “Plus, lasers are cool. So I said I’d attend the two-day demonstrations.”
She smiled. How long had it been since she’d been able to sit and have a normal conversation with a handsome man? Sure, Jethro Hanson was sexy, but she couldn’t get close to anybody at the university. This guy was here for less than half an hour, and she was going to enjoy herself. “It’s nice of you to take onefor the team.”
His chuckle was deep. “So true. What doyou do anyway?”
“I’m a struggling author,” she lied, keeping her smile in place. “My father created one of those dot.com companies and sold it twenty years ago, so I have the freedom to keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll get a real job.”
“Writing is a real job,” he said, all charm. “Whatdo you write?”
“Thrillers,” she said. “You know. Serial killers, good guys, bad guys, lots of danger?” Based on her life, she’d probably qualify to do so.
His strong throat moved as he swallowed more of the cinnamon-scented brew. “That sounds like fun. Do you have any life experience or do you just make it all up?”
She finished her drink. “I’ve never worked as a serial killer, but I guess I’m still young.”
His laugh was deep and rich. Oddly familiar. The guy looked like he could be in movies or something; maybe he’d had a former life, just as she had? “Well, don’t start your new career with me. I like my heart beating in my chest.” He looked around the now-bustling coffee shop, sobering. “I also like my freedom.”
