As much as she loved high fashion, she refused to be jealous. She bought what she loved, lived within her means, and was only responsible for herself. Some people took lavish vacations or bought boats or luxury cars.
Tara preferred designer shoes and purses.
Not to project wealth, but becausethey made her feel good.
Together, she and the other woman retrieved the detritus of Tara’s life: a tube of her favorite-color lipstick, pepper spray, a small notebook, her wallet, several ball point pens, and a tampon. “Thank you.” Tara tried in vain to brush the salt from her clothing and to smooth out her damp hair. “Do you know if Annette is okay?”
“What do you mean?” The blonde lookedup from her own grooming. She had to be in her late forties, and was still beauty-queen gorgeous.
Tara could only hope to age so well. “Weren’t you just at her house?”
Bright blue eyes focused up the concrete walkway that led to the old row house. “Yes, but I was checking on my brother’s dog in the basement unit. Annette lives in the main house.”
“Oh.” Tara hadn’t consciously noticed thebark of a small dog coming from somewhere in the house until now. Turning in a circle to see if they’d missed anything, she plucked her phone from the grass and wiped it on a dry spot on her coat. When she held it up to her face, the phone unlocked. Thank God.
A school bus and several cars passed by on the street, but now that she and the blonde were standing, no one paid them any attention.
Digging through her purse, Tara found a pack of tissues. She offered one to the woman, who declined.
“Have a good day.” The blonde turned on her heeled boots and strode toward Wilson Boulevard.
“You too.” Tara cleaned up her knee as much as possible and made another attempt at setting herself to rights before carefully picking her way over the icy sidewalk toward the donut shop. Her bootsand jacket had taken the brunt of the damage, but any chance of showing up for work looking professional and polished were blown.
On the bright side, neither she nor the other woman had broken any bones or ended up with a concussion. She could reschedule with Annette. She was on her way to buy donuts. The day was looking up.
Ten minutes after eight, Tara swept into the office on high-heeledboots and gave Jeff Patarava a harried smile that made him a little lightheaded before she hung her jacket on a coat rack near the door.
“Good morning.” She circled the large mahogany desk that greeted visitors to Steele Security’s offices and plopped her large blue purse into a file drawer.
“Morning.” He frowned at her mussed hair and the damp, wrinkled skirt of her dress. And was that ascrape on the side of her knee? “Are you okay?”
He’d never once seen her with a strand of silky black hair out of place, or looking anything less than perfect. Not even after facing down Mars. Despite her short stature, all that beauty and poise and energetic perfection in one little package was as intimidating as a boot camp training instructor on the first day of Basic.
“Fine, thanks.” Tarastopped her progress toward the break room, carrying a bag emblazoned with the Dillman’s Donuts logo. “I was heading to a meeting in Arlington when I slipped on the ice right in front of another woman. We both went down.” Tara gestured to the salt smeared across the rear of her dress.
“Jesus. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” People broke arms, got brain injuries, even died from falls on the ice.
“I know. We both were.” Tara sighed. “Unfortunately, the reporter cancelled when I was seconds from her door.” She put on a false smile and shrugged. “Mondays, am I right? At least we have sugar. And coffee.”
He nodded and his lips twitched. God, she was perfect inside and out. How had some guy not snatched her up by now?
Jeff pointed to her knee. “Did you know you’re bleeding?”
She frownedand glanced down, her shoulders sagging on an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll go clean up.Youshould have a donut. Don’t make my sacrifice in vain.” She held out the bag. “But don’t touch the chocolate crunches. They’re mine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as he took the donuts and entered the break room. Somehow she always managed to pull him out of his dark moods. No one had coaxedmore smiles out of him in the last two months.
It was disconcerting, really. He ate half a maple donut in one bite, enjoying the burst of sugar on his tongue. He had to find joy where he could these days.
Passing the open bathroom door, Jeff’s stomach tumbled and he froze. Tara stood in profile with one foot on the toilet lid as she applied a bandage to her knee, her long hair hiding her face.The hem of her dress had slid back to reveal a whole lot of skin.
Far more than Jeff could handle.
Or had a right to see.
He turned away and stuffed the rest of the donut in his mouth as he emerged into the lobby. Tara was not for him, but damn if she didn’t tempt a man to wish otherwise.
“We have donuts?” Kurt Steele asked, closing the front door behind him and hanging his coat next toTara’s.
