CHAPTER FOUR
DANIEL
DANIELLEANEDONhis bike and closed his eyes against the intermittent flashing of the Phil’s Place sign. He could still see red light pulsing from behind his eyelids. She was in there. He should go in. He wanted to go in. Last night, he’d stood in this spot for an hour, then gone home. There was alcohol in there. And while he and alcohol were not enemies, they certainly were not friends.
He caught his reflection in one of the windows to Phil’s Place and quickly looked away. Large windows gave him a view of the older man with salt-and-pepper hair standing behind the bar. The red neon Phil’s Place sign obstructed his view of anything more.
He didn’t even want a drink. But Annika Mehta was in there.
Jesus Christ. He didn’t know what disgusted him more: his fear of a drink or his fear of facing a woman.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Before he could think too much more about it, he grabbed the wrought-iron door handle and pulled. A couple of scantily clad young girls followed by a couple of very drunk young men nearly fell on him as he opened the door. Much giggling ensued as Daniel pushed past them.
Daniel braced himself for the stale aroma of old alcohol and the dank darkness typical of such establishments. He paused at the welcoming aroma of hearty food in the well-lit, simply appointed establishment. A piano in the corner caught his eye. He firmly ignored it.
Phil’s Place bustled, even at nine thirty on a Thursday night. The door jingled, announcing his entrance, but no one seemed to care. He found himself a spot at the bar and dipped his chin in the older man’s direction. Must be Phil. He was expertly filling beers and nodded his acknowledgment. Daniel waited.
He scanned the place, looking for that ponytail. Wouldn’t it just be his luck that he came in on the day that she was off? But what if she was here? What would he say to her anyway? He should leave. If he told her how he knew her, it would only bring to the surface something she may want to forget.
This was a bad idea. He turned on his stool and made to leave when a woman’s voice called to him.
“Weren’t you here the other night?”
Daniel turned to face mahogany-brown eyes that were narrowed at him. The woman’s lips were pursed, and her brow furrowed with the question. She wore her hair back in a ponytail, which Daniel knew hid beautiful dark tight curls. Even though he’d walked in here looking for her, he was caught off guard, and a few extra seconds ticked by before he gathered himself to speak. A slight flush built in her cheeks as he stared at her.
“Um, no. I think I would remember that.”
“Sure, you were here—with the fire engine.” She pointed to his jeans and T-shirt. “You were wearing a uniform, but I’m pretty sure it was you.”
“Ah, yes. The gunshot victim.” Daniel nodded. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Yeah. You were the one who faltered.” There was no challenge in her voice, just fact.
“Excuse me?”
“You just stopped in the middle of treating that man.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I saw. Most people watch the victim. I watch the medics.” She shrugged. “Excuse me if I stepped on your manhood.”
Daniel grinned.She’d noticed him.“I hesitated a moment, and my partner took over.” He studied her face. “In any case, it happens almost never. And my partner is great.”
“So, I wasn’t wrong. You faltered.” She waved her hand at the bar. “Can I get you something?”
Her flowery scent wafted toward him as he sat down again. “Bourbon. Rocks.”
She left to retrieve his drink without so much as another word. He tried not to stare as she chose the bottle and the glass, plunking a large ice cube into it before pouring him two fingers of what looked like relatively cheap bourbon. Her movement was fluid and graceful. She was just a couple of inches shorter than Phil, whom Daniel put as a couple of inches shorter than his own six foot one.
Phil muttered something to her that made her smile and shake her head as she walked back to Daniel with his drink. The smile transformed her. It was light and pure and filled with humor. He didn’t think he would ever be able to get enough of that smile.
So lost was he in her smile and movements that he startled when she set his drink down. He swirled it around.Say something.Conversation was not coming easy. Forget conversation—speaking was a challenge. Annika walked away.
Daniel stared at the drink. It wasn’t that he couldn’t control how much he drank. It was what happened to him when he did. He let everyone believe that he had stopped drinking because he couldn’t afford to lose his job, but the truth was something darker.
“Aren’t you going to drink it?” Annika was back, a look of bewilderment on her face.
“I don’t drink.”
