“I’ll bring her in tomorrow.” He stood up, towering over Bullon and the table and the twirling pen. “You find my dad.” Smacking his fist once more on the table, he stormed from theroom.
Chapter Twenty
Maia walkedoff the simple black stage to roaring applause. April greeted her with a lukewarm water bottle for her throat and her cell phone. “He’s been lighting you up for the last fourhours.”
Maia laughed. London wasn’t the most patient of men. If she didn’t answer a text right away, he sent three more before he relented. They were supposed to go out tonight. He should be on a plane right now. Or maybe even at the airport, wondering where to meet her. Her body hummed withexcitement.
No matter how much she tried to play this down, how many times she told herself not to get too excited because it was one date, her body didn’t listen. It was like her cells were listening to her heart instead of her head. Her heart was indubitably pro-London. The darn organ couldn’t see the importance of a state of self-preservation. Her good sense was the only thing standing between the havoc London Wilder could wreak and her tenderheart.
Case in point: she’d been invited to a party with some of her old theater mates and turned the invitation down because she’d rather wander around Time Square gazing into London’s soulful eyes than be in a room with a hundred people who had been her closest friends. She’d need to introduce London to them—eventually. They were taking it S.L.O.W., she remindedherself.
“Hello?” she answeredinnocently.
“Hi.” His reply was low, and so were hisspirits.
“You sound down. Is everything okay?” A horrible thought filled her head. “Did that guy come back to your mom’sshop?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m not going to make ittonight.”
She checked the tiny digital clock. “You’re teasing me. Your plane landed an hour ago.” April had kept her up-to-date on London’s flight and hotel: he was staying in the same hotel but on a different floor—all on his own dime. He’d made the reservations and sent the confirmation page to Aprilhimself.
“I wish I were. Something’s comeup.”
She put her hand on her hip. “What?”
“I can’tsay.”
The old feeling of being locked out of the most important parts of London resurfaced. Her body quaked with rejection. “Please, London, don’t shut meout.”
He cleared his throat. “It does have something to do with the guy who broke into my mom’s flowershop.”
“Oh my gosh! Now you have to tellme.”
“I was at the police station today—they recommended I not leavetown.”
“That doesn’t make sense … Unless … they can’t have listed you as a suspect. That’s just ridiculous. Give me the detective’s name and I’ll vouch for you. I can’t believe they would even think you could be capable of destroying your mom’s business. I’m serious, London, text mehis—”
“Maia? Maia!” He cut into her tirade. “They don’t think I didit.”
“Oh.” She straightened up, unaware that she’d bent forward as she yammered into the phone. “Well, why can’t youcome?”
He sighed, and she pictured him running his hand down his perfectly designed face. “They think it was a stalker. The guy was mad he couldn’t get to me, so he went after Mom’sshop.”
“London—that’s horrible.” She groped for the wall to lean against, her injured leg suddenly feeling twenty pounds heavier and her body full of helium. “Do they know who heis?”
“The police have a solid lead and just need to catch the guy.” His brittle voice was distantagain.
Shecursed.
“That’s a pretty harsh word for such a prettymouth.”
“Is hedangerous?”
“Not tome.”
She pressed her lips flat. “London, don’t feed me a grammatically correct line. I want an honestanswer.”
“He’s dangerous, but only to me, and I can handle myself.” She could hear the slight warble in his words, like he’d rather run two-a-day practices for a month than be anywhere near this creep. He was shaken and wasn’t about to admitit.
