Still… the idea ofMaggie Flame, the woman who commanded a room with a single glance, being afraid of anyone—it didn’t add up.
And yet, neither did anything else.
Why did I thinkIcould help her? She had influence, resources. People who mattered. If something truly dangerous were going on, wouldn’t she already have gone to the police?
Dangerous.
That word stuck.
What if Colin were involved somehow? And what did that make me, agreeing to another date with him? Naïve? Suicidal?
I shook my head to stop the overthinking. If there was a loose thread, I was sure to unravel it all the way into the strangest places in my head, and usually, it was blown way out ofproportion. Knowing this, I would usually have talked myself out of pulling at the thread.
The problem was that this time, Grant was right there with me. He’d gone with me to Maggie’s apartment building, searched for her car, broken into her office, and rummaged through her things. He’d entered Kirkman’s house and was going out on a fake date, for goodness’ sake!
There had to be something there if Grant was coming along with me on this crazy ride, right?
No matter how I wanted to twist this around, the familiar flutter in my stomach at the prospect of Saturday showed me only one thing—I was undeniably excited to go on another date with Colin, which meant Iwasin danger.
I was perilously close to falling for him.
The rest of the week crawled by, thick with anticipation. Grant and I agreed to reconvene on Sunday to discuss our “dates” and, hopefully, put some more pieces of the puzzle together.
I didn’t mention how eager I was for Saturday, especially with the flicker of irritation on Grant’s face when I told him about my date. I figured he would have been happy that I’d be able to dig for more information, but Colin was a sore subject with him.
My mother, however, was a different story. When I told her about this second date, I had to talk her down from planning my multi-million-dollar wedding.
“Mom,” I laughed, mortified. “We’ve been on one date.”
“Well, make the second one count!” she said.
She even involved her friend Lisa in the conversation. Lisa said she would get me the information for the wedding planner her sister’s niece used when she married a millionaire.
I thanked them both profusely, apologized for missing Roni’s birthday party, and promised my mom I’d visit her the followingweekend. She told me not to bother until next month because she’d agreed to drive to a bed-and-breakfast in the country with some friends.
When I wokeup Saturday morning, there was a nervousness I wasn’t able to shake. I wasn’t used to being duplicitous, and that’s what was going on here.
I must have changed outfits a dozen times. Was this too casual? Too eager? Too… investigative?
I received a reassuring text from Grant saying that he was getting ready for his date.
At least I wasn’t the only one being dishonest. Even though I was the one who’d had the idea for him to go out with Kaitlin, it was also hitting me how wrong it all was. And yet I continued applying my makeup, imagining that we’d find something through all of this “research” that would redeem us.
When my doorbell rang and I opened it to see Colin standing there looking devastatingly handsome, I forgot about everything except him.
He handed me a gorgeous bunch of sunflowers while saying, “The florist said these were the most joyful flowers, and I was reminded of you.”
Words failed me. It was as if the rug had been pulled from underneath my brain and all my thoughts were scattered incoherently on the ground. I’d never had words so lovely from a man.
When finally I recovered my faculties, I asked if he wanted to come in for a second while I put the flowers in water. As soon as he crossed my threshold, I wondered if I’d just invited a vampire into my home. I laughed internally at my silliness and found a vase under the kitchen sink.
He looked around as I arranged the flowers, taking in the photos I’d displayed under the television. After that, he looked at the paintings on the wall.
“That’s some very cool art,” he said.
I blushed. “I did that. Years ago.”
His head turned sharply toward me. “You’re kidding. You’re an artist?
