Her fingers clutch my shirt before she pulls back, wiping her eyes. “I was searching Dom’s office for information, and he caught me.”
Ice floods my veins as I think about the conversation with Dom at the golf game. “Christ, Amara. You can’t do that to Dom.” My stomach drops. “How did Dom react to finding you in his office?”
“At first he was angry, but then he was too calm.” She swallows. “He thinks I was looking for my passport.” She wraps her arms around herself.
“But you were looking for information to give your blackmailer.” I blow out a deep breath as she nods. “Tell Dom.”
“No!”
“It’s the best way. He’ll tell you the best way to deal with it.”
“And I’ll have to tell him about the Pampered Princess website and why I was on there.”
“Why were you, Amara?” I ask. “You don’t need the money.”
“I do.” Her voice lowers. “I have a nice car to drive. I get a weekly allowance, but it’s only enough to buy lunch and gas. Not enough to...”
Her eyes land on me. “You planned to run away from here.”
She nods. “I have to. I’m frightened, Caleb.”
“It’s probably an idle threat. Dom will hunt the blackmailer and the consequences will be dire for them.”
“I know... That’s why I was thinking about who it was, and when you mentioned your brother.”
“You think it’s me? Is this you trying to put me off?”
She shakes her head. “I know you would never do that to me, but your brother...” She touches my arm. “Detective Miles. What kind of cases does he handle?”
“Organized crime, mainly. Why?”
“Would he...would he do something like blackmail to get ahead?”
“Jack would never do something like that. He’s straight as an arrow. But honestly Amara , I don't speak to him a great deal.”
She slumps in her seat. “I…I just…I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
I watch as a car pulls into the parking space in front of us, blocking our view of the dance studio.
A family with two toddlers dressed in leotards and tutus gets out of the car. The little girls hold hands as they head to their lesson.
We’re near to the ocean, and the waves crashing against golden sand are now the only sound in the car. But my focus keeps returning to Amara’s tear-stained face.
“Come to my home after this and we’ll write everything down. Times, dates, messages. There might be a patternwe’re missing.”
“You’d help me?” Her blue eyes search mine.
“Of course I would.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “I want you, Amara. Not as a sugar baby client. I want all of you.”
“You do?” Her voice hitches.
“I need to see you again.” The words come out rougher than intended. “Properly. Not just these stolen moments. Or seeing you on the website.”
Her breath catches. “Caleb... We said it had to end.”
“It never began, Amara. And I realize I want it to.”
“But it’s complicated...”
