Page 3 of Memories of You

I frown. A former co-worker who quit about a month ago,Travis and I went out a couple of times. I’d thought he wanted to date. Hethought we just wanted to fool around. It was rough for a while, but we workedit out. “We’re still friends,” I say. “And his aura is fine. Besides, he’s inOrange County. If he was obsessed with me, he’d have hung around.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “But that leaves us back at the app.It’s probably some guy who figured out who you were from your profile pictureand is bummed because you didn’t pick him from the masses. Or another one ofthe guys you went out for drinks with. We can rule out retro game boy, but didany of the others seem the stalky type?”

I consider that. “Not really.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe you should reach out to them anyway. Seeif any of them acts all shifty-eyed.”

I make a face. The last thing I want to do is to reach outto guys I didn’t hit it off with as friends or romantic partners. “I’m thinkingabout opting for the ignore it and it will go away plan.”

To her credit, she laughs. “Well, that’s one way. Andhonestly, I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s just some asshole. How dangerous cana mouth breather be?”

Since I’m a huge horror movie fan, I don’t answer. But thesound of Michael Myers breathing immediately starts to play in my head. Great.

“Let’s continue this at home tonight. Cocktails on theporch?”

“Definitely,” I say, and we end the call.

Since my laptop is already in my tote, I don’t have to headback inside. Instead, I go straight to my car, which is parked on the street.Usually I park in the garage, but I’d popped out in the afternoon and there wasa spot right there, so I grabbed it. Now I’m coming up on the rear of the cutelittle blue Fiat I bought when Nikki made me a partner.

I veer to the left toward the driver’s side, then slow,because something isn’t right. It takes a second for my mind to catch up withreality, but once I’ve reached the driver’s side door, there’s no escaping thetruth.

My knees go weak, and I reach out, grabbing the side of thecar to keep from falling. Because the hood of my car is covered in somethingviscous and red, and I’m pretty damn sure that it’s blood.

Chapter Two

Renly Cooper leaned back against the desk that he’d beenassigned when he joined Stark Security a few weeks ago. Honestly, it seemedlonger. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if he’d found a home. Apurpose.

And God knew a guy like him needed purpose in his work,because he sure as hell wasn’t mining it from his personal life.

From across the room, Linda Starr waved at him, thenmotioned for him to come join. He grinned, then nodded as he pushed off thedesk. He’d only recently met Linda and her husband—or rather her ex-husband-soon-to-be-husbandagain—but he’d taken an instant liking to both of them. Hell, to everyone onthe team.

He only hoped he could live up to their expectations of him.He’d been honest with Damien Stark and Ryan Hunter about the injury that hadcaused him to leave the SEALs, but he’d been a little vague on the details. Thetruth was, they wanted someone with Hollywood connections, and he’d wanted ajob with a bit more gravitas. Now he was looking forward to escaping theHollywood spotlight and taking some of the international assignments that heknew were becoming more and more frequent for the growing agency.

“You’re looking happy,” Linda said. “I hope that means I’mgoing to enjoy it here, too. Us newbies need to stick together.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the kind of job I was born for,” hesaid honestly. “Solid tactical and investigative operations on a global scale.It’ll be a nice change from working on movie sets.”

“A big change from your SEAL work for sure, but it must havebeen interesting.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I want to be in the field. Nothelping choreograph a fictional version of the field.”

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as if he was apuzzle she couldn’t figure out. “So why’d you do it in the first place?”

He grimaced. “Long story,” he said, which was technicallytrue. “I’ll lay it out for you one day. I didn’t hate it—not by a long shot.And I met lots of interesting people.”

She trilled a laugh. “Yeah, the whole town’s seen picturesof you and those interesting people.”

“Yeah, well—”

She waved his words away. “I’m just giving you grief. Sorry.Bottom line is you liked it, but it wasn’t what you were made to do.”

“Exactly.”

“Then it’s good you’re here. Nice to have another freshmanin the class. And your Hollywood connections are handy, right? I mean, you gotme and Winston into that party.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did.” He’d dated superstar FrancescaMuratti longer than he should have, and her guilty pleasure was to go to thosekinds of clubs and show just enough skin as she exited the limo that theinevitable tabloid reporters couldn’t resist publishing the pictures. She’dleave the really kinky stuff to the private rooms, but she knew how to getpress, even if it wasn’t the kind of press Renly liked.

“I’m glad that worked out for you,” he added. She andWinston had gone into the sex party together as part of an operation, but heknew damn well they’d had issues of their own to work on, too.