Well, the truth was that I fell on my ass and got the job, but he didn’t need to know that.
“She said something about it,” he answered, his tone firmer than I expected.
“Something wrong?” I asked, leaning in ever-so-slightly.
“That night club, right?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.
“That’s the goal,” I answered. “The truth is, it was barely a pit in the ground when I got there. The guy who owns the place wouldn’t know contemporary from alt contemporary if the theming slapped him in the face.”
Dalton’s eyes glazed over, and he blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Which is why you shouldn’t open a night club, either,” I said with a reprimanding point of my finger. “But I’ve made good headway since I got there. I actually need to get back before long. Tonight is the grand opening, and there’s—”
“I don’t think you should work there anymore,” he said, then he swigged his coffee again.
I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, I’m sure you’re good at what you do—great, probably. But I’ve been around since the last time we’ve seen each other, Char. I know things now—things I sometimes wish I didn’t. Places like that and girls like you … they don’t mix.”
Suddenly, I felt acutely aware of what I was wearing, of every inch of exposed skin and every fleck of makeup. I was right back there with that drunkard, being judged by my clothes and appearance.
“Girls like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He shook his head and pushed his coffee aside. “This case I’m on … it’s getting to me more than it should.”
“The girl on the missing poster?” I asked.
“I’m not really allowed to talk about that,” he answered.
“Do you have any idea who did it?” I asked, my heart racing. He knew about this more than I did, and we were both avoiding the elephant in the room—that the missing girl looked a helluva-lot like me.
“There are a lot of awful people in the world, Char.” His hand fell and hovered over his pistol. I wondered if he even realized he was doing that. “And they tend to congregate in those sorts of places … clubs...the nightlife scene.”
“I meant it when I said I could take care of myself,” I said, splaying my hands across the table. “It’s cute that you’re worried about me. Really, it is. But if you’re curious about what kind of girl I am,” I said, harkening back to his earlier phrase, “I’m going to tell you that I’m not the sort who gets scared off easily. All this talk of missing girls and howling things in the woods—it just doesn’t do much for me.”
“Doesn’t much matter what it does for you. Still poses a threat to the women in our town.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, ticking my head to the side. “Well, buddy, let me tell you. I’ve lived scarier places than New Haven.” I had to hold back a giggle at the thought. Big Bad New Haven. Yeah. This single murder was the most action they’d had in decades. “I’ve lived in the city, Dalton. I’ve worked the graveyard shift for a year and a half. Had pervs glaring at me with every step down the runway—”
“This is making me feel better, Char,” he said, his mouth setting into a grim line.
“My point is, this ‘small town gird your loins’ nonsense isn’t going to change the way I sleep at night.” I huffed. “Now this might not be the best job in the world, and Lord knows Abram is far from the best boss,” I said, thinking of his cold attitude and barking nature, “but the pay is good, and it gives me something to do besides take up space at your sister’s house.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, spreading his hands. “I get it, and I totally respect your decision. Now get back to that part where you were calling me cute.”
I chuckled out loud, surprising myself. “I didn’t call you cute. I said what you were doing was sort of cute. Sort of.”
“Potatoes, tomatoes, Char. Don’t run from your feelings.” He smiled and rested his chin flat against his hands, which were folded on the table. Suddenly he looked like a puppy—cute, harmless, and ready to show submission.
“Don’t give me that look,” I told him, noticing the way his bright eyes got wider, rounder, and even more adorable.