Nowhere Safe

CHAPTER 11



“What’s it gonna take, missy? I’ve made you a reasonable offer for that dinky business you’re tryin’ to run.”

Trish fought not to clench her fists. She wouldn’t give Big Charlie Larraby the satisfaction of knowing he could get to her. He’d already made two offers to buy her out.

He wanted her location so he could take the spot next door, knock out a wall and make a huge antiques showroom.

She’d burn ReSolution to the ground before she’d sell to him.

“Which offer was that, Charlie?” Trish replied sweetly. “The pitiful one or the ridiculous one?”

He had the good ol’ southern boy shtick down, considering Charlie had a business degree from Stanford and grew up in California. Of the four locations he owned in Houston, he’d picked up one from Mrs. Betta Bromley, the woman who had been Trish’s mentor during her teens. Mrs. Bromley had owned a premier gallery and auction house in Houston. She’d called Trish gifted and made her feel special for the first time in her life. She’d also taught Trish how to appraise fine antiques and how to spot a fake.

And Mrs. Bromley had detested Big Charlie Larraby, because he’d preyed on anyone he considered weak. She admitted once to Trish that she’d acquired a rare piece Charlie wanted and that was the real reason he badgered Mrs. Bromley constantly to sell her business...for peanuts. When Trish’s mentor had a fatal heart attack, Big Charlie finally succeeded in his quest when clueless grandnieces and grandnephews were only too happy to sell Bromley’s Finest to him for a fraction of its value.

Trish had no proof of wrongdoing, but she blamed Big Charlie for Mrs. Bromley’s heart attack and for shutting down Bromley’s Finest once he’d gutted the inventory.

Now he wanted to steal ReSolution. Or did he just want to harass Trish?

Could Charlie be stalking her?

God, she hoped not. Just the thought of him being in her house, pawing through her lingerie to find her black lace panties was...she managed to not screw up her face into a disgusted grimace, but...ew. Besides, he’d always been an in-your-face opponent.

Why would he change tactics now?

She’d fought tougher battles and won. So far.

Which only reminded her of how much she wanted a drink right now. Smooth bourbon. That had been her poison. She could smell it in the air.

Charlie hefted his considerable bulk another inch higher and yanked on a belt buckle the size of her hand and snorted–a bull threatening to charge, but too lazy to make the effort. “Listen here, missy. I seen your place. You ain’t goin’ to make it past a year. We carry the same quality of furnishings as you, but a bigger inventory. Customers want choice. I have eighteen stores to your one. That buys credibility. I can afford national ad campaigns. That’s what it takes to survive on Las Olas. Sell it or lose it.”

“Chuck, honey,” she said in a voice loaded with faux charm. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m here to stay. However, I do wish you luck with your endeavors.”

She left him scowling behind her and walked away, only to encounter Olivia Dent next.

Blow off the snake, land in front of an alley cat.

Olivia cooed, “My, my, aren’t we the flashy one decked out in silver?” The sultry bleached-blond held a martini in one delicate hand with perfectly manicured blaze-red nails long enough to be claws–a fitting image for a feline in attack mode.

“There is no we to it, Olivia. You’re the queen of flash. I’m just a pale second.” Trish smiled to make it sound real and waged a war not to roll her eyes when Olivia preened under the jaded compliment. The woman’s scarlet Oscar de la Renta gown cost more than a month’s lease payment for ReSolution.

If Kellie hadn’t loaned Trish the sparkling gown she wore, she’d have come dressed in her usual business attire. When she’d first met Kellie at a Miami Businesswomen’s small business luncheon, Trish had been impressed by the spirited woman’s competence. But when the redhead had shown up in jeans with no makeup to pitch in at a women’s shelter where Trish also volunteered, they’d bonded instantly.

“Yes, you are a pale second.” Olivia lifted her head, making it possible to actually look down her nose. The witch probably practiced that in front of mirrors. “I don’t know what Gunter sees in you.”

“Maybe he enjoys being around a woman who treats him as a friend. You might try that.” Take that.

Olivia’s gaze narrowed for an instant. Long enough to confirm a direct hit, but not deep enough to induce wrinkling.

Screw her and the broom she rode in on.

Trish smiled graciously and continued on to the bar, doing her best to walk as though her insides hadn’t dissolved into a mass of jelly.

What had the stalker meant by watch for my next move?

Please don’t ruin this for me.

She was having a difficult enough time trying not to think about how close all that free alcohol was and how much she could use something to settle her nerves.

The bartender poured two glasses of wine for a couple ahead of her. Trish eyed the top-shelf bourbon behind him and fought the urge to slide her tongue across her teeth. She pressed her fidgeting hands into fists against her thighs, closed her eyes and swallowed. One minute at a time, if that was what it took to beat the addiction monster.

She could do this.

“What will the lovely lady have?”

Her eyes snapped open and she unfurled her fingers against her dress. Looking slowly to the left, she came face-to-face with a beaming Josh.

“I can get my own, but thanks.” Trish moved up to the bar and requested her usual club soda with a lime. Once she had her drink and they moved away from the bar line, she wondered if Josh had figured out that she’d been avoiding him. If he was gay, she was misreading everything he said and the way he touched her. And it would explain why he’d backed off earlier.

He could just be very affectionate.

Every female cell in her body screamed NOT!

“Hell of a party,” Josh said, his hand at the small of her back again. “Are you excited?”

“I suppose. This has been going on for five weeks. Mostly I’d just like for it to be over,” she admitted. “I’m ready for the final decision.” Answering him would be easier if she didn’t quiver at the feel of his palm on her skin.

“When will they make the final decision?”

“Next week.” She didn’t want to be rude to him, especially when he was being so nice, but he was too freaking attractive in that tux for her peace of mind.

Standing this close to all that hotness just confused her hormones and made her feel stupid for being attracted to him. Plus, Josh shouldn’t have to be stuck with her all night.

Not when he could find someone he’d really enjoy.

She moved away from his hand and turned to face him with a polite smile. “Thanks for coming here tonight to appease my brother, but you don’t have to hang out with me the whole time.”

Something dark shifted in Josh’s gaze before he pulled his reaction under control and leaned close. “Are you going to do this all night?”

“Do what?”

“Push me aside.”

“I just thought you might like to, uh, meet other people, maybe find somebody you’d enjoy.”

He clamped his lips shut. Muscles in his jaw flexed in and out. He lifted up, drew in a long, slow breath and let it out, then gave her a smile the wolf probably showed Little Red Riding Hood before he had her for dinner. “I came here to be with you tonight.”

She had a hot flash when he said it that way, as if he wanted to be alone with her, and in that moment she wanted to find a place to be alone with him. Had to be nerves sending her hormones way beyond haywire around this guy. If she thought about it, Brendan would toy with her the same way if he didn’t know her and didn’t care. He was a flirt extraordinaire and he enjoyed women.

Maybe Josh was no different. If she’d just loosen up and play along with Josh, she might have as good a time as she normally had with Brendan. “My apologies. I’m not trying to push you away. I was only letting you know I didn’t expect you to be at my side every second.”

“No apology necessary. You’re keeping me on my toes. I must need the practice.” He broke out one of those high-wattage smiles and her body hummed in response.

She’d once been a sucker for sweet talking guys with bedroom smiles who’d seduced her into making stupid choices.

But she couldn’t blame Josh for what he was, or for going along with her brother’s setup.

Nope. This crazy attraction was all hers and damned uncomfortable. Zane had probably assumed that because Josh was gay, he would be boring. She was not bored.

Trish’s body was screaming out loud that Josh was not only lined up on her side of the straight-gay fifty-yard line, he was immediate touchdown material.

There wasn’t a thing boring about that mouth of his when all she could think about was what he could do with it besides talking.

Like kissing.

Bad brain. Bad! Rebel hormones had cut off all oxygen supply in an attempt to overthrow her good sense.

Josh took her by the elbow to lead her around the room. “Tell me why you’re doing this.”

She floundered mentally until she realized he meant the competition, but his easy tone and slow pace relaxed her. “To fast track my reputation in the antiques appraisal community. It takes a long time to build a following and respect for your ability. I’m a little late out of the gate, but I do know what I’m doing.” She took a step toward a table filled with hors d’oeuvres.

“Not doing this to be television star?”

She snickered and turned to him. “No way. This is a behind-the-scenes opportunity, which suits me fine. I want to be the skill in the background, not a celebrity.”

He gave her a thoughtful look, as though seeing her in a new light. “Their loss. You’re obviously talented if you’ve made it to this point in the competition, and far too striking to leave in the shadows.”

A compliment without calling her cute. Her brain had to be turning to mush, because she could swear he was flirting with her. Her body thought so. All engines were on go.

Where was Brendan when she needed someone to ask about Josh?

She’d never had a thing for gay guys in the past. Her gaydar had been dead accurate. Faced with one of Brendan’s stunning friends, her hormones had flatlined.

So why this tingling in her belly just from standing close to Josh? She hadn’t felt this way since she was a teenager.

A man who ran a close second to him in the sexy department strolled toward them with a look of recognition that said he knew Josh. The tawny-haired guy might be thirty. He beamed a dazzling smile at her as he spoke to Josh. “Hey, buddy. Introduce me to this delicious creature.”

She welcomed the interruption, but Josh didn’t appear happy to see his buddy. Josh muttered something like, “Again?” then introduced the new guy. “Trish Jackson meet Ryder Brown.”

Ryder’s smile bumped up in intensity. “Definitely my pleasure, Miss Jackson. It is miss, right?” He offered his hand.

“Yes. Nice to meet you.” She shook with Handsome Number Two who was clearly flirting and holding her hand longer than necessary, but she didn’t feel any more drawn to him than when Brendan teased her.

“Let. Go. Ryder.”

Ignoring Josh, Ryder said, “You have soft hands. Seems like there’s a saying, soft hands, soft heart.”

She laughed at the blatant flirt and withdrew her hand before Josh’s gaze turned any darker. “Nice to meet you.”

She considered the way Josh was snapping at Ryder and Ryder was laughing, practically busting Josh’s chops.

Could this be Josh’s life partner? Maybe they were having a domestic squabble and that could be why Josh hadn’t wanted to mingle.

Maybe her attraction to Josh wasn’t her fault.

Maybe Josh was putting out mixed pheromone signals.

A chemical imbalance. Not a clinical theory, but she was going with it. She asked Josh, “Are you two ... partners?”

Ryder said, “Actually–”

Josh snapped, “Not tonight.”

What did that mean? She waited for Ryder to explain but instead he asked, “What happens this evening, Trish?”

Why was Ryder here if he didn’t know what was going on? How had he gotten a ticket?

She didn’t care and answered, “This is fanfare for the new Treasured Past television show. They’ve narrowed down the field to two females and two males from all those who’ve applied for a chance to be a consultant on the show. They’ll call us each up on stage tonight and give us our individual tasks. Sort of like a final test to determine which two they consider the best.”

Ryder started to ask another question, but Josh cut in. “How do they choose the final two?”

“We’re given an item from our area of expertise. We’ve been providing written appraisals of items for weeks now that will be compared, because first and foremost, a consultant has to be capable of assessing real value. Then it’s up to us to find an individual who is a private collector and convince that person to come on the show as a guest host.”

“How much time are you given to find this guest host?”

“Twenty-four hours to book a guest who has to come here next Monday for filming.”

Ryder sounded enthusiastic when he said, “That sounds tough, but you must be damned good to have made it this far.”

“We’ll see.” Trish pretended not to notice the glare Josh shoved at Ryder since Ryder ignored it. She explained, “The key is showing the producers who has resources and can bring in celebrity collectors. Finding an expert knowledgeable on unusual or rare antiques and artifacts is one thing, but a celebrity who can draw viewers is a challenge.”

Crossing his arms and looking like he belonged in jeans and outdoors instead of a stiff party, Ryder asked, “Does the celebrity win money?”

“Yes and no. The guests do engage in competition against pros, but in these first four pilot programs the money won will be awarded to the celebrity’s chosen charity.”

“Do you know celebrities?” Josh asked, curious, not challenging.

“I know collectors and some are celebrities, but I don’t know anyone well enough to pick up a phone so I’m a little apprehensive about that part,” Trish stated. “I mentored under a woman who taught me knowledge was more powerful than money. She was a brilliant businesswoman and knew everyone of consequence in this business.”

Ryder was listening, but also tugging at his sleeves every so often. He didn’t wear a tux as comfortably as Josh did. Not that he was a slouch. Anything but. Ryder should be modeling clothes, but something rugged. Not evening wear.

Nothing distracted Josh. He wore a tux with the ease of a second skin while still giving the impression that he would look extraordinary in anything. Jeans. Tattered shirt. Boxers.

Ryder quipped, “Sounds like a reality show.”

Trish had thought so, too, in the beginning and wouldn’t have signed up to do this if she hadn’t been given a nudge. “Sort of, but without all the drama.”

She sure hoped that was the case.

On that point, her life had to stay drama free for any chance of being chosen for the show. She’d signed papers that clearly stated in heavy legalese that the show would boot anyone with negative press.

Josh was speaking in a low, terse voice to Ryder. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

Ryder shook his head and continued smiling at Trish, clearly set on aggravating Josh. “Do you get anything besides a consulting contract if you win? A car? Vacation?”

“I have an antiques shop on Las Olas. My name and business would be listed in the credits for each show, but the consultants receive a signing bonus, plus a major advertising package comes with winning a position. I’d have a thirty-second commercial spot played during each program, and one in the Good Morning Florida show for three months, plus a drive-time ad spot on three radio networks.” She’d be able to get her business off the ground and pay back what Zane and Angel had loaned her. “I’m working on my appraisal certification. All of this would help move me forward.”

“Do you work with anyone international?” Ryder asked.

That struck her as an odd question. “No. I’ll be happy to build a local and national clientele.”

“But your expertise is in fifteenth century European history and antiques, right?”

She couldn’t hide her surprise. “How’d you know that?”

“Heard someone mention it. You’re a hot topic in this place.” Ryder boosted his rating with another smile and added, “I’m not familiar with that era. Maybe I could–”

“Give it a rest, Ryder,” Josh finished for him. He leveled a threatening gaze at Ryder. “We won’t keep you from catching up with someone else.”

Trish could practically feel the friction between these two and, for some reason, believed she was part of the problem. Eager to get away, she looked around and caught sight of Heidi in the area of their table. That gave her the perfect opportunity to scoot away without leaving Josh alone. He and Ryder could work out their issues on their own.

Trish said, “Excuse me, gentlemen. I see my business manager.”

She got six steps away before a warm hand touched her arm. Josh had caught up with her. His deep voice whispered close to her ear. “Not trying to get rid of me, again, are you?”

Warm breath danced across her face, feathering her skin. “Of course, not. But I thought maybe you two had something to, uh, talk about.”

“No, we don’t.”

That sounded pretty final. She kept moving toward the VIP tables. “What does Ryder do?”

“He’s with the DEA. Assigned to the Miami task force.”

Ah. Guess that’s how Leanne put two and two together about Josh’s being gay. Trish would never have figured it out, because Ryder didn’t strike her as gay either. She’d been off the market so long she was rusty at reading male signals. Obviously they must be a couple.

With that last bit of doubt removed about Josh, Trish accepted that the best she could hope for with Josh was friendship, which should be all she wanted.

And would be if he kept his hands off her. Not that he wasn’t being a gentleman, but his fingers grazing along her back sent heat spiraling into places it shouldn’t.

When she reached the VIP table that had eight elegant place settings with name cards, four of which were her group, she smiled. She’d come pretty far to be here today.

Josh pulled out the chair in front of her name card. “What’s that smile about?”

She laughed. “Back home, we’d say this was walking through tall cotton.”

He studied her with a strange intensity then leaned close and murmured, “You should laugh more often. You’re stunning.”

How was it that Josh could make her feel like the only woman on earth? Why couldn’t she have met someone like him a long time ago?

You did. Brendan. Gay, remember? Shoot. It was easy to forget when Josh looked at her that way. Brendan had teased and flirted, but she’d never had this intense urge for something more with Brendan the way she was feeling around Josh.

When Josh slid into the chair on her left, she stole another quick sniff of his masculine scent. Would he smell that good all over?

If he does, you won’t be the one finding out.

She wasn’t sure she could be friends with him after all. But was this all in her mind or was he encouraging it by the things he said and the way he kept touching her?

Was her reaction accidental or was he intentionally trying to confuse her? She turned to him. “Are you flirting with me, for real flirting?”

“Yes.”

What?

He added, “Is it working?”

Answering that truthfully would make her a candidate for a Fool-Of-The-Day award. He had to be yanking her chain. “No, it’s not.”

Sharp blue eyes full of turbulence stared at her while something menacing swirled behind his gaze then calmed. “Liar.”

He’d said that one word with the force of a challenge.

Her lips parted in shock. Was he serious?

Or...could he be the stalker?

Her stomach quivered with the possibility, but she couldn’t come up with one logical reason for why he’d want to stalk her. They’d never met before today, and he worked with her brother.

Josh gave her another smile, but this one smacked of bad boy. Zane had told her in their text conversation that Josh was FBI, and was temporarily assigned to the DEA task force. Maybe Hot Guy FBI Agent just had a warped sense of humor and enjoyed watching women fall all over his hotness.

“Hey,” Heidi called out as she came up from the opposite side of the table.

Relieved to have backup, Trish glanced up at Heidi then smiled. Her friend had agreed to wear something sedate for the evening. Heidi’s version of sedate was a gold sweater, gold stiletto heels and black spandex pants swooping low enough to expose her glittering navel ring. Another Kellie outfit.

“Where’s Gunter? I thought he’d be here by now.”

“Had some last-minute something come up.” Heidi shrugged, walking around the table to Trish’s side. “Said he’d meet us at the table.”

Josh stood when Heidi reached the chair next to Trish. He offered his hand. “We weren’t introduced today. I’m Josh Robertson.”

Now I feel rude on top of confused for not making introductions. Sitting between where Heidi and Josh stood, Trish leaned her head back. “This is Heidi Hildegard. Heidi, you remember Mr. Robertson from today, right?”

“Sure. I remember Josh.” Heidi let go of his hand and glanced down at Trish with an evil look in her eyes.

Trish knew that glint and sent Heidi a glaring eye message of don’t encourage him.

Heidi made a laughing sound that Trish interpreted as loosen up and have fun, then she headed for her seat two places to the right of Trish.

Gunter made a frazzled entrance, dashing up to the table. “Sorry to be late. Good Lord, Patricia, you are a vision.”

He was the only man who could grumble a compliment. Standing behind his seat, Gunter turned to Heidi. “You look lovely too, Miss Heidi.”

Heidi lifted one eyebrow, curled a half-smile and raised her index finger–a Heidi hello.

Wheeling back to Trish, Gunter finally noticed Josh and gave him a hard appraisal.

Might as well get this introduction over, too. “Gunter, Zane couldn’t make it. This is Josh Robertson who works with Zane.” She told Josh, “And this is Gunter Weiss of Dynasty Treasures, a wonderful shop in our area that offers...classic antiques.” That sounded better than saying Gunter had been around since before electricity. He wasn’t keeping up with the times, but he was her friend and deserved respect.

Josh stood, accentuating the vast differences between the two men, from Gunter’s being six inches shorter to Josh’s being over-the-legal-limit handsome.

They shook hands, but Gunter’s cool, “Nice to meet you,” left little doubt of just how much he didn’t care for Josh.

The rest of the table guests began taking their seats for dinner, including Xavier Gomez, a slender brunette who was also competing to be a consultant. Xavier caught Trish’s eye and they shared a discrete wink and a wave. Even though they were competing against one another, they’d hit it off early on. Trish politely acknowledged Xavier’s three guests.

With introductions made all around, Xavier’s group settled into a conversation on their side of the table, but Trish noticed that her friend’s stunning, black-outlined green gaze strayed to Josh repeatedly.

When Josh looked away for a moment, distracted by the server filling water glasses, Xavier mouthed a silent “OH. MY. GOD!” across the table to Trish.

Trish gave her a conspiratorial grin, and shook her head a little, but Josh turned back around before she could clue her friend in that nothing was actually going on.

Xavier caught a pause in conversation on her side, and smiled over at Trish. “Where’s your brother? I’m surprised he would miss this. I’ve seen him at every one of these functions so far. So sweet.”

Trish smiled to cover the tiny, unintentional hit to her confidence. Sweet. Her friend would hate knowing she’d caused it. Just every now and then, Trish resented being the “sweet” one. “His wife is close to delivering their first baby and needed him tonight.”

Call it female vanity, but Trish had been compared to Xavier more than the other two competitors, who were male, and she always ended up being the “cute” one, in contrast to Xavier’s voluptuous beauty that was usually described as “sexy” or “hot”.

Josh had been flirting all night, throwing her off her game. Trish decided to turn the tables on him. She placed her hand on Josh’s arm and told Xavier, “When Zane had to bow out, Josh...volunteered.”

Trish prayed he wouldn’t pull away out of sheer surprise after she’d worked so hard to keep him from being here with her.

Obviously curious, Xavier shifted the power of her exotic green eyes to Josh. “Are you a collector or a dealer?”

“Neither. I’m new to the antiques world.”

“Trish is great,” she said. “Don’t tell Charlie, but I think she’s going to win.”

Trish grinned and shook her head. “You’re nuts.” They’d been playing the “you’re going to win...no you’re going to win” game since the second round. Xavier’s specialty was seventeenth century, and she’d spent a year mentoring with Big Charlie, which put her chances pretty high in this competition. In fact, Xavier had quietly tipped Trish off to the reason Big Charlie was after ReSolution–for expansion on Las Olas.

If Trish wasn’t chosen for the female slot, and if nothing came of this TV show except a bit of exposure, Trish would always be glad for the effort she’d made because it had gained her Xavier as a friend.

Josh beamed a smile at Trish, then grinned at Xavier, and Trish saw her friend’s eyes widen.

Trish needed to find a private moment to tell Xavier that Trish had only been playing and not to read too much into Josh’s behavior one way or the other, that Josh wouldn’t be interested in sex with Trish or her. But when Trish considered it she had to admit that Xavier was at least Josh’s equal in the beauty department.

Not wanting to take the joke too far, Trish removed her hand from his arm and sat up straighter in her chair. She was just glad the competition was based on brains, not beauty. That meant she at least had a chance.

Josh hooked his arm over the back of Trish’s chair in the same proprietary way she’d taken when she’d touched him.

She held her breath. What was he was going to say to Xavier?

“I’m definitely interested in acquiring something of value, and Trish has agreed to tutor me privately. That’s an offer no man could pass up.”

The man was outrageous and pulled it off.

Warm tendrils squirmed in her heart at his last line.

Bless him. Too bad he worked with her brother and was not in the market for a woman. He sure could put on a great show.

She’d bet there wasn’t a woman at the table who didn’t believe he expected one-on-one time with Trish. She got hot just thinking about the possibility. Her body felt too tight in her skin.

That could be because Josh’s fingers were slowly massaging her shoulder.

Xavier cocked her eyebrow, gave Trish another “holy shit” wink then returned to talking with her guests.

Trish glanced at the stage, where the emcee stood with the producer and pointed to the upper back corner of the room, where a technician aimed and focused a follow spot. Trish just wanted this night to end. She was holding herself together, but walking up in front of so many people, being stared at, judged, talked about, gave her the jitters. So many strangers and...

A feeling of being watched hit her.

Trish froze. She glanced around left then right and across the room. Everyone appeared busy with conversation and food at their respective tables. She tried to shake off the creepy feeling, to convince herself it was nothing more than an over-imaginative mind fed by lack of sleep and a stalker’s intrusion into her life.

But Zane’s advice about always listening to her instincts shot to the forefront of her mind. He’d told her to trust the feeling and take measures to protect herself.

But she was sitting in the middle of a room with over five hundred people and would soon get called on stage. Anyone could be watching her.

Was her stalker here? Was he in the middle of all these people?

Was it even a man?

She hadn’t thought about it, just assumed it was a man. But the stalker could be a woman. Maybe someone she trusted? Like Xavier?

Trish wiped the idea from her mind. Why would Xavier stalk Trish when she already had a better chance at winning because of Charlie’s support? Xavier was her friend.

If Trish let paranoia get any more of a foothold, she’d be suspicious of everyone she knew, from friends to family.

Trish took a deep breath and ignored the sensation of something crawling up her neck. Get through tonight and focus on making a good impression.

Maybe the stalking was just someone’s elaborate sick joke. She prayed the stalker was not here to destroy this one chance to launch her business in an economy not favorable to luxury items.

But antiques were all she knew, all she’d ever wanted to do. If ReSolution didn’t make it...

She couldn’t think about that. Heidi said negative thoughts lead to negative actions. No negative thoughts.

Josh shook her out of the dark place she’d gone when he asked Gunter, “How long have you been in Ft. Lauderdale?”

A server removed dishes as Gunter went into an oration about how he’d come to Miami first then moved to Ft. Lauderdale after getting married. By the time he finished naming notable people who had shopped in his store he’d covered both decades.

Trish caught him taking a breath and grabbed at any change in subject. She’d never heard him mention a wife before. “Are you divorced?”

“The woman was a blood sucker,” Gunter stated flatly, as he picked at his dessert. “I make a habit of getting rid of anything that reminds me of her. You married, Robertson?”

“No. Don’t think that’s in the stars for me.”

“A case of too many women and too little time?” Heidi piped up, clearly testing him.

Trish shot her a warning glance that Heidi ignored.

“More like not husband material with the type of work I do.”

“What exactly do you do?” Gunter asked.

“At the moment, I’m working in computer forensics for law enforcement in Miami.” Josh shrugged. “But I tend to get shuffled around. Have no idea where I’ll be sent next. That’s the beauty of no ties. They can use me wherever needed.”

Heidi asked, “How long will you be here?”

“Not sure, but probably one or two more weeks.”

Trish only had to lift her eyes to look into Josh’s with him leaning so close to her. “Where’s your home?”

“Atlanta, but I’m rarely there.”

He’d leave Miami soon. She should feel relief, right? They wouldn’t see each other after tonight anyhow so no more fantasy attraction.

But she’d spent more time with him today and this evening than she had with any man in too long to think about, and now she had the strange feeling she’d miss him.

Heidi might be on to something about dating again if spending time with one man affected her this way.

Gunter stood. “I’ll be back in time to see you go up.” He tossed down his napkin and disappeared through the doors that lead to the restrooms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the television spokesman said, drawing everyone’s attention to the stage. He launched into thanks for all who had attended, and for the money being raised for the scholarship program. Then he started thanking the investors.

He would call the contestants next.

Trish took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Her cell phone vibrated in her purse. She’d left it on vibrate in case Zane called. Angel was close enough to her due date that she could go into labor at any time. Opening the clasp, she hit the button to stop it from making more noise and peeked at the text:

Now would be a good time to visit ReSolution if you don’t want to lose it.

Your move.

Trish’s hand shook. What was the stalker going to do?