“Fine,” Adam said. “But keep the speed down. If you get in an accident, our good doctor won’t be able to help you because she’ll be busted up, too. And I’ll be too busy cursing you to call for other medical intervention.”
Gillian bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yeah, yeah. The key, please.”
He opened a slim desk drawer to the right of his main work area, under his view screen of Jacob. Probably the same screen that had afforded him an unobstructed view of her apartment, of her bedroom. As if she were Jacob, a monster to be studied.
How could she have been so stupid?
“Are you okay?” Adam’s gaze was heavy on her face, searching. He couldn’t possibly care.
Talia fought to keep her emotions under control, her bile down. She nodded with a fake smile. Salon! Fun! As if she’d ever let anyone touch her, repeatedly, for any length of time.
Gillian snatched the key out of his hand, drawing Adam’s attention. The ache in Talia’s guts diminished slightly. She wouldn’t feel better until Segue was far behind her.
“Our appointment is in twenty minutes. We better get going.” Gillian skipped to the door like a teenager. Talia followed, with Patty bringing up the rear.
“Wait,” Adam said. “It takes thirty-five to get there.”
“Not anymore,” Gillian sang, waving the key in the air and pushing out his office door.
They bypassed the parking lot off the Segue loading dock and entered an immaculate garage. Four shining cars gleamed, diagonally situated, each a luxury vehicle, though Talia would have been hard-pressed to name any one. A black sedan, slightly old-world in its shape, but modernized in its aerodynamic lines, was parked farthest from the door. Next to it, a hulking SUV with dark windows and shiny chrome. Adjacent, two sports cars vied for attention, one black, shaped low, mean, and angular. The other was bold red, modern muscle tempered with sleek restraint. A silver stallion reared on the grille under a yellow insignia.
“The Ferrari,” Gillian directed. She ran on tiptoes over to the red car and ran a hand along its hood. When she opened the door, she sighed in exaggerated ecstasy. “Thank you, Talia!”
Talia brought her head up in confusion as she slipped behind the passenger seat into a narrow rear bucket.
“We owe this to you.” Gillian’s eyebrows lifted up-up in suggestion, a smirk curling one side of her mouth. Then she gripped the wheel with melodramatic sexual pleasure.
Patty and Gillian strapped themselves in. Talia followed suit, though she was so squished she doubted the seat belt would do anything.
“I don’t get it,” Talia said. Did everyone know that Adam had kissed her? Had everyone been watching? Or had he left some visible mark on her where he’d touched? The bitter truth was, she could still feel the heat of his hands on her back and butt, and other places she’d briefly hoped he’d reach.
Gillian turned the key, revved the engine, and purred suggestively.
The car felt like Adam. Power, beauty, and no fuss. Smelled like him, too, under the honey dusk of the black leather.
“Oh, honey. The way he looks at you. I’ve been here years hoping for that gleam in his eye. He never, ever would have let us take out one of his babies if you weren’t coming along.” Gillian’s eyes twinkled. “I just took advantage of the opportunity.”
“Leave her alone,” Patty said, but she smiled, too.
Yes, please. Leave me alone.
Gillian eased the vehicle out of the garage and onto the Segue turnabout. When she accelerated, the engine sang. Its building momentum forced Talia’s head into the seat.
Talia left Gillian and Patty in the salon, trapped in their chairs by color massaged like mud over their scalp. Gillian had shiny foils tucked into her hair as well.
“Talia. Really,” Gillian begged. “Just order some decent stuff online and have the clothes overnighted.” She looked like she wanted to expand on her reservations for shopping in Middleton, but with a glance at the stylist, politely kept her mouth closed.
Talia wasn’t going to be here tomorrow. That was the point. She had the use of the Segue card for Middleton only. Whatever she was going to get, it had to be here, or Adam would be able to track her.
Talia smiled, thanked them both, but went to check the local shopping for herself.
She found a thrift shop, packed with knickknacks, dishes, dulling jewelry, and along the back wall, a rack of clothes. They were dingy from previous use, puckered and creased from hanging untouched on store hangers for who knows how long. Probably years. She selected clothes that looked like they’d fit, and was thrilled when she found a well-worn but sturdy backpack.
The counter had been tended when she’d entered, but empty when she finished. She piled her stuff on top and got the credit card ready for payment. Waiting, adrenaline pumping, got her mind turning. Small town like this…