All Things Pretty Page 25

I can recall with disturbing clarity the way she looked last night, the way she felt in my arms, under my hands, against my body. Her smell, her taste…Damn! I want more. A lot more. I think she does, too, but there’s a whole lotta shit holding her back. By rights, there should be a lot holding me back, too, but I figure it can only help strengthen her trust in me and go toward accomplishing the overall goal of taking Tonin down, which should make her life a whole lot better.

The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Tonin’s got something on her. Or maybe he’s giving her something that she desperately needs. I can’t imagine what, but he has some kind of hold on her. I mean to break it, though. If she’ll just trust me.

When I pull into the spot right beside her car in the garage, I reach out to take her hand before she can hurry out of the truck. “Spend the day with me today. Not because I’ll be following you, but because you want to.”

Her eyes are full of all kinds of things–fear, sadness, regret. “I-I can’t.”

“You can. If you want to.”

“I have a spa appointment.”

She didn’t say she didn’t want to, just that she has other plans. “Skip it.”

“If Lance found out…”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know him. You don’t know the kind of reach he has. You’re playing with fire.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do.”

We’re quiet for a few seconds as I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb. “I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.”

She looks down at our hands. “I wish I didn’t care,” she confesses so softly I almost don’t hear her. She pulls her hand from my grasp. “We’d better get upstairs. My appointment is at ten.”

After last night, there’s no question that I go up with her. All the way up. And when we ride the elevator back down almost two hours later, there’s no question that she’ll come with me, in my truck.

Not a single word is said until Tommi is climbing out of my vehicle and onto the street in front of the spa. She gives me her polite smile, the “Lance” one, as I’ve come to think of it. Fake as hell.

“Pick me up at two?”

“I’ll be here,” I say with a nod.

Four hours at a spa? What kind of shit is she having done?

I already know the answer most likely. She’s carrying one of the oversized bags she brings when she’s got her little computer. That means the spa has a back door and that there’s a Wi-Fi spot nearby. I’d bet money on it.

I check the area for places that might offer Wi-Fi and dark privacy. I spot at least two on the same side of the street. I devote the next few minutes to thinking like a woman who feels trapped by a dangerous criminal, a woman who is doing something that she doesn’t want to get caught doing. How would she go about this?

If I were her, I’d schedule a legit appointment and get some spa-ing done. Then, maybe afterward I’d sneak out the back and into one of the other places to do my covert shit. That would be the wisest thing, I think. That way if Lance called the spa, they’d say that she had a ten o’clock appointment and that she was not to be disturbed or whatever. An extra hour at the end could be chalked up to anything, I would imagine. She fell asleep in the sauna, she got caught up talking to some of the girls or another client. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even ask. Women dawdle. He has to know that. And she can lie very convincingly, especially to a guy with an ego like Tonin’s.

I’m betting on that sort of a plan. Just to see if I’m right, if I’m getting to know her well enough to think like she does, I wait until twelve thirty and I cross the street and head around the block, to the alley between the first row of buildings and the next. I lean against the brick corner, shielded by a big dumpster, and I wait.

At ten minutes before one, I’m gratified when I see Tommi’s bright head slip out into the alley and move casually, like she has every reason in the world to be back here, down several doors and disappear inside.

I imagine she told the people in the spa that she had to run a couple of errands. Maybe she even left something there so she has a reason to come back through and then out the front door where I’ll be waiting. Damn, she’s sneaky.

I walk back to the street side and down to the café she snuck into. It wouldn’t be out of the question for me to have come back early and drop in for a coffee as I wait, so I don’t bother trying to hide my appearance.

I glance casually around as I make my way to the counter to order. As I pretend to study the menu, I take in everything I can through my peripheral vision. There’s a hallway that leads to the bathrooms and, I’m guessing, to the back exit. There are a few small tables dotted along the wall, tables that disappear down that way. My guess is that she’s sitting at one of those.

When my coffee is up, I hit the condiment station before I head back to the truck. Without actually looking, I throw a napkin in the trash so I can get a peek at the hall. The platinum head hunkering in the shadows is unmistakable, as is the glow of a monitor on her face.

What the hell is she up to? I think for at least the fifth time.

For the next hour, I get to ponder this as I wait for her to make her way back to the spa and out the front door, which she does. I see her wave to someone inside, a big smile on her face. She’s good. She’s very good.

She’s all smiles and glowing skin when she passes by me to step up into the truck. “Thank you,” she says as I close the door and round the front to the driver’s side.

“Enjoy your appointment?”

“Immensely!”

I just bet you did.

“Where to?” I hope she says anywhere other than back to Tonin’s.

“To the school. It’s almost time to get Travis.”

Her lips hold a little curve all the way to the school. She seems downright happy, which makes me even more anxious to find out what she’s doing on that computer. Even Travis notices.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asks in his moody way.

“Nothing. Why?”

He eyes her skeptically, like he doesn’t recognize her. “You’re never like this when you’ve spent the day with that asshole. Actually, you’re never like this at all anymore.”