What the whirlwind known as my best friend Karen lacked in height she made up for in presence and destructive ability. She hit my closet like a heat-seeking missile, zeroing in on anything red. Any other day I’d be pleased with my friend’s help getting ready for a date. Not today.
“You look good in red,” she said for the third time, tossing me a red peasant blouse I didn’t remember buying and then disappearing behind the bi-fold doors.
“I look better in fuzzy pajamas.” I peeled the garment off my head, frowning at my closet. “I don’t want to go.”
“You have to.” Stated without the slight whine anyone else would have adopted, Karen established her determination. “You said you’d go two weeks ago. And I didn’t look for an alternate fourth because I can always count on you.”
Until now.
Latching onto the whine she should have used, I tugged my blanket to my chin. “I’ve had a traumatic week.”
For once I wasn’t being melodramatic. After my fateful call Saturday night, the hours in the drunk tank, and Detective Davis’ interrogation, I hadn’t wanted to see people. Too bad I’d had to work.
My anxiety over being arrested for lying to the cops lasted exactly eighteen hours. Detective Davis had called me into the precinct after work three more times. I’d been a mess during every single visit because I assumed they’d fixed their faulty tech problem. Once they reviewed the footage, they’d see the bear in the car. Each visit revolved around me looking at photo lineups—three for the gunman and two for Nick. I hadn’t recognized anyone except one of Karen’s ex-boyfriends.
The most disturbing part had been overhearing that blood had been found a quarter mile from Greg’s house, but there’d been no sign of a body. If the police had matched the blood to anyone, they hadn’t shared the news with me. So either a cop killer existed who knew an eyewitness had survived, or a man who turned into a bear and ate cop killers was wandering around.
A plain clothes officer sat in a car outside my apartment as protection until they found one of them, which meant I probably wouldn’t be balancing Karen’s numbers even if I went on her date.
“This is important to me.” Her calm delivery contrasted with the red summer dress careening toward my bed. The georgette fluttered to the edge. “Dean and I are still in that awkward, we’re-friends-but-want-to-be-more phase. We need double dates. Besides, Dean’s friend Nathan hasn’t had a lot of luck with women and he’s super interested to meet you.”
I huffed into the underside of my blanket. “I go on these double date things not to find guys, but to make your date less awkward. And Jesus,” I turned down the blanket, “when are you going to get past the awkward stage? It’s been three months.”
“We don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
A gray, pin-stripe pencil skirt flew out of the closet, hanger and all. I ducked in time to avoid plastic to the eye. The skirt landed behind me, hanging off the edge of the bed.
“I’ve really, truly had a rough week, Kare,” I said. “I’ll call Gina. She owes me a favor.”
Karen stomped out of the closet. Her brown eyes blazed in the setting sun streaming through my sliding glass door. She jabbed a finger and kicked out one narrow hip. “You are going. Not Gina. You.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply in what I knew meant she’d begun counting backwards. The way she balanced on one foot spoke to how many hours per week were spent in tree pose.
She exhaled, and her eyelids popped open as she spread her hands, palms up. “I know you’ve had the worst week ever,” she said, serene as ever. “I hate that you had to go through that—are still going through it. But I have two really good reasons you need to come with me.” She popped up a finger. “The first is that you’re safer in public than you are here where a perp could come in your sliding glass door.” Karen gestured her finger to the giant glass across from her covered only by white vertical blinds. “And Johnny rent-a-cop outside wouldn’t even know it.” Another finger joined the first. “The second is that Nathan is gorgeous. Gor-geous. If I weren’t working on things with Dean, I’d totally go after him.”
Karen snapped her fingers. “So get up and showered. I’m turning on your flat iron. You have fifteen minutes, and I want those legs shaved smooth.”
I’d lost the debate. All that was left was to capitulate to her every demand. I forced myself to my feet, and grabbed a fresh razor.
Good news: Nathan was gorgeous. Bad news: his name wasn’t Nathan.
“I knew it started with N.” Karen giggled in the girlish way that made me want to smack the back of her head until her usual pitch returned. “Nick,” she said, holding out her hand to the asshole across the table, “it’s so good to see you again.”
I gaped at the familiar face that stared impassively back while he ignored Karen’s hand. The Jurassic-jerk from Greg’s party—the guy that might have turned into a giant bear and destroyed a cop car with me in it before he raced off to eat a gunman—stood waiting for me to take my seat next to Karen. But I couldn’t sit. In fact, if I’d seen anything but the back of his head and his black silk shirt as we’d walked through the dining room, I’d have charged to the plain clothes cop shadowing me.
I darted glances to the Thai restaurant’s entrance, trying to see where the officer had gone. Several groups crowded in the waiting area, perhaps hiding the lone guy in jeans. He had to be here somewhere. If only I could get to him without the asshole noticing.
Jurassic-jerk stretched out a hand to me—the hand connected to the shoulder that had been shot. “Shelby.” His unassuming drawl and pear scent kicked memories of his insults to the forefront. But instead of smirking like he had countless times last Saturday, he gave me a hesitant smile that almost made him look human. “I’m Nick.”
Yeah, we’ve met…right before you grew fur and fangs and ate someone.
I fell into my seat rather than take his hand or say what I’d wanted to say. Snatching up the glass of ice water in front of my place setting, I took three long gulps, cradling the crystal in my hands.
This isn’t happening . This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
But the horrified look Karen gave me as she sank into her own chair and smoothed her pink chiffon dress beneath her seemed to say it was happening, and that she thought I had the worst manners known to man. I supposed she deserved at least some explanation for that.
“We’ve met,” I said, croaking the words past my teeth.
Karen’s eyebrows lifted. She turned to the men across the table, watching as they took their seats. Nick’s skin went paler than it had been. He opened his mouth to answer.
I cut him off. “Nick was at Greg’s party.”
“Oh no.” Karen shook her head, sympathy making her eyes shimmer.
Dean tilted his head in Nick’s direction. “You were?”
“And he wasn’t terribly polite to me,” I said.
“It was a horrible tragedy.” She petted my knuckles atop the table. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to be impolite.”
“Before the tragedy,” I said.
But after…Nick might have protected me when he’d shoved me to the floorboards. Maybe I could cut him a little slack. Especially considering he’d been shot.
Wait ! He’d turned into something. And now had clearly turned back to normal, gorgeous Asian guy with no sign of a bullet wound. If anyone needed slack cut, it was me.
Karen focused on Nick, gaze going squinty. “Were you impolite?”
Nick pushed a finger between his black collar and throat, tugging at the tight fit. “I was drunk.”
Karen’s voice went low. “So that’s a yes.”
He flushed pink and squirmed in his seat. “I’m an asshole when I’ve had a few beers.”
Dean chuckled. “I can back him up on that.”
Looking at me, Nick said, “I’m sorry, Shelby. For everything I said and everything I did.”
The image of his red face growing fur made me wonder if his apology covered more than his insults. Was he sorry he ate the bad guy?
Karen faced me. “Should I ask what he did?”
“No.” Nick and I answered in unison so loudly that the patrons at the tables around ours turned toward us.
He and I shared a look I thought might be commiseration.
A waitress with graying hair and tired eyes appeared, leaning between us to drop menus atop the inlaid table. She asked for our drink order in broken English. Dean and Karen ordered beers. I flicked my gaze to the left half of the table, only just realizing Karen’s date Dean was with us. Had he been here the whole time?
Unlike Nick, Dean’s face was wider and gregarious with close-set eyes and a thicker nose. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he looked as if he regularly laughed at life. Karen needed someone like that. She certainly didn’t need a gorgeous asshole who turned into a bear to complicate her busy schedule.
The waitress faced Nick. “Beer for you?”
He glanced at me, and then shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Water for me.” I pointed at the glass I already had. No way would I get even the tiniest bit woozy around someone as dangerous as Nick.
We four sat in silence while we looked over the menus and awaited drinks. I couldn’t make sense of anything typed on the six pages despite the majority of it being in English. Knowing Nick sat across from me, knees no doubt a foot from touching mine, left me uninterested in eating.
Had he saved me so he could return a week later and finish me off?
The waitress brought our drinks and asked for our food orders. The others rattled off items I hadn’t seen. When my turn came, I pointed to a random dish. The waitress reached for my menu. I grabbed my water, sucking on the straw as I bent over the glass.
Karen sent me a look of raised brows, giving up on her mental threats when I slurped louder. She smiled at Dean and asked about his day. I felt Nick’s gaze on me. Flustered, I didn’t look up. He might technically be my date for the night, but if he was staring, it was because he wanted to make sure I didn’t tell anyone what I’d seen.
Dean and Karen chatted for several minutes while Nick and I commented where required. I stress-drank two and a half glasses of ice water by the time the entrees came. I excused myself to the restroom while the others dug in, taking my time while my pulse slowed. Nick wasn’t at the table when I returned. I flopped into my chair, letting myself breathe deeply for the first time since we’d walked in.
Dean leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Nick has been looking forward to meeting you all week. Could you give him a break? For me?”
“For us?” Karen chimed in.
I glared at her. “He was a colossal ass.”
“He said he’d had too much to drink,” Dean said. “He’s not kidding about being an asshole after too many beers.”
“I’m especially an asshole when I’m attracted to someone.” The lovely drawl from behind my shoulder and the jump in my pulse had me stiffening despite what he’d said.
I pinched my lips together, waiting for Nick to take his seat again. He came into view, long legs coated in pin-stripe slacks that matched my pencil skirt. Nick dropped onto the cushion with a dull thud. Taking one look at my expression, he dragged a hand through his too-long hair. The silky strands fell into beautiful disarray.
Ignoring everything except the memories of Saturday night, I made myself speak in a steady voice. “So you called me Tinker Bell’s whore sister because you were attracted to me?”
A small gasp to my left meant I had Karen back on my side.
Nick set his palms on either side of his plate and held my glare. “Yes.”
“C’mon, dude,” Dean said, “that wasn’t cool.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “What I said,” he turned his head toward Dean, “was that she looked like a prostitute’s fairy godmother. And I already apologized.” He darted a look at Karen’s second noise of irritation. “But I’ll do it again.” He focused on me again, dark eyes flashing. “Shelby, I’m sorry I was a colossal asshole.”
Maybe I’d held onto my grudge long enough. Especially considering the object of said grudge ate people. I gave him a small nod, and then picked up my fork so I could dig into…whatever white sauce entree I’d ordered. The others did the same.
Utensils scraped against ceramic and conversation didn’t start again until after the waitress brought drink refills. My half of the table remained quiet. Karen and Dean ordered two more beers. I guzzled the last of my water and decided the dish—which had chicken and shrimp—was actually good.
“Let’s go for drinks,” Karen said as we tossed money into a communal pile to pay the check.
I kept my head down to avoid staring at her as though her hair had turned into snakes. Mass quantities of insensitivity venom could be the only reason she’d miss my discomfort.
“Sure.”
The answer hadn’t come from Dean.
My neck muscles clenched. I tightened my grip on my wallet and considered shoving it up Nick’s nostril. Maybe I shouldn’t have let go of my grudge. Because now I had no choice except to go along since we’d only brought Karen’s car.
“Shelby?” She’d used her super-saccharine voice and fluttered her mascara-laden lashes.
Well, since she’d asked. “I’d rather go home,” I said.
She patted my knuckles. “Just one drink. We won’t be long.”
I tossed up my fingers in a sign of defeat. Like an idiot, I let my friend drag me into another dangerous situation.