“Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Callie waved at Miri before ducking into the employee lounge —a small room with a row of lockers on one wall, hooks for hanging things on the other, and one wooden bench. Not as nice as the one at Aussie’s, but then no one ever hung out in there. It was a place to store personal stuff and not much more. Franco couldn’t afford a lavish lounge for his employees. Not yet. Maybe once Brundar helped him make the place more profitable he would.

Opening her locker, Callie collected her purse and her light jacket. The club was always warm, but it was getting cold outside at night. Unable to help herself, she pulled her phone out, hoping like an idiot to see a message from Brundar, or maybe even a missed call, but of course there was nothing.

Third day in a row and no Brundar. Not in person or any other way.

After the talk she’d had with her neighbor, Callie itched to confront Brundar about his deception. But after having a full day to cool off, she’d decided to wait and see if he’d confess. Maybe she would drop hints, leading him to talk about it.

The problem was that he was avoiding her again. Just when she’d thought they were making progress, he’d retreated into his shell, and was hiding from her like a coward.

That evening, he hadn't even shown up at the club.

Callie had been waiting to catch Franco and ask him if Brundar had called him. Maybe he was sick and couldn’t come in, or something had happened to him…

Crap. She shouldn’t give a damn, but she was worried about the jerk.

Except, Franco had been busy in the basement and hadn’t surfaced at the nightclub throughout her shift. Unless he had, and she’d missed him because she’d been taking orders or delivering drinks.

Should she text Brundar?

Ask him if he was okay? A bodyguard’s job was inherently dangerous.

Now that her thoughts had wandered in that direction, her worry kicked into overdrive. She had to text him. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Hi, just checking if you’re alive. With her finger hovering over the send button, she decided to add I’m worried. Just in case he got mad at her for texting him.

A couple of minutes later he answered, and the tightness in her chest eased.

Working.

At least he was alive. But would it have killed him to ask if she was doing okay? Show that he cared even a little?

He was such an infuriating man. When he was near her, she felt that he cared, that he liked her as a person, and that he liked spending time with her. But when he was away, Brundar behaved like she didn’t exist, like nothing had happened between them, and like he didn’t give a damn about her.

How did the saying go? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? In Brundar’s case, it was more like out of sight, out of mind.

She put the phone back in her purse and headed outside.

“Hi, Donnie. Ready to call it a night?”

“I was waiting for you, girl.”

“Thanks. Brad was a no-show, and Franco spent the entire night in the basement. So I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Donnie wrapped his thick arm around her shoulders. “I love walking you home.”

The truth was that he never complained and was always upbeat during their walks. He was such a nice guy. Why the hell did she have to go for the complicated and the troubled?

If Donnie were her boyfriend, he would probably call her and text her throughout the day and be happy if she called and texted back. That was what normal couples did. Wasn’t it?

But Donnie had his eye on someone else. Besides, as hunky as he was, she wasn’t attracted to him.

“Are you going to give Fran your comic this weekend?”

Donnie shook his head. “I’m too big of a chicken.”

Callie chuckled. “An enormous chicken. The size of a bull. But seriously, why not?”

“What if she thinks it’s stupid?”

Callie patted his bicep. “Then she is not worthy of you, and you should set your sights on someone who thinks your comics are fabulous.”

“Would you mind taking a look at it?”

She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Mind? I’ve been asking you to show me your work since the night you told me about it. I’m dying to see it.”

Donnie patted his jacket. “I have one in here.”

“Then you must come up and show me.”

He looked unsure. “I don’t know about that. Do you think Brad is going to be okay with that?”

Callie pulled out the key to the building’s front door and unlocked it. “Brad has no say in who I invite to my apartment.”

She held the door open, but Donnie didn’t come in. “It’s the middle of the night.”

She reached for his jacket, grabbing it to pull him in. Not that she was under any illusions that she could’ve moved that mountain of muscle if he hadn’t let her, but it seemed Donnie needed the pretense of being coerced. “Come on. I’ll make us coffee, and you’ll show me your work.”

“Fine. But if Brad rearranges my face, it’s on you.”

“Donnie, what are you worried about? You don’t even need to fight him, you can sit on him. You outweigh him by about a hundred pounds.” Callie kept walking, Donnie’s sneakers making squeaking sounds behind her.

“I don’t know about that. He is freakishly strong.”

“How so?” Callie opened the door to the staircase and waited for Donnie to catch up.

“Once, when I was sitting in my car in the club’s parking lot, I saw him pick up a Suburban with one hand. He must’ve dropped something, and it rolled under the car. He just held the thing up and reached with his other hand for whatever was under it, then lowered the Suburban back down as if it was a cardboard box filled with toilet paper.”

“Impressive. But I think you could’ve done it too.”

“I could. With two hands and a grunt.”

“Nevertheless, as I told you before, Brad has no say in whom I invite over. I can entertain whomever I want, whenever I want.”

Subconsciously, Callie suspected Brundar hadn’t told her the truth about where he was and what he was doing. Now that Donnie was going on and on about not wanting to anger her so-called boyfriend by coming up to her apartment, her own anger was pushing the subconscious suspicion to the surface.

She could accept that on occasion Brundar’s cousin would need his bodyguards in the evenings, or even on an out of town trip. But while in town, this time of night the big shot was most likely asleep in his bed.

For as long as she’d known Brundar, which admittedly wasn’t all that long, he worked for the cousin during the day and at Franco’s during the evenings and nights, which meant that the cousin didn’t need his services while at home.

Only two scenarios could support Brundar’s claim of working that late at night. One was that the cousin was making a transaction at night, which implied some illegal activity she knew Brundar wouldn’t have taken part in, and the other was that he was partying somewhere and needed his bodyguards with him. Which again, didn’t follow the normal pattern of Brundar’s employment.

Something smelled fishy.

Callie opened the door to her apartment and flicked the lights on.

Donnie took a look around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and grabbed the carafe. “Make yourself comfortable while I make coffee.”

Donnie sat on the couch, opened his jacket, and pulled a rolled up comic out of an inside pocket that must’ve been really deep.

Watching him flip through the pages while she loaded the coffeemaker, Callie observed that his sitting pose was nowhere near relaxed. The poor guy was anxious to see her response to his work.

He shouldn’t be. She was going to gush all over it even if it wasn’t great. Friends didn’t put friends down. Not unless she thought it was a complete disaster and he shouldn’t waste his time on it. But even then she would only suggest that he take a course to improve his skills.

When the coffee was ready, she loaded a tray with two cups, some sugar cubes, creamer, and a few store-bought cookies. As talented as she was with cooking, Callie sucked at baking.

“Okay. I’m ready for the grand reveal.” She lowered the tray to the coffee table.

Donnie handed her the comic, then got busy with the coffee, dropping in several sugar cubes and following with creamer.

As soon as Callie opened the comic, she had to slap her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Not only because it depicted Brundar with uncanny accuracy, but also because she was relieved that Donnie was really good and she wouldn’t have to pretend to be impressed.

“That’s Brad.” She pointed to the comic’s hero. Donnie hadn’t changed anything. The same long pale hair, the same austere expression, just the clothes were different. The comic hero was wearing leather pants and a muscle shirt.

Donnie nodded. “He is so perfect for the role, I couldn’t change a single thing about him.”

“And that’s Miri.” Callie pointed to the hero’s sidekick. “But you said she didn’t fit as his sidekick, and that you needed someone less colorful.”

“I decided she does. What do you think?”

“I think you’re amazing. This is so well done. But I have second thoughts about you showing this to Fran. She might tell Brad. Or Miri.”

Donnie pretended to shiver. “Right. I don’t know who’s scarier.”

“I have an idea.”

He lifted a brow.

“Make a comic strip starring Fran. Nothing elaborate, just a page or two. There is no way she wouldn’t go out with you after seeing how much effort you’ve gone to and how talented you are. Make sure she looks amazing in it. It’s a rare woman who is immune to flattery. I’m sure Fran isn’t.”

Donnie clapped her on the back. “Callie, you’re a genius.”