Chapter 9
“How long have you worked at the bank?” Jake waited to ask until the waitress left. “Don’t you have seniority or protection from being arbitrarily dismissed?”
“Theoretically, yes. But don’t forget I’m a bank teller who has been held up twice and who the FBI is suspicious of. I doubt seniority would factor into something like that. But even without that, it’d be so easy to fabricate a case against me. Mr. Gleaner could fudge my end-of-the-day numbers and make it look like my drawer was short. Or he could say he received complaints about my demeanor or my attitude. If he wanted, he could fire me within a week.”
“Is he the reason you detest the entire male population?”
She laughed. “One of them. But . . .” She cast her gaze away from his inquiring eyes, found nothing else to focus on, and raised her chin as she looked straight at him again. “You might as well know the whole sad saga that has become my life. I told you the other day that I threw my boyfriend out. Arthur and I lived together for a year. I thought he was my king.” She regarded Jake with a half-smile. “That’s a reference to Camelot. You probably don’t know that.”
A challenge. He loved it. “Knights of the Round Table. King Arthur. A Broadway play and a movie starring Richard Harris, I believe. Also used to refer to the presidency of the late John F. Kennedy. I’m pretty sure it only rains in Camelot after sundown.”
A smile exploded across her face and the light in her eyes ignited a spark in his heart. Suddenly the stress of the past days evaporated and he saw more teeth in that grin than he’d seen since he met her.
She bowed her head in tribute. “You surprise me, sir.”
Wouldn’t be the only time, he hoped. He returned her grin.
“Well, my King Arthur turned out to be king creep. A liar and a cheat. It took me a while to admit it because, well, quite frankly I let my pride dictate my life. That was a mistake I’ll never make again.”
Jake studied her as she spoke, still assessing her body language. Her control remained steadfast. “I’m sorry.”
A deep breath as she resigned herself to the facts. “Don’t be. Any feelings I had for him, or thought I had, are long gone. Mentally and emotionally I’m fine, even happy to be out of that relationship. I was totally prepared to move on.
“What I wasn’t prepared for was Arthur’s parting stab in the back. I ordered him to move out because it was my apartment to begin with. The day that I was robbed the first time was the day he was supposed to remove all of his belongings. I was scheduled for a longer day because the bank was participating in the town’s community celebration and staying open until seven. I figured that allowed him plenty of time to get in and get out without my seeing him. That’s why I was hanging around the mall instead of going home after the bank closed. I was giving him time to take everything out.
“Only the joke was on me because that’s exactly what he did. He took everything from my apartment, right down to the light bulbs. He left me a lumpy futon and a nasty note. He also wiped out my bank accounts, closed my credit cards and changed all my logins and passwords on everything: utilities, phone, you name it. I figure I have about sixty days to recoup before I’m evicted and once this month’s bills aren’t paid, my credit will start to tank. I’m one of those people who lives beyond their means. It was easy to do with his paycheck supplementing my whims.”
She spread her hands to indicate their dinner plates. “The list of creditors will be long so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait in line for repayment of this meal and my car repairs.”
“Jesus, Kenna, did you call the police? Do you know where he went? That’s theft. He committed a crime.”
“Yep, that’s my luck. Robbed twice in one day. I didn’t call the police because I don’t know where he went. And I can’t prove anything. My bank account was emptied from my computer using my identity so it looks like I did it.”
“You should still get a report on file. You know his contact information.”
She shook her head. “I tried calling him but the cell phone number is no longer in service.”
He nodded. Victims usually possessed more personal knowledge about someone than they realized. “You know more than you think, honey. I assume you know his birth date, maybe even his Social Security number. You know the type of car he drives, possibly the license number. You know where he works, where he takes his dry cleaning, where he likes to shop, what organizations he belongs to, who his insurance carrier is. All that is valuable information the police could use to locate him.”
Her eyes narrowed, her fork dangling in the air. “You’re some kind of cop, right?”
“Who? Me?”
“Yeah, that’s what you said in the coffee shop when I asked what you did. You said security. What exactly do you do because you sure seem to sit on the right side of the law.”
Tread carefully, Manettia. “Maybe it’s just that I know right from wrong. And what Arthur did is wrong, not to mention illegal.”
Now she tilted her head, closed one eye halfway, and studied him. “Come to think of it, you told Mr. Gleaner on the phone that your name is Jake Manettia but when we were in the grocery store, that’s not the name your friend Vincent used. He called you something different, didn’t he?”
Dammit. Ted’s attempted manipulation of Kenna had him so worked up, he’d identified himself on the phone using his real name, instead of his undercover name. He should have heeded his boss’s advice and stayed away from her.
“Vinny never gets his facts straight. I don’t recall what name he used. And you’re trying to change the subject. You should call the police and file a report. And while you’re being assertive, you should let Old Boss Man Gleaner know you aren’t going to stand for his harassment.”
She propped her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her hand. “Tell the police and tell Mr. Gleaner. And what should I tell you, Mr. Mystery Man?”
~ ~ ~
Mackenna felt a surge of satisfaction. The question had surprised Jake and he dropped back into his chair. Good. Jake the Jerk was a little too confident for his own good. Although after having her arms around him on the motorcycle and now sharing dinner, he was hardly a jerk. Rather attractive and she liked his wit. Lots of muscles were concealed beneath his clothes. She’d felt them while pressed against him on the bike. A flat, firm stomach and taut back muscles that flexed with his movements. The proximity of their bodies coupled with the vibration from the motorcycle ride had been rather stimulating. After he suggested it, she’d imagined them taking that ride in the country on a sunny afternoon, stopping for a picnic lunch in a grassy pasture, and tasting each other on the blanket for dessert. It’d been too long since she’d been loved, truly adored. Arthur had been disappointing in the affection arena and rather bland between the sheets, like she was fragile glass that he feared would break. And so he hardly touched her. And if she were honest with herself, he’d only used her, never really loved her.
Contact with Jake had been minimal yet she’d welcomed his hold on her elbow and his hand riding her hip, easily gliding her through the mall. Being physically near him was rather pleasant. Jake, in his black leather with thighs strong enough to balance a Harley and a rider, might be a bad boy but he sparked a fire in her belly. She’d always been a good girl. Maybe it was time to cross over to naughty. She smiled at her thoughts while his royal blue eyes studied her.
“You haven’t answered my question, Jake.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid if I answer you honestly, you’ll be offended. I’m enjoying this meal with you and I don’t want to make you mad again.”
She felt empowered. “You told me earlier at the FBI office that as long as I tell the truth, I have nothing to worry about. You must believe honesty is a good policy so I encourage you to be honest.”
He mirrored her posture, propping his elbow on the table and settling his chin in his hand. They were face to face and her eyes dropped to his mouth when he spoke.
“What should you tell me? You should say ‘Jake, I like you and I’d like to spend more time with you.’ And you should say ‘Jake, later when you ask if you can kiss me, I’m going to say yes.’ Then you should add, ‘I want to make love with you someday, Jake, because I know you’re a good man and that’s what I need.’”
She jerked back as if the heat of his words scorched her face. He sat back as well. “You requested honesty, Kenna.”
Her heart fluttered. “Well, you didn’t have to be quite so honest. I’m not interested in another relationship. I told you, I’m off men. And I barely know you.”
He pushed his chair back. “Let’s head home and I’ll tell you all about my Southern mama and three sisters while I’m making up the sofa.”
She remained seated and stared up at him. “Can I change my mind, Jake? It’s nothing against you, I’m just not comfortable going home with you. I’m certain your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate it either. I’d like to go back to my place. I don’t think Mr. Gleaner will bother me tonight. He thinks I won’t be there.”
She wasn’t confident of that fact but sleeping in the same building let alone the same apartment as Jake seemed dangerous and, as tempting as it sounded, she wasn’t quite ready to cross over to naughty. At least she assumed he lived in an apartment. She knew practically nothing about this man who still held out his hand, waiting for her to stand. She didn’t trust her desire to learn more about him.
“It’s fine if you’d rather go home, Kenna, but I think I should camp out at your place then, just in case. I’m on my best behavior, so you don’t have to worry.”
Her hand slid tentatively into his and she rose. “No furniture, remember? The only option would be to sleep on the floor. I doubt that would be very comfortable.”
“I’ve slept in foxholes, sugar. A carpeted floor will be heaven. And once we get there, we’ll call Courtney so she can assure you she’s just my friend.”
Mackenna remained still. His hand clung to hers but she hadn’t moved with him when he took his first step. He paused, silently questioning her hesitation.
“One more thing, Jake.”
He waited.
“No kiss.”
“No, ma’am. Not until you’re ready.”