Chapter Seven
Delighted to have Nick and his appetite in her kitchen, Mary prepared an elaborate breakfast. But while Nick fed his inner man with gusto, Lindsey’s stomach rebelled at the sight of so much food. Carefully seating herself on the opposite side of the table from him, she felt his eyes on her as she drank coffee and forced herself to eat some toast.
Mary clucked at her as usual, but she was in so much turmoil she was sure food wouldn’t sit well on her stomach. Her sleep had been restless but at least, thank the Lord, not disturbed by the awful nightmares.
Nick had put on his jeans and T-shirt again, and she looked at him questioningly. Surely he wasn’t going to wear that to her office.
“We’re going to stop by my place on the way in,” he told her. “I need a bigger wardrobe if we’re going to be coming out here every night, and I want to ditch my dirty laundry.”
“We won’t be long, will we?” She looked at her watch. “I told you I need to get to the office.”
“And you will. I won’t be but a couple of minutes.”
Promptly at eight-thirty, they pulled out through the gates onto the country highway. Lindsey glanced at Nick, and the same feeling washed over her again, the one she’d felt from their first meeting. Solid. Safe. Secure. The scruff that darkened his jaw line gave him a slightly menacing look, and she swallowed a smile. She hoped the stalker would get a good look at him this way. Maybe she could persuade him not to shave.
“Are you all right?”
With his eyes shielded the way they were, she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or not. “Yes. Fine. Why?”
He shrugged. “You just seem a little quiet.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course. Let’s see if I can distract you a little. What kind of books do you like to read?”
“What?” The question startled her. “Books?”
“Yes. I know you like to read. The bookshelves in your living room are crammed with all kinds of genres. Myself, I like political thrillers, histories, and biographies. So what’s on your preference list?”
By the time they reached his house, Lindsey had begun to see even more of the real depth of this man, the extent of his quiet intelligence. It seemed the more layers she peeled back, the more she was attracted to him. Something she’d have to keep a tight rein on. But she realized his ploy had worked. Some of the tension had eased from her body.
Nick’s house, a two-story soft red-brick Tudor in upscale Alamo Heights, had a settled look to it. Mature plantings bordered the house, and two large crape myrtle trees stood sentinel in the front yard. Someone took very good care of the magnificent landscaping, keeping it neat and fresh and well-trimmed. Not at all what she’d been expecting.
He punched a code into the transmitter clipped to his sun visor, and the garage door slid open. Grabbing his bag from the back seat, he led Lindsey inside and waved her toward the living room.
“Look around if you’d like,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time. “I’ve heard architects like to take apart houses they didn’t design. I’ll be right down.”
Lindsey looked around curiously. The house was impressive, with its spacious rooms, high ceilings, and wide windows. The floors were all original wood, polished to a high gloss. Crown molding trimmed the ceilings, giving them a traditional look. The furniture was masculine but not overbearingly so, mostly oak with rich burgundy leather upholstery. Everything had been carefully chosen for comfort as well as style. She wondered who’d been his decorator.
The whole traditional ambience startled her. Somehow she’d pictured him in an ultra-modern condo overlooking a golf course, with furniture that looked like something from the next century. Maybe because all the other men his age she knew found that to be appropriate, a symbol of their lifestyle. But this was the place of a man who wanted to make a home, a fact that startled her.
She was exploring the gleaming kitchen with its oak cabinets and quartz counters when she heard Nick come downstairs.
“All set,” he said, walking into the kitchen. He had changed into gray slacks, a gray and white striped shirt, and a black sports jacket.
“Is black and gray the required color combination for security?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Helps blend into the crowd better.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “I think the FBI started it.”
“Your house surprises me,” she told him. “I never would have pegged you for such a traditionalist.”
“It grounds me,” he said. “Everything else in my life is so transient because of my job that I needed something to give me a sense of belonging to the human race. Actually, one of my sisters is a real estate agent. She found it for me and badgered me until I bought it.”
Lindsey kept forgetting he had a family somewhere out there. Another interesting side to an image he tried to keep one-dimensional.
In the hallway, he picked up the soft leather suitcase and garment bag he’d left there. “Ready?”
“Are you planning on moving in?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Just being prepared.” He winked. “Okay. Let’s get going.”
They were silent on the trip to her office, but the silence this time was more comfortable than before. She knew Nick was alert, watching for any car that might be tailing them or anything out of the ordinary, so she just leaned back and closed her eyes until they reached the parking garage.
Brianna and Mark were both waiting somewhat impatiently outside the office when they exited the elevator, Bri’s foot tapping a sharp staccato. The techno twins were waiting stolidly with them, unfazed.
“We’ve got everything set up, Mr. Vanetta,” one of them said. “We didn’t want to give out the code cards before you got here. And we want to walk both you and Miss Ferrell through the setup.”
Nick nodded his thanks.
One of the men opened the aluminum case in his hand to reveal a built-in machine of some sort. He took out four plastic cards and ran each through a programmer. At the same time, his partner punched something into a handheld computer. Finally, they handed out the cards.
“Each of you has your own code programmed in,” the first one explained. “Whenever you enter or leave, a message gets sent to a central computer that records who it is and the date and time. Mr. Vanetta, we made one for you, too, so you wouldn’t need to borrow someone’s card to come and go.”
“Thanks.” Nick looked at Lindsey. “It’s standard procedure to give the agency a code card for every system Guardian sets up.”
Everyone swiped their cards to enter the suite of offices, then Nick gave them a tour of the new alarm system. He called his office to tell them he was running a test, then watched while each person practiced setting the codes. After that, Brianna went to her desk to check their messages and Mark made himself invisible in the workroom.
Lindsey was the only one Nick showed the system for the apartment. He had separate key cards for the entrances from the office and the hall and a totally separate setup for her private system.
“From here on out,” he told her, “no staff in the living quarters.”
“All right,” she nodded. “Now, I’d better get started on those projects before my clients beat down the door.”
“I’ll be in your apartment working on my laptop, if that’s okay. And it’ll give me privacy while I call the office.”
“Fine. No problem.” She punched the intercom. “Bri, you need to hold my calls until lunch, unless it’s something earth-shattering.”
“Will do.”
Nick spent most of the morning out of sight, although periodically he would silently come to the connecting door to check on her. He also strolled the corridor occasionally, pretending to search for an office or the men’s room, looking for anyone or anything that appeared out of place.
The office hummed quietly with work. Even the ring of the telephone seemed muted as they all went about their assignments.
At twelve-thirty, Brianna tapped on Lindsey’s door and walked in.
“Here are your messages.” She handed over a stack of pink slips. “Nothing urgent, but a couple of prospective clients called for appointments. Just make a note of what you want to do with them, and I’ll call them back. I sent the Randolph and Marquez documents to your computer for you to check. Make your changes, and I’ll get them out. And I’m going to lunch.”
“Where’s Mark?” Lindsey rotated her shoulders, working out the kinks.
“He left a few minutes ago. I caught him talking on the phone just before he left and blushing.” She grinned. “I think he’s got a girlfriend.”
“Mark?” Lindsey swallowed her amazement. “I didn’t think he knew what girls were for.”
“Just goes to show you, right?” She turned to leave. “See you in about an hour.”
“Yes. Okay. Just lock everything on your way out and set the alarm. I think I’ll eat in.”
“With the hunk?” Brianna teased.
“He’s working here as private security,” Lindsey reminded her primly.
Brianna laughed and closed the door.
Lindsey hadn’t heard the connecting door open or sensed any movement, but suddenly Nick was standing beside her.
“I checked your cupboards,” he said. “I can’t believe you eat some of that stuff. We’ll have to do some grocery shopping.”
“Maybe you’d like to give me a list,” she bit off. “Or should we have put your food requirements in your contract?”
Damn. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so sharp.
“One of these days that smart tongue of yours is going to get you in real trouble. You’re lucky I’m such an easygoing guy.” He grinned. “We can go to the Central Market later and lay in some supplies for when we stay here. Meanwhile, let’s slip out the side door and go grab something quick. I’ve got someone keeping an eye on the office while we’re gone.”
“All right, but nothing fancy like yesterday. Just a sandwich. Besides, I don’t need too many top dollar meals showing up on the expense account.”
His hand tightened on her arm, and he yanked her around to face him. His eyes, which normally gleamed like blue fire, now looked like ice trapped on the bottom of the ocean.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he asked through gritted teeth. “I thought we’d settled into a pretty good working relationship. For your information, when I ask someone out to lunch, it comes out of my pocket. Yesterday, I entertained a client. Today we’re just stoking the engine.”
She dropped her gaze. When had sounding like a shrew become a defense against her reaction to Nick? “I’m sorry. I’m just…tense.”
He relaxed, nodding his head. “Understood. Now. Do you have a preference?”
She dragged up a smile. “As a matter of fact, I do. Schilo’s. It’s just down the street, and I could really go for one of their corned beef sandwiches.”
Schilo’s, a German delicatessen, was a long-standing favorite of San Antonio residents who loved the mouth-watering sandwiches, homemade soups, and great sausage platters. The place was always crowded with a mixture of business people and tourists. She hoped they could find a table. If not, they could always take their lunch back to the apartment with them.
“Let’s go, then.” Nick made her go through all the security steps from the office to the apartment and then out into the hall. The elevator stopped at every floor as it usually did at this time of day, but finally, they were outside and heading along the sidewalk.
As they stood at the corner waiting for the light to change someone shouted Nick’s name. He turned his head to see who was calling to him, momentarily stepping away from her.
As she stepped closer to the curb to get out of the way of the crowd on the sidewalk, she felt a hand against her back. The next thing she knew, she was shoved forward just as a big VIA bus came lumbering around the corner. The fender brushed her knee, nearly knocking her under the wheels.
She screamed, flailing her arms in panic.