Chapter 4

At Derek's announcement, I heard myself gasp, and I wasn't the only one.

Behind me, one of the girls whispered to the other, "Hey, can I borrow ten bucks?"

"What for?"

"Oh c'mon." She giggled. "You know. Just in case."

"Oh, rats," the other one said. "All I have is quarters. You know, for the snack machine."

Listening, I wanted to scream. We didn't have a snack machine. And if they started tucking quarters into the guy's pants, a chair to the shin would be the least of their problems.

The stranger gave me a perplexed look. "A stripper?"

"Yeah," Derek called back. "The kind who shakes his thing and dances for money."

Thunderstruck, I didn't know what to say. But I did know one thing. If the floor opened up right now and swallowed me whole, I'd consider it a huge favor.

But unfortunately, the estate's foundation was one of the few things that wasn't falling apart.

Stupidly, I tried to explain. "No, I didn't. Well, I mean, I did. But that's only because of my aunt, and she's not here." I shoved a hand through my hair. "Anyway, I'm so sorry. I feel really awful, so…"

"So," Derek called over me, "if you wanna make some extra cash, go ahead. We'll make it worth your while."

It was then that the stranger made his move – but not toward me, toward Derek.

In the blink of an eye, the guy was halfway around the table. Derek jumped to his feet, sending his own chair flying backward. By the time it slammed into the back wall, the stranger and Derek were standing chest-to-chest – and Derek hadn't even moved.

I felt myself swallow. The stranger was fast. Scary fast.

His muscles were bulging, and his fists were tight. He looked like he wanted to mangle something – Derek, in particular.

I couldn't exactly blame him. I wanted to mangle Derek, too.

Desperate to smooth things over, I leaned around Derek and told the guy, "He was only joking." My voice hardened. "And he's sorry, too." I gave Derek a not-so-friendly tap to the shoulder. "Right?"

I couldn't see Derek's face, but I could see his posture just fine. He was anything but contrite. Sure enough, no apology came.

Well, that was helpful.

Around us, the room had fallen utterly silent. I glanced around. No one made a move – not to intervene, not to break the tension, not even to call for help.

As for the two interns, they were eying the stranger like he was the sexiest morsel they'd ever seen. The nearest one licked her lips and leaned forward, as if wanting a closer look.

Oh, for God's sake.

I spoke up. "Alrighty then." I forced a smile. "Let's just reschedule, okay? We'll give it another shot."

From the corner of my eye, I caught one of the interns pulling out her cell phone. She held it out, as if preparing to take a picture – of the guy, apparently.

I tried not to notice. "And next time," I continued, "we'll make sure it's a smaller group." 

With no drooling interns. And definitely no Derek.

Again, I looked to the stranger. When our gazes met, I sucked in a quiet breath.

Wow. If I wasn't careful, those eyes – dark and intense beyond description – would be my undoing. In spite of everything else, I felt my lips part and my knees go weak.

Cripes. If I didn't get a grip, I'd be mopping up my own drool, too.

Hoping not to show it, I said, "So anyway, thanks for coming. But for now, I think you'd better go."

"Yeah," Derek said. "You heard her. Grab your shit, and get out."

What the hell? I wanted to scream in frustration. So much for a friendly resolution.

The guy gave Derek a long cold look. "Didn't you hear?" the stranger said. "I didn't bring any 'shit.'"

Something about that look made Derek take a small step backward. His voice rose. "I said this meeting's over."

"Uh-huh." The stranger edged closer. "You're the one who got me here, right? So come on." He held up his hands. "Make me leave."

I felt my eyebrows furrow. What?

Over his shoulder, Derek said, "Call security."

I gave a confused shake of my head. "What security?"

"The police," he said. "Whatever."

I frowned. I didn't want to call the police. For one thing, the guy hadn't even touched him. For another, Derek had been a total jerk. If the guy slugged him, Derek would have no one to blame but himself.

I felt like slugging Derek, and I wasn't even the violent type.

My gaze shifted to the stranger. Was he the violent type? His muscles were taught, and his eyes were hard. Something about his stance told me he wasn't a stranger to physical conflict.

And now, Derek was panicking. Should I panic, too? Obviously, Derek knew way more than he was saying.

I said, "Derek, what's going on?"

When he said nothing, I looked back to the stranger. Our gazes locked, and for some weird reason, I couldn’t look away – at least, not until a flash of light broke the spell.

I turned and spotted one of the interns, shoving a cell phone back into her purse. It was the same girl I'd accidentally hit with my chair. When she saw me looking, she gave a little wave. "Sorry."

What could I say? I heard myself murmur, "That's, um, okay?" It was, after all, the same thing she'd said to me. Probably, she hadn't been any more sincere than I was.

Politeness – it could be really confusing sometimes.

The stranger gave a humorless laugh. "Screw this. I'm outta here."

I turned just in time to see him reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pull out a tightly folded slip of paper. He tossed it onto the floor and turned away, striding toward the open doorway.

And then, he was gone.

A split-second later, the two interns were scrambling after him. As they moved, one of them called back to the rest of us. "Be back in a minute!"

"Uh, yeah," the other one said. "We're just gonna hit the snack machine."

Silently, I stared after them. Snack machine, my ass.