Chapter Ten
Bethany
I must have stared at my phone for a full five minutes because I didn't move until I heard my clock chime noon. Then I sat back and fell into the long-ago memory.
Dylan had been a messy-headed little boy with a wide grin. We'd met in school and lived close enough to each other that it only seemed natural to play together when we weren't in school. We met by the creek and played away long nights before our parents called us in.
I used to think of him as the young knight to the princess I was sure I was. Or the fire watcher to my park ranger.
Or my first crush.
It had come on slowly, confused by the fact that we were just friends. Then suddenly puberty hit, and we couldn't just play together. There was more.
My heart squeezed as I waded into the part of the memory that I normally skipped. There had been a whole summer when Dylan had avoided me. A whole summer when I thought he'd outgrown me or fallen in love with some other girl.
Then I found out he was moving.
Dylan didn't show up again until the last day he lived in my neighborhood. I thought he was already gone and had spent the morning laying heartsick next to the creek.
He had showed up, cheeks blazing, and blurted out that he already missed me. Then, almost by accident, we kissed.
My phone rang, and I jumped so high that I stood up to answer it. "Hello? Bethany Durham."
"Durham, I like your initial findings. I want you to focus on the cars that ended up shipped overseas to high-end buyers," the DA said.
"We only have two completed reports that later discovered the cars overseas," I said.
"Great. Start there. Dig deep," she said. "That has to be where they make the most money. Always follow the money, Durham."
She hung up without another word.
I collapsed back into my chair and tried to clear my head. It didn't matter that my first crush, my first kiss, had sideswiped me. Plenty of women rang into exes every day. And we were only children! It wasn't real love.
My heart ached as I remembered how convinced I had been that Dylan was the only love for me. In my adolescent mind, we could have spent the rest of our days together chasing new adventures.
Instead, he stole my first kiss and disappeared.
I was still reeling between my attraction to the adult Dylan and my bittersweet memories of him as a child when the DA burst into my office.
"Durham, where did that first Ferrari end up?" she asked.
"Ah, Germany." I sat up and pulled myself together.
Taylor gave me an apologetic wave from the door. He had just returned from lunch, too late to warn me the DA was on a tear.
She flapped her hand at me, too impatient to get her hands on the file. "What happened in Germany? How did it resurface?"
I opened my mouth and then cringed as my phone rang. Taylor leaped for his desk and intercepted it.
"Who is it?" the DA asked, annoyed.
Taylor intercepted the phone call, so I shrugged. "I'm sorry for the interruption."
"Who is it?" she called to my assistant. "Maybe it's that whacko from the classic car museum I tried to call this morning."
"It's Dylan Wylde for Ms. Durham." Taylor's voice was timid over the intercom.
"Dylan Wylde, Dylan Wylde. Why do I know that name?" The DA scrunched up her forehead and held up both hands. "Wait, don't tell me. He's that mechanic to the stars. The one who does all the outrageous custom work?"
"Yes. I can explain," I said.
"This is great!" The DA bounced from one foot to the other. "Dylan Wylde is one hundred times better as an expert witness than that kook from the classic car museum. Good work, Durham."
I swallowed hard. "Ah, he's not calling about the case. Dylan is, he's actually, um, he's an old friend."
"Even better!" The DA clapped her hands. "Good work contacting him."
"Um, I didn't," I confessed. "I just ran into him the other night but—"
"Why is he calling?" the DA interrupted me.
I sucked in a tight breath. "He's been trying to ask me out."
"When?"
"Tonight," I said.
The DA cracked a strategic smile. "Perfect. Let him take you to dinner. See what kind of information you can get from him. Tell me everything tomorrow and if he's a good source then we'll bring him in."
"Tell you everything?" I squeaked.
That made her laugh. "Everything about the case. Consider yourself lucky, Durham. No one else around here has gone on a date in years, much less a work-sanctioned one."
I put a shaking hand on my telephone and gave my boss one last unsure look. "Shouldn't I just tell him we want his help on the case?"
"No! Don't put him off. If he thinks it's just you, and that's it's personal, then he'll open up ten times more than if we brought him in all formal," she said. "We really need an insider, and these cars guys can be a tight group."
I gulped but couldn't bring myself to pick up Dylan's call. "So, it has to be a date?" I asked my boss.
The DA slapped her hands down on my desk. "Yes, Durham! Drink wine, laugh about old times, get him to relax, and then start asking questions."
"All right," I squeaked.
She rubbed her hands together and waited while I picked up Dylan's call. "This is Bethany," I said.
"I hope I didn't freak you out earlier. I just can't believe you're that Bethany, you know?" Dylan's voice was a little breathless.
"I can't believe it either," I said.
The DA made impatient hand gestures in front of my desk. "Make it tonight," she hissed.
"So," Dylan said, "I don't care how far ahead we have to plan, we need to have dinner and catch up."
"How about tonight?" I asked. "My, ah, meeting was canceled."
Dylan agreed, took my address down, and said he'd pick me up at eight o'clock. I hung up the phone with a trembling hand.
"Well, that was awkward but effective. Go home, get ready for your date, and don't forget to study up on the sports cars from the case. Get me that expert witness!" The DA slapped my desk one more time and then marched out of my office.
I collapsed in my office chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. My mind was a fog of confusion, worry, and excitement. I had my first date in years and it was with Dylan Wylde. The first crush I had ever had, my first kiss, and the first boy to break my heart and get away with it.
I could have happily avoided Dylan for another decade at least but now I only had a few hours before we were face to face again. A hundred thoughts raced through my head but only one came out clear:
What was I going to wear?