“This whole damsel in distress thing isn’t nearly as sexy as it sounds in the books,” Charlotte said into the phone as she also munched on a carrot stick.

I laughed. “What books are you reading? Because I’m not sure hiding out from a deranged killer has ever sounded sexy.”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Aren’t there a bunch of stories where a strong, handsome prince rescues the wayward princess from the clutches of an evil mastermind?” She sighed, as if she could use her own handsome prince.

“I take it Gage isn’t living up to your fantasies?”

She huffed. “He acts like I don’t even exist. We’ve spent zero time together since we got here. I think he might be avoiding me.

I scribbled a random doodle in my notebook as I stared out the windows at the Sitka spruce that seemed to stretch from here to eternity. “I’m tempted to ask where ‘here’ is, but since you’re not supposed to know where I am, my guess is the same rules apply to your location.”

She chuckled, and then sighed. “Let’s just say the BBQ doesn’t live up to the hype.”

“So either Texas, Tennessee, or North Carolina,” I guessed. 

“I sometimes forget how serious you are about your meat.”

“You know I never joke about meat,” I told her, picturing Ash as he’d walked from his home gym to the back of the house, his sweat-soaked chest glistening and his muscles rippling with each step he took. “Hot, juicy, mouthwatering meat.”

As if she could read my mind, Charlotte asked, “Speaking of, how are things going with Ash?

“About the same as you. I already told you what happened in the car on the way to the airport, and then on the plane.”

“You don’t know that he’s slept with her,” Charlotte countered. “I mean, maybe she was just appreciating his fine masculine form.”

“No, she’s slept with him before. A woman doesn’t look at a man like that unless she knows exactly what he’s working with.”

“Awkward.”

I nodded, but then remembered she couldn’t see me. I’d been worried what it would be like to be separated from Charlotte, but we talked at least once a day so I hadn’t had a chance to miss her yet. Sometimes I forgot she wasn’t sitting there next to me. “The worst of it is while I’m sitting there wracking my brain trying to remember that night, she’s sizing him up like she can’t wait to repeat the experience.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “It isn’t even that she fucked him too. I can hardly complain about that. I’m just jealous, you know?”

“And you haven’t talked again? It sounds like you were making headway with each other and for him to just drop it seems odd.”

“Nope,” I answered. “Like I said, I think he’s avoiding me. He does his morning rounds of the property and then he disappears for hours at a time. He ran into town yesterday to pick up a huge grocery delivery. When he dropped the bags off in the kitchen, he confirmed he’d found the paprika I asked for and that was it. Not another word since.”

She groaned. “I hate that.”

“Me too,” I sighed. I was so confused about the way Ash behaved toward me now. It was like we were practically strangers. If I was being honest with myself, after our interlude in the SUV and then our conversation on the plane, I thought we’d grown close. Or rather, closer. I hadn’t expected him to treat me like a pariah.

“What are you going to do?” Charlotte asked, snapping another carrot stick between her teeth.

“I guess I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing. I need to finish choosing songs for the record, and then I’ll ask him for help. I’m still skeptical he can run the boards, but it is what it is.” I sighed. I hadn’t been looking forward to recording this album in the first place, and having an amateur in charge of the equipment was one additional reason to shelve it until I could do it properly. But no. I’d made a commitment to the label, and after everything else I’d put them through, keeping my word now was paramount. They hadn’t needed to stand by me when my name was dirt, but they had. This was the least I could do.

“Worst case scenario is I end up with some demos I can make sense of once I’m back home. The label is giving me a long leash with this one, so that’s a huge relief. I mean, this isn’t exactly what you’d consider ideal working conditions.”

“No, I can’t imagine it is,” Charlotte agreed. “But I have complete faith in you.” 

“Thanks,” I said, closing my notebook. “You’re probably the only one who does, but it still means a lot to me.”

I heard a loud noise in the background and then Charlotte said, “Hey, I gotta go. I’ve got purple dye on my head I need to wash out.”

“Wait, what? How come you waited until now to mention this? Way to bury the lead, Char.”

She laughed. “Sorry. I told you I was bored though, and you know how I get when I’m restless.”

I did know. The last time she’d had nothing to do—when I was deep in rehab and her job was effectively put on hold—she’d joined a gym and lost fifteen pounds. Then she’d cut off all her hair, canceled her gym membership, and started taking cooking classes, effectively negating all the time she’d spent trying to lose weight.

“I’ll send you a picture when I’m done,” she continued, “and you can tell me how beautiful I look.”

“Or ridiculous,” I teased.

“You’re just jealous you can’t live out your lifelong dream of becoming Rainbow Brite because your hair’s too dark.”

“Okay, go wash that stuff out. It’s rotting your brain. Talk later?”

“Same bat time, same bat channel,” Charlotte answered, blowing a kiss through the receiver and then hanging up.

I looked at the clock hanging over the mantel. Three o’clock in the afternoon. Shit. These days were dragging. How was I going to keep myself occupied for the next nine hours? I blew out a breath and stared out the window again. The police needed to catch my stalker, and soon. Because if Charlotte was getting restless, I was getting positively itchy. And when I got itchy, things turned bad.