Authors: Dee J. Adams
“I don’t know that you want to. I’m pretty pissed off at the moment. Not too much fun to be around.”
“I’ll take my chances.” She sat down.
With the glare of the sun out of his eyes he saw her clearly. She had a plate of food in her hand. A couple of hours ago she’d looked tired and worn-out. Now…he didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked stunning. Her face glowed with vitality, her green eyes shone with life and the circles underneath were nonexistent. “Wow, you look great,” he said.
“Thanks. Lucia saw me and about had a heart attack. She made me sit in her chair and she fixed me.” She handed over the plate. “I made you a sandwich.”
His heart turned over at the same time his mouth watered ferociously. The huge sandwich had been sliced in quarters complete with toothpicks in the middle. “Thanks.” He couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him a meal. Any type of meal. Sandwich included. Seemed like he was always expected to wine and dine
them
.
“I thought you might like some of these too,” she said, waving a small bag of potato chips before tossing them on his lap. “What’s a sandwich without chips…”
She was nervous. Couldn’t meet his gaze. “You know what they say…the quickest way to a man’s heart…” Things had changed between them and Quinn didn’t like it. He wanted the fun. The make-out sessions. They’d been on the verge of something spectacular and now they’d taken three steps back. He wanted to feel her skin under his hands and see her eyes sparkle with laughter and burn with desire. With him. For him.
Besides that, he wanted to make sure she was all right. Here she was taking care of
him
. “Did you eat something?” he asked.
She nodded once. “I did. I indulged in a waffle when I got here.”
That was better than nothing, but still not enough. Quinn handed over a quarter of his sandwich. “Eat,” he ordered. He took a bite. Sandwich heaven. Closing his eyes, he chewed. “Oh my God,” he said, his mouth full. “Who said a turkey on rye isn’t nirvana?” Six bites later, he’d demolished the whole thing. “God, I needed this. Thanks.” He crunched a chip and she smiled.
“I figured I owed you,” she said, swallowing her last bite.
Owed him? She’d saved his life yesterday.
He shook his head. “You don’t owe me any—”
“Just shut up and let me talk,” she said. Her smile didn’t waver, but a steely look had her green eyes growing darker. “Not too many people would do what you did last night.”
“That’s not—”
She made a sound and stuck a finger in the air to quiet him. “Most men would’ve run as soon as the toilet seat hit the tank.” He grinned at the picture. “But you stayed. And you made sure I was okay.” She looked away before meeting his gaze. “I have to apologize again.” She sighed. “For…for…I shouldn’t have…” she swallowed, “…attacked you the way I did last night.”
“You had the rug pulled from under you yesterday. That was a shock. You don’t have to apologize.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted. She twirled the ring on her finger mercilessly. “Do you think I’ve ever…I’ve ever thrown myself at someone like I did yesterday?”
Nope. Never. “I’m betting not,” he said, popping another chip in his mouth.
“Well, you’d win that bet.” She stared off in the distance. “Look, I’m embarrassed and I want you to know that I’m sorry I put you in that position.”
“Is everything okay with you and Mac?” she asked with a quick subject change. “I heard you guys arguing.” She glanced up, looking as guilty as a child caught with a handful of forbidden candy. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? Because of yesterday. You were with me and you were supposed to be meeting Mac.”
Shit. Nothing like a smooth segue into a topic he didn’t want to discuss. Between the sandwich and Ellie’s company, Quinn had actually lost the bad mood he’d started with. He shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault. He’s been treating me like this for years.”
“Like what?” She tipped her head to the side and the sun lit her hair like gold. No doubt about it. With the delivery of one sandwich and a bag of chips, she’d become his personal angel, complete with halo and big heart to boot.
“It’s hard to explain.” Quinn crunched another chip. How could he make sense of his relationship with Mac? “I’m less than. I’m not worthy. I’m the little brother he’s always taken care of and I have no brain, no thought process. No feelings.” After hearing that pitiful confession, she was bound to keep her distance.
Way to go, ace.
“Has he always been like that?”
Thinking back, Quinn sighed. “I remember one specific time,” he said, “and it pretty much went downhill from there. I was about twelve and Mac was teaching me to change the oil in the car. He was all over my case about the oil tray. ‘Don’t take the tray out until you’ve completely finished the job,’ he said. ‘The whole job.’” Quinn shrugged. “I heard him. I got it. After the old oil drained, I had to empty the tray. I made sure nothing was leaking. Everything was fine. I slid out from under the car, opened the new can, dumped it into the well and started cleaning up the garage. I went inside for something and came out to find oil running across the cement.” He shook his head. “I’d forgotten to screw the cap on. All the oil ran onto Dad’s brand-new garage floor. For the next six years all I heard every time I changed the oil was not to forget the goddamn tray. Like I hadn’t learned that lesson on my own the first time.” Quinn glanced at Ellie and shrugged. “That was pretty much the beginning. Dad got back from his trip and I had to come clean. He said it was just a floor and as long as I learned a lesson then we all had to move on. Mac always had a tough time trusting me after that.”
“He trusted you to run the company,” she pointed out.
“Sink or swim,” Quinn replied. “I think Mac liked to think of it as tough love.”
Pursing her lips, she nodded stoically. “Well…that sucks.” She smiled at him, but that was probably because he was grinning like a fool. It did suck. Big time. The fact that she understood him instead of trying to analyze him went a long way in his book too. “I can completely relate to it,” she said.
He doubted that. “C’mon…look at your job. You’re in a position almost every day where you risk your life. You work with mostly men who obviously respect you. They think highly of you. You’re smart, you’re quick. You’re everything I’m not.”
She laughed. “Okay…my bullshit meter just went off the chart.”
That stunned Quinn. “You think I’m bullshitting you? Why would I bullshit you? What could I possibly gain?”
Her smile faded. She knew damn well if he was trying to get into her pants, he’d had his opportunity. Maybe that dawned on her. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just so…you’re so off the mark. You really are.” Her phone jangled and she looked at the screen before flipping it open. “It’s Mark,” she told him. “Hey, what’s up?” she said into the receiver. “I’m here by the big willow tree.” She waved over her shoulder and Quinn followed her gaze. “Uh oh. I see them.” She listened and thanked him before flipping the phone closed.
Two men came toward them, both wearing suits. Quinn spotted a shoulder holster when the breeze lifted one man’s blazer. “Cops?” he said.
“Detectives,” she corrected.
More like Mutt and Jeff. One extremely tall guy looked as if he should’ve been playing in the NBA and the other shorter blond should’ve been an actor in the movie. “What do they want?” Quinn asked as they both got to their feet.
“I have no idea,” she said, brushing off her ass. “Mark said they were looking for me.”
“Did you rob a bank recently?”
“No.” She smacked his arm. Her eyes had that playful spark that he hadn’t seen in a day. For a moment, he had her back. For a second, the thing between them came to life and Quinn’s breath stalled in his lungs. But the police closed the gap, Ellie gave them her attention and the moment disappeared.
“Ellie Morgan?” the tall cop asked. He stuck out his hand when she nodded. “I’m Detective Patrick. This is my partner Detective O’Kelly. We’d like to talk to you for a couple of minutes if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” She introduced Quinn and he shook hands with both men. “What can I do for you?” Ellie said.
“We need to ask you a few questions about the accident yesterday. We got your name from the officers on the scene.”
The crime scene tape flashed in Quinn’s head. Jesus. The collapse had been intentional.
The blank look on Ellie’s face morphed into suspicion. “Are you saying the accident wasn’t an accident?”
“We’re not sure. Probably not,” Detective Patrick said. “We know security was breached at the construction site. We have a construction worker with a concussion, a woman in a coma, another woman in the morgue and a handful of injured pedestrians. It’s looking less like an accident and more like criminal intent. We’re talking to a lot of people, hoping to come up with a lead.”
“Wow.” Ellie huffed out a rush of air. The need to protect her, shield her, flooded Quinn’s veins. She shook her head. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, do you have any ex-boyfriends or know anyone who’d want to hurt you?”
“Me?” She seemed truly stunned by the question then she glanced at him shyly before focusing on the cops. “No. No exes to worry about. No enemies either, at least no one who’d want to bury me under a mountain of scaffolding. I can say the same thing for Ashley. I’ve known her since junior high. She’s great. She’s… No. She would’ve told me if she’d pissed someone off.”
The cops nodded and the taller one looked at Quinn. “Mr. Reynolds, what about you?”
Quinn shook his head. “I just got to town last week. I doubt I’ve pissed off anyone besides my brother and he’s not the killing type.” His attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.
The detectives shared a glance and the short one, O’Kelly, handed Ellie his card. “It’s very possible that the suspect didn’t have anyone particular in mind, but if you think of anything, give us a call,” he said.
“Of course. Yes.” Ellie took the card. As they watched the cops walk away, she shook her head. “I can’t believe someone would do something so horrible on purpose.”
“The world is full of crazies,” Quinn said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Ellie agreed. “If someone did do this intentionally, it wasn’t anyone Ashley or I know. It’s just not possible.” Any worry he may have had about this news upsetting her evaporated with the absolute certainty of her tone. Though she might’ve been thrown off balance for a minute, she’d bounced back with unwavering strength.
After a brief pause, she exhaled another deep breath and looked toward the set. “I should be getting back. Walk with me?”
“Hell, yes,” he said. She looked up with smiling eyes and he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, right in front of her coworkers, under the blazing sun.
He wanted her more fiercely than ever, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her and didn’t want a quick screw. He wanted her alone for hours. A lot of hours where nothing existed but just the two of them. And he didn’t see that happening.
Yes, he was truly, royally fucked.
Walking back toward the set, Ellie and Quinn moved in comfortable silence, their steps in tandem as they’d been on the beach. It seemed odd to be so in sync with a man who’d stormed into her life only a week ago. She would’ve paid money for him to haul her against him and kiss her. She wanted to feel all the electrifying sensations he sparked in her body. She wanted his hands on her skin and his tongue in her mouth. Talk about a complete turnaround.
She’d pegged him totally wrong. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he wasn’t staying. Even knowing his time in L.A. was temporary and despite breaking all her rules, she was ready to be with him.
One night with Quinn. The possibilities abounded. A night with Quinn’s arms around her and feeling him deep inside her body might keep her going for the rest of her life.
Contrition and guilt swept through her in a sick wave. How could she even think about being with Quinn when Ashley was in coma? There was something seriously wrong with her. She needed to focus on the most important thing and right now that was her best friend, not her sex life.
Ellie dismissed the idea that someone targeted either Ashley or her. A person had to have a serious enemy to go to that kind of extreme and she couldn’t think of anyone who might fit that bill. Besides, everyone loved Ashley. She was the good-time girl. Women loved her because she was a true friend and men loved her…for many, many other reasons.
Mark and some of the guys surrounded Ashley’s car. It was the perfect time to ask the favor she needed. “I’ve got a proposition,” she said, including all four men in front of her. She dangled the carrot most likely to work with any one of them. “I’ve got a steak dinner and a cold six-pack for anyone willing to drive to Barstow tonight to drop Ashley’s car with her mom. I need someone to follow me in my car so I can get home.”
The second AD, Teri, brought a crowd of extras as she readied the next shot. Two dozen strangers milled about and Teri waved wardrobe over for a last check.
“You’re not getting to Barstow tonight,” Brett said. “There’s a twenty-car pileup that’s got Interstate 15 gridlocked. I heard it’s not clearing up any time soon because of multiple fatalities.”
Great.
Ellie sighed. “Okay, so who wants to follow me
tomorrow?
I’ll even add a six-pack to go.” She gave them her hopeful puppy dog eyes.
“We can help you take both cars home tonight,” Mark said, gesturing to Brett. “It’s on our way. But I can’t help you out tomorrow. I told my cousin I’d help him move.”
“I can’t either,” Brett said. “Football game. Sorry.”
“I’ll follow you?” Quinn said, his jaw clenched tight. The man looked brittle enough to snap in two. It wasn’t as if she could ask him for more help. He’d done plenty already.
“What about your brother? I thought you needed to talk to Mac,” she said.
“I do. But half the day isn’t going to change things. I can follow you in the limo and we can ride back together.”
“No more limo.” She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, Quinn. I just like to drive. I’ve hardly been in my car for days and I want to cruise with the top down and enjoy the ride.” She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “Look, I know you don’t like to drive, and—”
His brows snapped together. “What makes you think that?”
“The fact that you rented a limousine and a driver for the duration of your stay was my first clue. I don’t blame you,” she said. “Los Angeles can be a bitch of a city to drive in if you’re not familiar with it. But I certainly wasn’t going to ask you to come along with me.”
“Just because I don’t drive doesn’t mean I can’t drive.” He rubbed his fist and Ellie got the impression she’d slighted him.
The stuntmen around her had dispersed…taking her limited options with them. “You seriously haven’t had enough of me, yet?” she said to Quinn. “I thought after yesterday, you know…you’d want a break.” Yesterday when she’d had intimate conversations with the toilet bowl. Gads.
“I told you if you needed me I’d help you. Whatever it was.” Their gazes locked and Quinn grinned, but it wasn’t his usual bright smile. This one had something else behind it, something intimate. It sent a sweet shiver down her back.
“If you’re really serious,” she said, “then you can drive my car and I’ll drive Ashley’s.”
He smiled, but put his palms up. “No way. I’m not driving your classic Mustang. I refuse to be responsible if something happens to it. I’d be more comfortable in a clunker than worrying about every yahoo on the road who might dent your Mustang. I’ll drive Ashley’s car.”
“Okay, if you’re sure…I’ll see you tomorrow morning at my place. I want to visit Ashley first, but then I’ll see you at the apartment at ten. How’s that?”
“It’s a date.” The light was back in his eyes. A smile curved his lips. The man was absolutely edible, and it never seemed to fail that he got his way.
Someone called Quinn’s name, and he and Ellie turned at the same time. One of the men Ellie had met the other day, Hank, strode up to them. He looked all business in his suit as he pumped Quinn’s hand. He extended a hand to her next. “Hey, nice to see you again.” His face lit up with a smile.
Ellie shook his hand. “Nice to see you too. I hope you’re having a good stay.”
“It’s business first this trip.”
Quinn slapped Hank’s shoulder. “Hank’s always about business. He’s been invaluable to the company.”
Grinning, Hank shook his head. “Stop already. You’re making me blush.” But he clearly enjoyed the attention.
“How’d you get on the set?” Quinn asked.
“I called Mac. He got me on. I know we were planning to meet later. I tried your cell but I only got voice mail and I wanted to give you an update…on our current situation.” He lowered his voice and leaned into Quinn. “I think I saw the Humvee he rented cruising around here a little while ago. Anyway, Mac said he had some time so I came over as quickly as I could.”
Neither man elaborated on the “current situation” or the man in the Humvee, which Ellie guessed had to be Aaron Gerhardt. After Quinn directed Hank to Mac’s trailer and told him he’d be there shortly, Hank headed off with another polite smile.
Ellie watched him go. “He seems nice.”
“He’s a good guy. He’s been with FRD almost since my dad started the company.” Quinn shifted his gaze from Hank back to her.
Suddenly she knew that taking Quinn’s time tomorrow was a bigger thing than he let on. “You’re sure about tomorrow? I really hate that I’m tak—”
“You’re not taking me away from anything. I offered.” He took her hands and Ellie looked into his eyes even though it about melted her heart to do it.
“Thank you. Really. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Quinn squeezed her hand. “I’d better go talk to Hank and Mac. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As Ellie watched him walk away, she never looked more forward to a new day.
Quinn headed to the trailer. What the hell had he done?
Drive? Was he really going to get behind the wheel of a car? Could he? He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. He forced out a deep breath. Fuck it. He could drive a damn car. And not kill anybody. It might not have been the case six months ago, but something like that accident couldn’t—wouldn’t—happen again.
Guilt rose up and swamped him. He’d been behind the wheel and he’d killed someone. His pulse quickened and he forced out another hard breath. Dammit. He had too much to do to think about this now.
Shoving the memories of that day aside, Quinn opened the door to Mac’s trailer without knocking. He grabbed a soda from the fridge before joining his brother and Hank at the corner table. “What’d I miss? I’d hate to think you were plotting behind my back.” He slid into the blue-and-red plaid bench seat and sipped his root beer.
“Paranoia doesn’t suit you, Quinn,” Mac grumbled.
“This isn’t paranoia. It’s business. Let’s cut to the deal. What did Gerhardt say that makes you think I left something out about his offer?”
“You didn’t tell me he came up another quarter of a million.”
Quinn snorted. “Because he didn’t. He came up two hundred grand and if he told you something different then he’s lying.”
“Either way, he came up with more money.” Mac sat back and spread his arms. “You can’t ignore it.”
“Sure I can. I’ve got George Brant waiting for my answer. He’ll buy FRD today if I tell him we have a deal.”
Hank shook his head. “I’m really hoping you don’t take that route, guys. I’ll be out of a job if you go with Brant. And let’s be honest here, aside from Kurt, I’m the only one who can run production at this point. I’m the troubleshooter.”
“Then you don’t have to worry,” Quinn said, jumping at the opportunity. “Brant won’t let you go when you’re so important to the new design.”
Rubbing his forehead, Hank sighed. “You don’t understand, Quinn. George and I go way back. He won’t keep me on.”
“What the hell did you do to piss him off so bad?” Quinn asked.
Hank leaned back in the seat. “It goes back to Purdue. We were in school together. Long story short, we’re oil and water. Never got along, never will.”
Brant had guaranteed that most of the employees at FRD would keep their jobs. But he’d said most. Not all. Apparently, Hank was part of the latter.
“Gerhardt all but guaranteed Hank’s job security when we spoke the other day,” Mac said. “He knows he needs him to oversee the new design.”
Quinn leveled his gaze at Hank, feeling as outnumbered as he was. “So you want the company to go to Gerhardt too? Is that it?” Hank didn’t answer and the makings of a headache stirred behind Quinn’s eyes. He took another hit from his soda. He had something else up his sleeve, but he’d been holding onto it.
“I can call Howard Billings at Motorways. He told me a couple of years ago if we ever wanted out that he’d be interested.”
Mac scowled. “Billings doesn’t have the kind of money that Gerhardt has. We’d be giving him the company.”
“It’s been years, Mac. We have no idea if the company can handle the buy. It won’t hurt to ask.” But Quinn was almost certain his brother was right. He sat back in his seat. There had to be a way to make things work with George Brant. “Hank, what if I call Brant? Talk to him about—”
“No.” The word shot out of Hank’s mouth like a cannonball. “Don’t say a word to him about me. I hate hearing his name as much as he hates hearing mine. Do yourself a favor and don’t mention it.” Hank scrubbed a hand down his face. “Look, do what you have to do, Quinn. It’s your company.” He gathered his things and stood up. “I’ve been with FRD since your dad brought me on and I think of the place as home.”
He shrugged. “I can’t imagine working somewhere else, but I’ll roll with the punches.” Hank shook his head, looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he went to the door. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have come all this way, but I thought I could help. I thought since I’d been with the company so long that…” He shook his head again and sighed. “Never mind. I’m going to hop on the next flight back to London. Giselle told me Gerhardt was supposed to leave this afternoon for a meeting at his office, so it’s not like I need to be here to keep track of him anymore. Let me know what you decide.” Hank opened the door and went down the steps.
“Nice,” Mac said. “You’re so fucking worried about all the employees, but you’re letting our best guy sink if you sell to Brant. Nice.” Mac left Quinn sitting at the table by himself.
“It’s not like Hank doesn’t have a pot to piss in,” Quinn said at his back. “He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to. We’ve taken care of him since day one.”
Mac leveled him with a hard stare over his shoulder.
Shit.
He’d spent the morning putting the cars into place. Three nondescript cars in three unobtrusive places across the city. Each near one of the locales Reynolds most frequented. This was why the company should be his. He was ready for anything. Always would be. He could take any situation and turn it around to his advantage. It’s what a leader did. Whether he used any of those cars or not, didn’t matter. The fact was he had a plan…sketchy at the moment, but still there.
Reynolds and the blonde were joined at the hip so anything he did had a high percentage of being a twofer. That suited him fine.
Of course, this new development was even better. The idea of Reynolds driving for the first time since the accident…and crashing… Actually, the next
accident
would be far more fitting. He smiled, knowing the panic Reynolds would suffer before he died. Just what the man deserved.
He considered Reynolds’s death the final hurdle in amassing the power he craved.
He had a whole night to play with the car too. Plenty of time to rig it the way he wanted. Too bad he wouldn’t be there to see the destruction himself. But with Reynolds out of the way, the company would be in good hands. He’d make sure of it.
Quinn paced his hotel room. Talking to Mac and Hank had set him on the edge. Despite what Hank told him about Brant, Quinn had called the man anyway. But it was Friday night and who knew when Brant would get the message. If Quinn greased the wheels with Brant and convinced him to keep Hank then he was halfway home. All he really needed to do was figure a way to bring the two of them together. Mac trusted Hank so much that if Hank didn’t have a problem working for Brant, Quinn would be that much closer to selling. So he paced and he seethed. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting to talk to George Brant.
He missed Ellie. He worried about her too. What was she doing now? How was she coping? Was she as lonely as he was? Sitting on the bed, he clicked on the television and surfed a few channels before shutting it off. He paced across the room, ready to jump out of his skin and he didn’t know why. He fished out his phone and called Fido. “You feel up for a drive?”
“Anytime. Where’re we headed?”
“I don’t know. I’ll let you decide. I need to get out of this room. I’m going stir-crazy.”
“If I can make one suggestion…”
Quinn didn’t mind suggestions. It was orders he hated. “Sure. What?”
“Pack a small bag.”
Pack a bag? Where did Fido plan on taking him? Did he care? Obviously the man knew money wasn’t an object. What the hell. He’d pack a few things. Fresh clothes, a razor, a toothbrush couldn’t hurt. He sure could’ve used those things this morning.