Need You Tonight (7 page)

“Okay, so maybe
you
don’t.”

“And that b-b-bothers the shit out of you.”

She quickened her step, trying to keep up with his long, easy strides. “It does not.”

But it totally did. It was suddenly driving her crazy. Why didn’t he like her? She’d
never personally done anything mean to him. She couldn’t be held responsible for Doug
and his friends.

Kaden stopped next to a beat-up Dodge Challenger and turned to her. “I live over on
Dunlop Road. You can follow me. At a reasonable distance, of course, so no one links
us t-t-together.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine.”

She turned on her heel to stalk to her car, but he called her name before she could
take a step. She looked back to find him leaning against the top of his car, staring
out toward the football field instead of turning in her direction.

“It’s totally bothering you, isn’t it?”

She groaned. “Shut up. Point taken.”

He smiled but there was no humor in it. He opened his door to climb into his car,
but before he closed it, his eyes met hers. “Don’t worry, princess. Your record is
still perfect. My problem isn’t that I don’t like you. It’s that I like you too much.”

And with that, he slammed his door and shut her out.

SIX

Tessa cupped her hand over the mouthpiece of her phone, hoping no one in the office
would hear her conversation. “Doug, I better have read this email wrong.”

Her ex-husband made a dismissive grunt. “Having trouble reading now? Maybe I should’ve
used smaller words.”

Fucking bastard.
Tessa gripped her phone, trying to keep her seething response from slipping out.
Last thing she needed was for her current boss to send a complaint to the temp agency
for an unhinged receptionist yelling at her ex-husband in front of the whole office.
“Look, I get that we hate each other. Whatever. But are you really so heartless that
you’ll let innocent kids suffer just to get back at me?”

He sniffed. “Always so dramatic. This is merely a business decision and nothing else.
That charity was your pet project, not mine, and it’s a cash sieve.”

“It’s called nonprofit for a reason, Doug.”
Jackass.

“If it’s such a worthy cause, you should be able to find other donors. I’m done keeping
it afloat with my church’s money. I told the congregation to pick a new charity to
focus on this year.”

“Doug, please, don’t do this.” She hated the plea in her voice, but all she could
think about were the kids at Bluebonnet Place who would lose services and the employees
who’d lose their jobs. She’d started the project five years ago when Doug had told
her she should get more involved in his church’s outreach activities to look good
to the congregation. She’d had no desire to put on more of a show at church than she
already did, so she’d asked for seed money to start a charity instead. Looking back
over her years with Doug, it was the one thing she could be proud of. Even though
it was her ex’s money that had funded it, she’d poured her guts into the project,
determined to help foster kids who were aging out of the system. She was all too familiar
with how it felt to be staring down eighteen with no family behind you, few job skills,
and limited funds to better your education.

But now the whole thing was going to be drained dry and abandoned if the cash wasn’t
there to support it. After the divorce, she’d given the lion’s share of her divorce
settlement money to Bluebonnet. God knows she’d had no desire to live off Doug’s handouts
for another second and wanted to put them to good use. But even with that donation,
she knew the charity only had enough cash to make it to the end of the year.

“Tessa, if you had thought this through better, you wouldn’t have left me in the first
place and wouldn’t have to worry about this, so don’t try to lay some guilt trip on
me. This is your doing. Your decision.”

She ran a hand through her hair, gripping a few strands tight against her scalp, trying
to keep her composure while her mind was screaming,
You self-centered piece of shit. You cheated! You! I didn’t do this.

“Doug, you know I’m not going to be able to get this much money in time to keep it
going. Can’t you wait to pull funding in six months? We can make a big to-do of how
you’re contributing despite our differences and give you all the credit. The press
will love it.” She loathed her supplicating tone but knew that’s what got him off—beating
her down and winning.

He snorted. “The
press
? You mean the same press you spilled lies to after the divorce? You know how much
of my congregation I’ve lost because of the shit you spread about me? I’m still repairing
that damage.”

“I only told them the truth. I can’t help how they relayed it. And I had to do something
after you put rumors out there that I was some pill-popping tramp who strayed on you.”

“Right. Because you were an angel. Gabriel was just lying about you meeting him mornings
in the guest house. I should’ve known then and let you have someone on the side to
degrade yourself with. You always did like to slum it.”

Her nails dug into her palm. That story again. She knew damn well Doug had either
paid her former personal trainer money or blackmailed him to go to the press and fabricate
some story about her. It had to have been something big because before that, Gabriel
had been a friend to her, keeping her company and making her laugh during those often
lonely days. The guy was probably going to graduate school on a full ride now, courtesy
of her ex-husband.

“Good-bye, Doug.”

“Hold on,” he said, right as she was about to pull the phone from her ear. “I do have
one way I
may
consider giving you the funds you need.”

Her gut knotted at his tone, but she forced herself to stay on the phone. She knew
whatever he was going to propose would be something she didn’t like, but she was willing
to do a lot to keep those kids at Bluebonnet from losing funding. “And what’s that?”

She could almost feel his viper grin over the phone. “I would need you to
beg
, darling. Get on those pretty knees and tell me how you can’t get through without
me. That I was right. Then, you’d need to go to the press, admit to your affair with
Gabriel and your emotional problems, and tell them that I was a good husband who took
care of you.”

Her lunch almost came up at the image, the bitter taste burning the back of her throat.
“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that as you considering the option. Try it your way first if
you’d like. I’m sure raising a few hundred grand on your own between those dead-end
jobs you’re doing will be easy as pie. You know where to find me when that flops.”

The dial tone buzzed in her ear—harsh and final. Round three thousand and four to
the snake. It seemed like every time she went to battle with Doug, he ended up with
the last word and the smile. She hung up the phone and rubbed a hand over her face,
all the starch draining out of her.

“Everything okay, Vanessa?”

She looked up. It was on the tip of her tongue to correct the guy on her name, but
frankly, she didn’t remember his either. She’d gone on so many assignments for the
temp agency in the past few months that they were all starting to blend together.
“I’m fine. What can I help you with?”

He dropped a small voice recorder on her desk. “I’ve dictated a report that I’d like
you to type up for me. I’ll need it before I leave today.”

“Sure. I’ll get right to it,” she said with practiced enthusiasm even though she’d
never typed from dictation before.

After a quick nod, he strode off and she tucked the earbuds into her ears without
hitting Play. The office hummed around her as she sat there at her borrowed desk,
watching people moving back and forth with their tasks, chatting with co-workers and
catching up from the weekend. No one had asked her how her weekend had been. No one
cared. She was a stranger. No one knew that she’d had the best sex of her life on
Friday night and had passed out from a fire. No one knew that she’d slipped out of
the hospital before Van could get there because she couldn’t trust herself to turn
him down. No one knew that her ex-husband had just ripped one final rug out from under
her. And no one knew that the fate of an entire charity and at least a hundred kids
was now resting on her very unqualified shoulders.

She was simply the temp filling in for a beloved co-worker who was on maternity leave.

Part of her relished the anonymity of it. She’d hated the spotlight she’d been under
in her marriage as the TV pastor’s wife. But sometimes she couldn’t help feeling the
loneliness of it now. Besides Sam, she had no one here. No roots. No friends. Not
even co-workers she could get to know. She’d hoped to find a more permanent job by
now, but the market was tough for entry-level positions and though she was taking
night classes, she didn’t have the fancy experience to put on a resume yet.

Hell, maybe she should’ve just stayed with Doug. They could’ve lived their separate
lives in the same house and pretended to still be together in public. She’d known
couples who’d done that. She could’ve put all her effort into charity work and not
had to worry about if she’d have enough money for the gas bill or if that noise outside
at night was some criminal in her not-so-desirable neighborhood trying to break in.

But then she’d have to look at Doug’s smug face every day.
I told you so. I told you that you couldn’t survive on your own.

Screw that.
She shook her head, disgusted that’d she’d even entertained the thought. Another
day in that house with Doug and she’d probably be sitting in a jail for attempted
murder. Her life now may not be posh or flashy, but at least she could wake up every
day knowing that everything she had was hers and hers alone. No one was paying her
way. No one owned her.

She’d figure out some way to help her charity. Even if it meant she’d have to go door-to-door
to ask for donations. She would not fail those kids. And she’d be damned if she’d
give her ex-husband the satisfaction of seeing her beg.

With renewed resolve, she turned toward her computer, hit the Play button on the voice
recorder, and started typing.

“You know, I’m not some crazed stalker,” Kade said, tucking his hands in the pockets
of his slacks and trying to look as harmless as possible.

Sam, the raven-haired girl he’d given Tessa’s keys to on Friday night leaned against
the doorway and arched her pierced brow. “Which is exactly what a crazed stalker would
say.”

He smirked. “Good point. Can you at least tell me how I can get in touch with Tessa?”

“How did you even find me, stalker guy?” she asked, a glint in her eyes.

He could tell she was enjoying torturing him and not truly threatened by his unexpected
visit. Somehow he doubted this girl was afraid of much. She was cute as a pixie but
he sensed she was all scrappy badass beneath that sweet smile. He pulled a piece of
paper from his pocket. “Your name and address were on the event list.”

“You stole private documents? Now you’re admitting to your criminal behavior. That
is the first step to recovery.”

Damn, maybe this girl was a dominatrix on the side because she wasn’t giving him an
inch. “Look, Sam, I know you’re going to be loyal and protective of your friend. I
respect that. But after the fire, they took Tessa to the hospital, and I got held
up by the police. By the time I got there, she was gone. I’d like to make sure that
she’s okay. And when the fire broke out, we were in the middle of a conversation I’d
like to finish.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I’ve got a feeling what kind of conversation you’re talking about.
But listen, she’s fine. No permanent damage from the fire. And as for the other thing,
she left before talking to you for a reason. She’s not looking to start up something
with anyone. You were just a checkbox on her list, a one-time thing. Be glad. Isn’t
that every guy’s dream? No strings or obligation to call the next day.”

He started to respond to the question but then his mind snagged on the other part.
“Wait, what do you mean, I was a checkbox on her list?”

She groaned and put her hand to the door, swinging it toward him. “Good-bye, stalker
guy.”

“Sam—” But the door was already clicking shut.

Fuck
.

Sam wasn’t going to budge. Plan B time. He headed down the hallway of the apartment
building and pulled his phone from his pocket. As usual, his assistant, Maile, answered
on the first ring. “What’s up, boss?”

“Are you at your desk?”

“Chained to it, as always. I work for a slave driver, you know.”

He snorted. “My sympathies. Whatever you’re working on right now, put it on the side.
I need you to dig up as much information as you can find on a woman named Tessa McAllen,
birthdate October third, same year as me.”

How he still remembered Tessa’s birthday was a wonder, but it was there, seared on
his brain like some permanent brand.

“What is this regarding? Is she a new business contact?” Maile asked, slipping into
professional mode.

“No, this is a personal matter. Any information you find should remain confidential.”

There was a pause on the other line. “Wait, is this about the fire? The police were
here this afternoon, looking to talk to you again. Boss, no offense, but you shouldn’t
be doing your own investigating. If someone—”

“This isn’t about that.” Not directly at least. A detective had called him earlier
today to inform him that they now suspected arson instead of an accidental fire. Kade
knew they’d be searching for Tessa to get a statement, and he’d at least like to warn
her before she got dragged into it. But, of course, if he said he was only seeking
her out for that reason, he’d be a damn liar. “I need this information ASAP. I’ll
be back in the office this afternoon.”

“You got it,” Maile said, hanging up without a good-bye. He loved that the woman was
pure, no-frills efficiency. He had no doubt she was already on task before the phone
settled in its cradle. He’d probably know when Tessa’s first baby tooth fell out by
the end of the day.

And sure enough, a few hours later, Kade was sitting at his desk with a pile of printed
documents in front of him. Maile pointed at the stack, indicating the colored sticky
tabs she’d added to certain pages. “I labeled basic stats with green. But the gist
is she doesn’t live far from here, has been working for a temp agency, and has no
family in the area. Also, no criminal record.”

“Okay.”

“Work history’s labeled with blue. Not much info there. Though, she is the founder
of a local charity. Gossip has the yellow tabs. Lots of that available.”

“Gossip?” he asked, glancing up from the top page, which held Tessa’s address and
a newspaper photo of her in a party dress.

Maile pushed her black bob behind her ears and frowned. “Apparently, she was married
to a pastor of one of those big time mega-churches in Atlanta up until a year ago.
Pretty high-profile guy, Sunday sermons were broadcast on regional television, that
kind of thing. The divorce made the society pages since they were a prominent couple
in the area. Looks like things got nasty. Each accused the other of infidelity. She
didn’t say much more than that publicly but the husband had lots to say. He accused
her of being a pill popper, a gold digger, a cheater, and said she shirked her godly
and
wifely
duties . . .”