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Authors: Linda Castillo

Perfect Victim, The (10 page)

BOOK: Perfect Victim, The
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"The sign says you don't close for another ten minutes," he said.

 

Wordlessly, she turned away and left her place behind the bar. At the front door, she turned the sign to the closed po
sition. As
if on cue, the couple finished their cappuccino and started for the door. Calling
t
hem by their first names, Addison bid them good night
.
The man at the bar folded his newspaper and followed. Randall noticed he left a five-dollar tip, and he wondered if Addison Fox affected all men the way she did him.

 

She made a show of fumbling wit
h
the tie of her apron as she slipped back beh
i
nd the bar. "There's a beer joint two doors down
.
Please tell me that in your drunken stupor you've wandered into the wrong place."

 

He had to hand it to her, she definitely knew where to hit a guy. But because he had it coming, he let the comment pass
.
"I guess you're not going to make this easy on me."

 

A delicately arched eyebrow went up
.
"How perceptive of you."

 

He had the sinking feeling that she was just getting warmed up. Even if the conversation they were about to have wasn't going to be pleasant, it would definitely be interesting.

 

"In case you
'
re wondering, I take my coffee black," he said easily
.

 

''To be perfectly honest with you, Mr
.
Talbot, the way you take your coffee is the furthest thing from my mind, unless, of course, you take it in your lap. What I'm really wondering is what the hell you're doing in my shop with that stupid grin on your face when I'm about to close."

 

Randall stared at her
,
not sure if he was insulted, amused, or embarrassed. He did find h
i
mself a bit relieved that there was no one else around to witness the verbal trouncing he was taking from this woman. "Better make it decaf," he said
.

 

Frowning, she snagged a cup from beneath the bar and moved to
-
the coffee brewer
.
He watched as she poured, noticing the jerky movements, the rigid set of her shoulders, and the stubborn set of her chin. Unfortunately, he also noticed that she was one of those women who only looked sexier when they were angry
.
.

 

"Here you go
.
" She set the cup in front of him and looked at her watch. "Decaf
.
Black
.
You have five minutes
.
"

 

Unable to keep himself from it; Randall smiled. "You might want to work on that customer service routine, Ace."

 

She crossed her arms in front of her, inadvertently plumping her breasts. Randall kept his eyes on hers. The last thing he needed to know about Addison Fox was that her breasts were full and upswept. That kind of knowledge was dangerous business for a man who couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a date.

 

"I'm sure I couldn't begin to compete with your unparalleled customer service," she said. "In fact, I don't believe I've ever manhandled any of my customers for stealing sugar packets. Nor have I searched purses for tips when they forgot to leave one. I've certainly never threatened to frisk them."

 

"Yeah, well, the Better Business Bureau is hassling my brother for something I did. But I don't suppose you'd know anything about that, would you?"

 

"You're lucky I didn't have you arrested."

 

"I'm sure that would have been interesting." His gaze skimmed her mouth. "But I don't think either of us would have enjoyed it."

 

''Why are you here?" she asked.

 

Deciding it wouldn't be wise of him to answer the question truthfully, Randall took a deep breath and plunged. "I came here to offer a truce."

 

A frown tugged at the comers of her mouth as she studied him. "You came here to ask me to call off the BBB dogs."

 

''That, too."

 

Her eyes narrowed, and he realized with some dismay that she was enjoying this more than he was. "Surely you can do better than that," she said.

 

"All right." He added tough to the growing list of traits he liked about Addison Fox. She knew better than to trust a man like him. He couldn't blame her. Gazing at her steadily, he folded his hands on the bar in front of him. "I came here to apologize."

 

Something resembling sympathy sparked behind her eyes. ''That didn't hurt so bad, did it?"

 

"No worse than the time I broke my leg skiing
.
"

 

"
You do have an ego, don't you?"

 

"Groveling isn't my style, but whatever works."

 

She regarded him coolly.

 

He was starting to wonder if she was going to let him off the hook
.
"Look, the day you came into my office was an innocent case of mistaken identity—"

 

"There was nothing even remotely innocent about what happened in your office."

 

Even as she said the words
,
her cheeks bloomed with color
,
a fact that told him more about how she felt about that fateful day than anything she might have said.
Bingo,
he thought, and realized with a sense of relief he wasn't the only one who'd been aware that
something
had gone on between them
.

 

Pleased by this new morsel of information, he offered his hand
. "
Apology accepted?
"

 

She ignored the hand. "I'd like my ten dollars back."

 

He'd forgotten about the money. Sending her a look he hoped relayed that he was only going to let her push him so far, he withdrew his wallet and dug out a ten
-
dollar bill. "Do you want interest, too?"

 

She reached for the bill
.
"No."

 

Taking him completely by surprise, she offered her hand. His fingers closed around hers. A pleasant jolt of awareness ran the length of his body on contact
.
Her hand was warm and small encased within his. The palm was slightly damp, but her grip was substantial
.
His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth. Her lips were full and red
and he couldn't help but remember how close he'd come to kissing her that morning in his of
f
ice
.

 

She released his hand, and the spell broke. Momentarily stunned by his reaction, Randall raised the cup to his lips and sipped, wondering if she had any idea how profoundly she'd just affected him
.

 

Lowering his gaze, he spotted the manila folder he'd brought with him, and decided this might be a good time to
see if his intellect still functioned. "You left this in my office."

 

Her eyes flicked to the folder. He didn't miss the spark of recognition. Nor did he miss the quick flash of another emotion he couldn't readily identify. He wondered what secrets she had buried behind those pretty eyes.

 

"Thank you for returning it," she said, pulling the file to her, but not opening it.

 

"If you're interested, that is, if you haven't already hired another firm, Jack and I are willing to take a look at your case." He hadn't planned on saying it; he hadn't even discussed it with his brother, but there it was. Admittedly, he was more interested in getting to know her than he was in her case, but given the circumstances—mainly the way that turtleneck swept over her body—he wasn't holding himself responsible for anything he said.

 

"How much of the file did you read?" she asked.

 

"All of it." Three times to be exact, but he thought it best if he didn't mention it. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

 

Picking up the folder, she strode to the end of the bar and dropped it in the trash. "You couldn't have known, Mr. Talbot, but I've since found who I was looking for."

 

When she turned back to him her eyes were huge and filled with a kind of defiance that contrasted sharply with the vulnerability he discerned just below the surface. He was no judge of people, even less of character, but he knew there was more going on than she wanted him to see.

 

From the notes in the file, he'd been able to deduce that she was searching for her birth parents. Belatedly, he realized the subject could be an emotional one for her. It was an area as foreign to him as the moon. "You were looking for your birth parents," he said.

 

"My birth mother, actually." Her eyes darkened. "I ... located her just a few days ago.”

 

Whoever she'd found, she wasn't happy about it. Randall
let the thought pass. If she needed his
help
,
she'd ask. "I'm glad things worked out for you
,
" he said.

 

Casting a glance at the front door, she crossed her arms in front of her
.
"I
'
m sorry, but I really need to close the shop
.
"

 

Rudeness had always come naturally to him. It pleased him that she had to put forth so much effort to manage it
.
Charmed
,
he winked. "I can take a hint
.
" Pulling out his wallet
,
he laid a five-dollar bill on the bar.

 

 

 
* * *
 

 

 

Addison knew she shouldn’t have let him off the hook so easily
.
Randall Talbot might wear that boy-next-door charm like a
comfortable pair of old jeans, but she knew something darker lay just beneath that steady gaze and crooked smile
.
Still
,
it was difficult to stay angry when he was so clearly sincere. After all, he
had
apologized, she told herself. God only knew what that had done to his ego.

 

At first
,
she'd had no intention of accepting the apology or listening to whatever frail rationalizations he
'
d conjured up. She'd enjoyed watching him struggle with that giant sized ego he wielded so artfully
.
Perhaps even a small, cruel part of her had just wanted to see him cut down a notch or two
.
But he
'
d been determined to make amends
,
and Addison hadn't had the heart to snub him. Even if it had taken him three weeks to work up the courage.

 

His offer to take her case had thrown her
.
The jolt of pain that followed was surprisingly sharp
.
It had been three days since her ill
-
fated trip to Siloam Springs, and she was still trying to accept that Agnes Beckett was dead. As much as she didn't like to think about it
,
a small part of her had died that day in the cemetery. She
'
d lost one of her dreams. Now
,
she couldn't help but wonder if things might have turned out differently if she'd hired this man early on.

BOOK: Perfect Victim, The
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