SASSY IN STILETTOS ARe version (11 page)

She sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ve been looking for my birth
mother.” Once the words were out of her mouth, Micha felt like she’d released a
weight.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jaya asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wanted to deal with
it myself. I know you guys would have been supportive, but it felt like
something I needed to deal with myself.”

Ricca met her gaze. “I know, but we’re family.
Your pain is our pain. Maybe we could have helped.”

“There’s nothing you guys could do. I’ve been
trying for years, but the records are sealed, and she’s the only one who can
unseal them. She keeps turning me down.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, babe. Are you going to keep
trying?” Jaya asked.

“You know, every time I get a notice that she says
no, I think I’m done, but like an idiot, I petition again. I only want to know
her. Know where I’m from.” Not live in fear that she was going to die all alone
with no one out there loving her.

“Alec has a lot of resources. I can have him look
into it.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. But no. I’m still raw
from this jellyfish rejection. It’ll take me a little before I wade back into
the water.”

“If you change your mind…”

Micha nodded her thanks. “Enough with my
depressing shit. How about I say, I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch, and we go
get frozen yogurt? It’s my cheat day from marathon training so I want to do it
right. Who’s down for Golden Spoon?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Jaya said. “But
I need to head back after that.”

Ricca yawned. “Yeah, me too.”

A pang of pain sliced at Micha’s heart. There used
to be a time when getting the two of them out of her place had been a battle. Many
a night they’d crash at hers, confident she would wake them when she woke up
for her five am runs. And she had. Not any more though. Now they were both
totally loved up, so not in any rush to spend the night.

Hell, who could blame them? She’d seen their
dudes. She’d rush home too. And she was happy for them. They deserved true
love. They’d both been kicked around enough. Still, she felt the pang of
jealousy with a pinch of ‘what about me?’ She quickly squelched that thought. It
was an easy pathway to doing some things she’d regret.

After a quick frozen yogurt run at Golden Spoon,
the three of them walked back to Jaya’s car. On the way, they passed the
entrance to Micha’s garage, and Micha froze. Her normally cheery, cherry red
mini cooper had been covered in spray paint and graffiti. “What the fuck?” No. No
no no. Not the car. She loved this car. She’d driven an old beater for years,
saving up to buy this thing, and now someone had defiled it. Her eyes pricked
with unshed tears, which she quickly blinked away.

“Oh, shit,” said Ricca.

Jaya was already on the phone with the police,
rattling off Micha’s license plate number and the address. When she hung up,
she came over and rubbed Micha’s back. “You’ll have to go in and file a report
in the morning, but I convinced them to come to you at your office tomorrow.
Okay?”

Micha nodded. Someone was doing their best to
scare the shit out of her, and it was starting to work.

***

With a crick in his neck, Caleb pulled his BMW
into his parking spot. After being relieved by one of his guys for the night shift
on a Swedish heiress, he could have used a drink, but he’d declined when Alec
had called asking for one. He’d rather get home and pass out.

Hell, who knew following a spoiled heiress around
could be so exhausting? If he never saw another woman’s clothing store again it
would be far too soon. Normally, he didn’t have to do details or body guard
service. He had enough men to manage it, but three of his guys were pulled for
ambassador duty in Los Angeles, and he had another on a plane playing
babysitter to a spoiled preteen on his spring break. Now why the hell hadn’t he
taken spring break duty over shopping?

With leaden feet, he trudged to the elevator,
dreaming of grabbing a beer and maybe catching a glimpse of Micha before she went
to bed. Jesus, he had to get a life.  It’s not like he didn’t have shit to do
or think about. He wanted to check on Carlotta at the safe house, and he still
had a mountain of paperwork to do. Not to mention, Adele had tapped him for
security upgrades on the new wing of the hotel.

He still hadn’t had any word from Sabine, but if
Caleb knew her well, she wouldn’t stay quiet for long. She’d either call or
show up with some kind of bombshell planned for him. He knew her. It was simply
how she operated. It was sneaky and devious and why he’d left the intelligence
world. He’d posted a man on Carlotta too, which meant he didn’t have enough
guys to have one follow Sabine, though he’d wanted to. His team of twenty was too
thin to support all the work he had going. He’d have to start hiring. Lucky for
him, San Diego wasn’t short on ex-military. But he was picky and only wanted
the best.

On the way to the elevator, he did a cursory check
for Micha’s car and cursed. He wheeled around, drawing his gun, and stalked
over to her car. His heart thundered. Sweat popped on his brow. His training
kicked in, and he surveyed the damage. Mostly paint, a couples of scratches,
nothing major. And no Micha. So that meant she’d been able to drive it here at
least.  Relief flooded him. He wasn’t sure what to anticipate, but he half expected
to see her slumped in the driver’s seat.

He frowned as he examined the interior. No damage.
The exterior looked like street graffiti, but it worried him. She’d also received
the anonymous flowers last week. Could this be from the same person that sent
her flowers? She hadn’t seemed alarmed about them, but maybe she was getting
some unwanted attention.

Or maybe she parked in the wrong part of town. But
that didn’t seem likely. The car was
covered
in
graffiti. The form of the vandalism made it look like street thugs having some
fun, but the sheer amount of it looked personal. Like whoever did it wanted to
make sure to really mar the car’s paint job. It looked like overkill. Like
there was a lot of hatred and emotion behind the act.

Satisfied Micha wasn’t in the car and that there
was no perp, Caleb holstered his gun and jogged to the stairs. He took them two
at a time until he hit the fourth floor. Wasting no time, he ran to her unit
and knocked.

From inside, there was rustling, and he said a
quick silent prayer that he’d find her unhurt. “Micha? Open the door. It’s
Caleb.”

“I hear you, keep your pants on, would you?”

Funny, she’d sung a different tune Sunday night. “Open
the door, Micha.”

When she swung the door open, her hair hung in wet
hanks down her back, and she was dressed in sweats. “Are you all right?”

She nodded but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Yeah,
I’m fine. I was in the shower.”

“I saw your car.”

“Yeah, me too. It was fine when I parked it, but came
back from grabbing fro-yo and someone had left me a present.”

So the damage had been done in their garage? He’d
have to talk to the building manager and get a look at the security tapes. “Any
idea who did this?”

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “Caleb, I
appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. I’m dealing with it. Already called the
cops, and they’ll get my statement in the morning at the office. I don’t need
your help.”

“You mean you didn’t file a report tonight? Why
the hell not?” He made no attempt to keep his voice below a bellow.

“No, and I can’t deal with it right now. I’m
exhausted. I’ll do it in the morning.”

“Micha, you realize this means someone targeted
your car specifically. None of the other cars around yours were vandalized. We
can’t wait to deal with this.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and rolled her
lips inward. “Caleb, I’m a very short fuse right now. I can’t deal with you
pushing. All I want to do is climb into bed and sleep for a month. Just once,
can we do things my way?”

He studied her again. Her eyes were rimmed red,
and she looked like she’d been up for days. What wasn’t she telling him? “Micha,
I’m here to help. I want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“And like I said, I don’t need your help. I’m fine
on my own.”

Micha’s alarm clock screeched. Aiming for her
bedside table, she reached to turn it off, but couldn’t find it. Popping her
head out from beneath the covers, she cursed. Every morning without fail, she
forgot she’d moved it over to the dresser so she wouldn’t be tempted to snooze
her way out of a run. “Of all the idiotic things.” Tossing off the cover, she
sat up and immediately regretted the decision.

To say it felt like someone had taken a
sledgehammer to her head was an understatement. She’d taken a sleeping pill
last night after the car fiasco. But that had done nothing for the migraine she
felt coming on.

As she went about with her morning routine,
running socks, shorts, industrial strength sports bra, she tried to remember
what in the world had made her sign up for a marathon.
Because
you love to run. Now get your ass in gear.
She slipped on her shoes and
headed down to the gym on the first floor.

She knew better than to attempt a run outside. Even
she wasn’t that reckless. Though Caleb no doubt thought she was. He’d been so
pissed last night. He was probably angrier after she’d slammed the door in his
face. She winced at the memory. Maybe that was overkill. But in her defense,
she’d been nursing the mother of all migraines, and he’d been in the mood for a
lecture. And, well, it wasn’t really his business. But between the car, the
flowers, and the rat, she had trouble. Now she had to figure out what to do
about it. The cops would dig everything up about her past if she went to them,
and it would become common knowledge. But better her past be known than she
meet her maker, even if it was in a pair of killer heels.

Today was not a good day for running. Every mile,
every step, every breath was a chore. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. With every
leaden stomp, her muscles threatened to cramp. Oh hell, who was she kidding? She
felt like ass.

She hit the stop button and jumped off while the
treadmill was still moving. She’d only gone six miles. Nowhere near the eleven
she needed for this training day. She’d have to make it up later today.

By the time she was ready and into work, her head
was clearer, but her mood was just as sour. Seeing her car was enough to put
her in a yelling mood. When she figured out who was behind the vandalism, they’d
find themselves making nice with the sole of her stilettos before being thrown
into a very large ditch with a mountain of dirt piled on top of them—if Jaya
and Ricca didn’t beat her to it first. Though Ricca was kind of soft and might
insist on jail before death. Micha liked the ditch idea much better.

When she walked in, Ryan was standing by his desk
waiting for her. She mustered a smile. “Wow standing at the ready. How
Devil Wears Prada
of you. I can be your barracuda boss, if
you want. Could you do me a favor and call the police? Ask for Sargent Romero. See
if they can come on over now instead of later. I need to file a police report.”

“Uhm, Miss Bennett—”

“Micha. I told you to call me Micha.” She didn’t
pause in her stride. All she wanted to do was get into her office and sit down.”

“M-Micha, they’re already here.”

“Say what?” She stopped so abruptly her Louboutins
snagged on the carpet, pitching her backward onto her ass. She landed with a
soft thud, spilling the contents of her Kate Spade satchel purse.

Ryan sprang into action, collecting her things and
helping her up. “Uhm there’s one more thing,” he said in a hushed whisper.

“Can it wait, Ryan? I need to make two calls.”

“But—”

Micha strode into her office then wrenched to a
halt as her chair swiveled around. Her heart seized, and she stared at the
too-handsome-for-his-own-good blond man in her chair.
Oh.
Fuck. Me
.

Simon Jax
. Though now,
most of the world knew him as Jax, movie star extraordinaire. The edges of her
peripheral vision grayed. She fought the panic by taking three deep breaths. She
could do this. How hard could it be?
Open your mouth and
speak.
What the fuck was he doing here?

“It seems like you’re lost,” she muttered.

Slowly he shook his head, a slight smile tugging
at his lips. “Nope. I’m right where I want to be.”

“How the hell did you even get in here?” That
sounded a little combative. “I mean, what are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t want to see you?”

“Not after six years you can’t. Not after the way
everything ended you can’t. Certainly not after what your wife did to me you
can’t.”

He winced, then stood up smoothly. “Micha. I’m so
sorry about everything that happened with Trisha. I never got the opportunity
to speak to you then.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, well.
I wasn’t really in the mood for visitors.”

He took two steps toward her. “Micha, I—”

She put up a hand to halt him. “I should probably
warn you that I’m packing. So if you want to keep that pretty face looking
pretty, it would be in your interest to back the fuck away from me and get the
hell out of my office.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, but made no
move to leave. “You have every right to be pissed off. And I didn’t make enough
of an effort back then. I can’t walk back into your life and expect that you
want to see me.”

She didn’t have time for this. She needed to sit
down. She needed to chase off the sense of panic. What she didn’t need was the ex
of Christmas past standing in her office, dredging up old shit. “Jax, I’m
exhausted and have a shit ton of work to do. What do you want? What are you
doing here? At SDM, in my office.”