Cold Dark Heart by Julie Kriss

Eight

Damon

When we got backto the car, I held out my hand and said, “Give me the keys. I’ll drive.”

“Why?” Andie glared at me, a red flush of anger on her cheekbones. “You know what? I think I’ve had enough of men and their idiotic attitudes today. What a load of bullshit. You think you should drive just because you have a dick? Get over yourself.”

Well. She was sexy when she was mad, but I kept that thought to myself. “I’m offering to drive because I can hear your cell phone going off nonstop in your purse. You probably need to answer some calls and emails.”

She pressed her lips together, her skin still flushed. In the silence, the phone in her purse buzzed again, loudly.

I raised my eyebrows. “Come on,” I offered. “My dick and I will drive you back to Salt Springs.”

She hesitated again, then slapped her keys into my hand. “I hate men.”

I shook my head. “Baby, after that meeting in there, I don’t blame you one bit.”

We got in the car. I put on my sunglasses, started the car, and got us the hell out of that depressing parking lot.

Andie pulled her phone from her purse and started scrolling through the messages and emails coming in. After she’d typed a few responses and we were back on the freeway, she lowered the phone and said, “So I wasn’t hallucinating, right? That was bad back there.”

She seemed to need to hear it, so I didn’t mince words. “That guy was a piece of shit.”

She sagged against her seat, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “What was he doing, though? Did he think he was coming on to me?”

“If I wasn’t there, he would absolutely have asked you out,” I said.

“Terry was his friend. I’m Terry’s ex. He left two weeks ago.” She seemed incredulous.

“You’re a hot, single woman, so you’re fair game,” I said. “That’s how guys like that think. You have more vendor meetings set up?”

Andie blinked at me. “What? Yes. I have a meeting every afternoon this week.”

“Fine. After meeting that guy, I’ve made a decision. I’m coming with you to every one.”

Now she was getting mad again. “What for? To preserve my virtue? If one of these guys asks me out, I’m perfectly capable of saying no.”

I noticed that she didn’t even entertain the idea, and I approved. “It isn’t to protect your virtue,” I explained. “Aside from his chauvinist bullshit, something stunk about that guy. The business might be legit, but there’s no way he’s completely on the up-and-up. I spent too many years dealing with guys like that, and I’ve seen it too many times. Something’s rotten.”

“Rotten how?” she asked. “The invoice thing is definitely weird. But what do you mean?”

“Well, for a light starter course, probably tax evasion,” I said.

“Oh, God. The IRS?” Andie put a hand over her eyes. “The last thing I need is the IRS.”

“That’s one of the simpler possibilities,” I said. “I haven’t even gotten to the bad stuff yet.”

“Don’t tell me. Just don’t.”

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I was jonesing for a cigarette. I’d smoked on and off since I was a teen, but it had gotten bad in the last six months. Something about getting shot made a guy revert to his bad habits, especially when he’s recovering without opiate painkillers. I’d told myself that cigarettes were the lesser of two evils.

But Andie had told me to stop, and for some crazy reason, I had agreed. I was already getting jittery. It didn’t help that with every day that passed I had more suspicion that something was very wrong, and that something had to do with Terry.

I had the feeling that Andie was in trouble. I just didn’t know what kind.

Sure, it was a cliché. She was a gorgeous, sexy woman who needed my help, a damsel in distress. I’d come for this job for something to do, and now I could do a white knight act if I wanted—except for the fact that Andie didn’t particularly want me around. She didn’t even seem to like me. Hell, no one liked me. My own brother hadn’t spoken to me for thirteen years, and neither had his fiancée. I didn’t blame either of them. For most of my life so far, my biggest talent had been for making mistakes.

Staying in this job instead of getting the hell out of Salt Springs—and getting away from whatever trouble this was—was probably another mistake.

Andie had gone back to her phone, texting and replying to emails. Then she gave a heavy sigh and called someone.

“Where are you?” she asked when the other person answered. “What do you mean, last period was cancelled at school? Why?”

So it was her son, then. She hadn’t told me anything about him, except that he existed. He was Terry’s son, who Terry had abandoned when he left town. Poor kid. I didn’t know how old he was, but he was obviously old enough to have a cell phone.

“You’re going to Jonathan’s house?” Andie said into the phone. “I suppose that’s okay. How many other kids are going there? Are his parents home? Text me the address in case I need it.” Some type of groaning on the other end. “Yes, Miles, you have to. Are you going to eat dinner there? What kind of takeout? Try to eat something healthy. Remember you’re allergic to seafood.”

She went on in this vein for a while. When she finally ended the call, I said, “Teenager?”

“Thirteen.” Her voice was tense.

I glanced at her. Her gaze was fixed on the road ahead, and I could see her perfect profile. Dark eyes, those dark curls of hair, perfect skin that had no need for makeup. She really was a gorgeous woman. Terry was insane.

“He’s probably fine,” I said, trying to relax her. “He just wants to hang out with his friends. I did that a lot at that age.” I left out the part about how I also scored weed at thirteen, snuck out of the house at three a.m., and threw empty beer bottles at passing cars, because she didn’t need to hear that. I’d been a particularly bad kid, left to go wild. My dad had hit me and my mom didn’t care, so I’d acted out.

“I worry,” Andie said, the words coming out like a reluctant admission.

“Why?”

She shook her head, as if she wanted to drop the subject, even though she’d brought it up. “It’ll blow over. He’s unhappy and confused because Terry left. He has to, I don’t know, work through it.” She looked at me. “You don’t have kids?”

I laughed. “Considering what a lousy father figure I’d be, that’s for the best for everyone.”

“You couldn’t be much worse than Terry. His only method of parenting was to let me do the disciplining so that he could always be the good guy—until he left with his new girlfriend. Did you know he’s only talked to Miles on the phone once since he left?” The words seemed to come in a wave, as if now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop them. “I know it affects Miles, but he won’t talk to me. Sometimes I think I should get him to see a child therapist, even though money is tight. Then I think it’s only been two weeks, and maybe Miles just needs time to process the change. Maybe he doesn’t need me micromanaging him? Is there something I should be doing, or not doing? I can’t be home for him all the time because I have to run the Wild. I don’t know if that means Miles is mad at me, too.”

There was quiet. She seemed to be at the end of her outpouring of words. I knew nothing about how to handle any of this, so I cleared my throat. “Um, it sounds like raising a kid is pretty hard.”

She laughed at my simplistic assessment of the situation. “Sorry I dumped all of that on you.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“A little, yes.”

We were entering Salt Springs again. We would park at the Wild, and she’d take her car home. It’d get in my own car and go home, leave Andie English and her problems behind. I’d go back to the simple life of the single guy. Andie and Miles were none of my business.

Just like I liked it.

No ties. No complications.

I really, really wanted a cigarette.