More Than Anything (Broken Pieces #1)(23)
“It seems like a lot to expect from a total stranger,” Tina said, allowing her skepticism to creep into her voice.
“I don’t know about you, but after five minutes with those sisters, I felt like I’d known them for years.”
Of course she did. That’s how Libby was: she took everybody at face value and liked and trusted them until they gave her reason not to. For the most part, her instincts were spot on. After those grim high school years when she and Tina had been each other’s only friends, Libby had blossomed into something of a social butterfly. She was well liked by most people. People who weren’t snobs or assholes who judged her because her parents were honest and hardworking.
“Yeah, they’re pretty nice,” Tina said cautiously—she tended to reserve judgment. They had all seemed quite genuinely warm, but Tina didn’t make friends easily. She tended to keep people at a distance until she knew them well enough to decide if she could trust them. And more often than not, her decision went against trusting them. As a result, she didn’t have many friends.
“More than nice,” Libby insisted, and Tina nodded to appease the woman she considered her only true friend.
“Come on, let’s go home and get to bed. We have another long day tomorrow,” Libby said, and Tina nodded again. She powered down her laptop and tucked it under her arm. She dreaded it, but she knew she would have to look at those numbers tonight.
Tina did a quick walk around the restaurant before locking up for the night. The staff had done an amazing job of cleaning up and resetting for tomorrow’s brunch-into-lunch service. The place was absolutely beautiful, and Tina had received a slew of compliments about the new decor tonight. It had boosted her pride in her achievements.
She traced a loving finger over the surface of one of the gleaming round wooden tables before turning to where Libby was waiting by the front door.
After another futile attempt to persuade Libby to stay with her until her friend’s home renovations were complete, she bade the other woman good night, and once they were both safely in their cars, which they had parked a few meters down the road from the restaurant, they headed off in opposite directions.
Chapter Four
It was a short drive through the quiet streets before she reached her quaint little rented place. She sat—her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel—in the warm, dark interior of her car, allowing the silence and peace of the moment to wash over her. She was reluctant to go into her flat. She hadn’t unpacked much yet, and, with the exception of a few items of clothing, most of her personal things were still in boxes. The place was chaotic and not conducive to relaxation.
She dropped her forehead to the steering wheel—between her hands—and sighed. Her head was starting to pound, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could get to the accounts tonight. Perhaps she could give them a miss. It wasn’t entirely responsible, but right now ignorance was the option she preferred. Never mind the pervasive dread that not knowing created.
A sharp rap on the driver’s window made her shriek in fright, and her head snapped up and whipped around to stare out at what she was sure would be a masked thug with a gun. She blinked repeatedly when the image that met her eyes didn’t at all gel with expectation. How strange—her headaches had never resulted in hallucinations before.
The man standing beside her car made an impatient circular gesture with his hand, obviously wanting her to lower her window, but she could do nothing but stare at him blankly.
“Tina!” The muffled sound of his voice through the glass snapped her out of her weird funk, and she jumped before depressing the button to open the window.
“Harris?” She could hear the disbelief in her voice. There was no reason on earth for him to be here right now. What the hell was going on? “How did you get in here?”
Perhaps that was not the most relevant of questions, but it was the only one that came to mind. She lived in a house that had been split down the middle to make two flats. The house had one access gate, and because the place next door was unoccupied, Tina was the only one—aside from the landlord—with access to the property.
“The landlord gave me a remote control.”
“Why are you here?” That was more like it: relevant and concise. Feeling a bit discombobulated by the exchange, she opened the car door and stepped out, hoping that standing up would make her feel less disadvantaged. A mistaken belief, as it turned out, since he towered over her as always. She should have known better.
“I came with Greyson. He’s here for Libby. I wanted to make certain he didn’t say or do anything stupid.”
“Where is he now?” She had so many other questions, but that one seemed the most pressing right now.
“Waiting for her. At her house.”
“Waiting to ambush her, you mean?” Kind of what Harris had just done to Tina. “And you’re here? You’re failing at your self-appointed task already.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets before shrugging uncomfortably.
“I thought I’d let them have privacy for this first meeting.”
“He shouldn’t have come. Libby isn’t going to be happy about this, and she definitely won’t want to hear anything he has to say.”
“I know that.”
“Why are you here, Harris?”