Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(18)

He snorted and ran his hand through his short, inky black hair. “No way, my hair is staying the way it is. But the stubble, eh, I like it. There’s no agenda. Just keeping the ladies on their toes.”

I smiled and shook my head. “How’s your stomach?”

“Sore, but nothing major. A great nurse patched me up.”

“Good. We need to be extra careful with Oliver. What happened last night was crazy.”

“No kidding.” Vance was getting ready to pass my favorite coffee house. “Want to grab a coffee?”

I’d already reached my caffeine limit for the day. “Nah, I’ve got the shakes from this morning’s cups already. We should just get to Oliver’s so we’re not late. The first street car is heading into the city. Traffic could be a nightmare.”

One of the many developments made to the city was the Cincinnati Street Car System, a multi-million dollar project aimed at improving transportation and city appeal. After years and years of work, the first streetcar was being transported from Northern Ohio to downtown Cincinnati.

“Oh, that’s right. I take it you saw us on the news then?” Vance asked.

“Uh, yeah, I sure did. Couldn’t miss it.”

“Well the two of us plastered all over the news should make Cavanaugh happy. Gotta say, if you’d told me six months ago we’d be side by side fighting a criminal in an article about Oliver and Camille Pierce, I would have called you insane.” Vance merged onto the highway.

“Yeah, me too.” I laughed. “And get this, Gabe called me this morning and didn’t freak out about it.”

Vance looked at me with wide eyes. “Really? That’s huge.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Is he taking you out tonight?”

“No, why?”

“Because he says he’s fine with what happened, but he’s not. He needs to see for himself that you’re okay. So I’m guessing he offered to take you to dinner. You’re a sucker for a good meal.”

“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, he’s not. He’s working late again.” He pulled in air through clenched teeth. “Ugh, don’t start.” I stared out into traffic, breathing off the heaviness still resting on my chest.

“Start what?” He chuckled.

“You know what.” I sighed. “How’s your dad?”

“Good. Should be getting out tomorrow.”

“That’s great. See I knew he’d bounce back.”

“He’s still got a long road ahead of him, and I got into it with Ma last night. I hope she heard me at least. She’s gotta cooperate with doctor’s orders or she’s gonna kill him.”

“She wants your dad back to his old self. I’m sure she’ll do what it takes.”

“I hope so.”

We arrived at Oliver’s building, and after checking in, we were buzzed up. Cici let us in, and we joined her in the kitchen while she straightened a few things leftover from breakfast. Upstairs, Camille and Oliver were arguing again. I couldn’t make out any specifics this time.

“Running through lines again, huh?” I asked.

“I know, right?” Cici smiled as she put a carton of organic almond milk back into the fridge. She wore a Catholic school girl outfit, and her short skirt swished stiffly as she sashayed. Didn’t that look go out with the Britney Spears “Baby One More Time” video? “They fight like cats and dogs,” she said in a low voice.

“They do?” I said.

“Yeah, just act normal when they come downstairs.” After she finished tidying the kitchen, Cici checked the time. “He’s going to be late if they don’t wrap this up.” She washed her hands and dried them on a towel dangling from the oven handle. “Oh, before I forget, I have these for you two.” She handed each of us a sheet of paper. “It’s the tentative schedule for the next few weeks so you have a better idea of where we need to be and when.”

“Thanks,” Vance said, offering her a warm smile, and something about it stuck a thorn in my side.

She gave him her deep-dimpled smile, and the thorn dug in a little more. “Wish me luck. I’m going in.” Cici grabbed a mug of something she’d concocted off the island and took it with her.

After Cici went upstairs, we waited around for another hour. When Oliver and Camille finally came down, they both wore fake smiles.

“Sorry to keep you guys waiting. We should get going before the director sends a hit man out to get me.” He set the empty mug down on the coffee table while slipping into his shoes.

“Are you joining us on set today, Camille,” Cici asked.

Camille stepped in front of the window, facing the natural light with a sparkly compact flipped open in her hand. She drew a fresh line around her lips and powdered her nose before releasing an exaggerated sigh. “No, if I’m on set it will only be a distraction, isn’t that right?” Her lips curved upward but no humor touched her eyes. “I don’t want people fussing over me when it’s Oliver’s show. I think I’ll head out and do some shopping.” She strutted into the kitchen and fumbled with the single serving coffee maker, randomly pressing screens and buttons, opening and closing the brewing compartment, inflating everything and being excessively noisy. “I just want a damn cup of coffee. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Cici, how do you work this stupid thing?”