Suddenly One Summer (FBI/US Attorney #6)(72)

She said nothing as she picked up her briefcase, refusing to be drawn into this conversation.

“Don’t forget your umbrella, Ms. Slade,” he said cheekily.

Oops—right. She grabbed her umbrella and gave him a slight smile. Cheeky or not, the man was a lifesaver. “Good night, Will.”

She headed down the hallway and made her way to the elevator bank. After pushing the down button, Will’s comment about Ford echoed in her head.

I like him. And so do you, even if you won’t admit it.

There’d been a moment on Saturday night, as she’d been lying on the bed next to Ford, when things had felt different between them. Good different.

Scary different.

At the time, she’d covered up her thoughts by asking about the stupid brownies, assuming it was just a fleeting, post-sex thing. But here she was two days later, and the little butterflies she felt in her stomach every time she thought about him still hadn’t gone away.

And that was even scarier.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, she forced herself not to think about Ford and concentrate instead on the task at hand—a task that already had her anxious enough.

Tonight, she was taking on the subway during rush hour.

As she cut across the building lobby, she took her earbuds out of her briefcase and plugged them into her phone. She scrolled through her playlist until she found the song she wanted, and felt charged as she stepped outside into the rain and the music began to play.

This girl is on fire.

Damn skippy.

And tonight, this girl was going to kick the ass of her teeny, tiny panic-attack problem.

Twenty-six

FORD STOOD UNDER the red glass overhang of the Thompson Center, trying to stay dry from the rain.

He’d just finished interviewing the director of the Department of Children and Family Services for his story on parents who’d abused or neglected their children while supposedly under the agency’s supervision. The interview had run longer than he’d expected—the director had been surprisingly willing to talk—and since it was already five o’clock he decided to scrap his plan to return to the Trib office and call it a day instead.

He checked his cell phone, hoping to have a message from Victoria.

No luck.

He was very eager to hear how her meeting with Sutter had gone, so he decided to try to catch her at work. The rain began to fall steadily as he walked the three blocks, so while waiting for a red light to change, he wrestled his umbrella out of his messenger bag.

Just then, he spotted Victoria as she stepped out of the revolving doors of her building. She opened her umbrella and began walking in the opposite direction.

He called her name, but she didn’t turn, his voice undoubtedly drowned out by the cacophony of street noise as cars, taxis, and buses whooshed between them on the rain-slick street. It took a good minute for the light to change, so by the time he crossed the street he’d lost sight of her on the crowded sidewalk that was a sea of umbrellas.

Walking quickly and weaving through other pedestrians, he saw her cross the street ahead of him, and realized with an ironic smile that she’d led him right back to the Thompson Center. Seeing her head in the direction of the underground subway station, he hurried to make the light.

“Victoria!” he called, closing the gap.

She still didn’t look back as she headed down the stairs to the station.

Not far behind her now, he pushed through the turnstile and made his way to the underground platform, which was even more crowded than usual because of the rain. While closing his umbrella, he spotted Victoria on the far end of the platform, her back to him as she waited for the train.

He made his way over and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and turned around, and only then did he see that she had earbuds in that were covered by her long hair.

“Ms. Slade. Fancy meeting you here,” he said.

“Ford.” She stared at him in surprise, before ducking her head to take out her earbuds.

But the strangest thing was, before she looked away, he could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of something else in her eyes.

Something that looked oddly like panic.

* * *

HE COULDN’T BE here.

Victoria, who’d been calm just moments ago, felt a rush of anxiety as she stashed the earbuds in the outside pocket of her briefcase, next to the umbrella. One of the reasons she’d been comfortable taking on the challenge of riding the subway during rush hour was that she’d had an exit strategy planned in the event anything had gone awry. She’d reassured herself, the same way she had during her exercise class and the time she’d gotten nervous on the elevator, that if she felt faint or panicky, she could always just get off the train and take a cab the rest of the way home.

But Ford being here changed everything. Obviously, he would know something was wrong if she suddenly decided to get off before their stop. And since she didn’t want him, of all people, to know about her panic attacks, that meant one thing.

She was trapped.

Her heart began to pound, so she took a deep breath. From the diaphragm. Just like the good doctor had taught her.

Ford cocked his head. “Are you okay?”

Shit. He already was looking at her funny and they hadn’t even gotten on the train yet.

This did not make her feel any less panicked.

Come on, Slade, pull it together. You can do this.