Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(3)

I kept my eyes on him and, like I’d been doing since I’d been led in that room what felt like hours ago (and what I didn’t know actually was), I kept them away from the mirror where I’d seen enough cop shows on TV to know recording equipment and possibly police officers were watching.

“Mrs. Heller,” he said and I felt my heart skip at hearing that name.

“Ms. O’Hara,” I replied and his gaze didn’t leave mine.

“Sorry, ma’am?” he asked but he wasn’t sorry, I knew he wasn’t sorry.

“Ms. O’Hara, my name,” I answered and he nodded, still not releasing my eyes and I didn’t tear mine from his.

“You were Mrs. Heller,” he stated. “Do I have that right?”

“Yes,” I told him. “You have that right.”

“For ten years,” he went on.

I didn’t reply, just lifted my chin a little wondering what the hell was going on.

“Married to Damian Heller, is that correct?”

Uh-oh.

I wasn’t sure this was good.

“Yes, I was married to Damian Heller,” I agreed then enquired, “What’s this about?”

“Funny,” he said quietly.

I wasn’t thinking anything was funny including him weirdly saying the word “funny”.

“Funny?” I prompted.

“Funny you didn’t ask that first,” he observed. “Usually folks wanna know right off why they’re sittin’ in a room like this.”

I stared at him. Then I returned, “Well, seeing as you opened with the knowledge you didn’t even know my name, I thought it important to get that straight before we got started with whatever is going on here.”

I watched his eyes flare with annoyance as his mouth got tight.

Jerk.

“So,” I pushed, “would you mind telling me why I’m here?”

“There’s a few things we need to know.”

I lifted my brows. “And those would be?”

“Can you tell me if you’ve been in contact with your husband recently?” he asked.

Damn it all to hell. Damian. God!

My ex-husband. A pain in my ass. Would I never get rid of that man?

“Yes, I can tell you that I’ve been in contact with my ex- husband recently,” I answered.

“And what did you discuss?” he went on.

“We didn’t discuss anything except me asking him repeatedly to stop contacting me,” I replied.

He studied me. Then he asked, “So was this on the phone or did you meet?”

“On the phone,” I told him.

“You didn’t meet?” he pushed.

“No.”

He flipped open the folder in front of him and my eyes dropped to it. Then he flipped some papers over then finally he pulled out some black and white eight by tens, turned them and slid them across the table to me.

In them were photos of me and Damian having lunch.

Okay. This was not good. Why were people taking photos of me and Damian having lunch?

And secondly, this was not good because I really had to consider never wearing that top again. It didn’t do me any favors even in black and white.

“Would you like to amend your last answer?” he offered and my eyes went to him.

“No,” I replied, his brows went up but his head turned slightly to the side toward the mirror.

Yep. People were watching.

Damn.

“Mrs. Heller –” he started but I interrupted him.

“My name, sir, is Ms. O’Hara. Actually, it’s Tess because no one calls me Ms. O’Hara.

And I’ll explain those photos and my answer,” I stated then went on before he could speak.

“You asked if I had been in contact with my ex-husband recently. I have on several occasions as he calls me frequently. Sometimes I pick up and tell him to stop calling me. Sometimes I don’t. It is rare when I don’t. I was married to Damian for ten years, he dislikes being ignored and he’s not skilled with catching hints. He responds better to direct communication although this endeavor unfortunately takes time because he doesn’t respond very quickly if that communication happens to be something he doesn’t want to hear. My hope was, if I told him enough, he’d eventually leave me alone. Those photos,” I lifted a hand out of my lap and gestured to the photos on the table before dropping it back to my lap, “were taken of me having lunch with Damian what I believe was at least six months ago. That is not, in my definition, recent. If your definition of recent is different, I apologize for I didn’t give you the answer you expected but, even so, I still gave you one which was honest.”

He didn’t hesitate after I spoke before he asked, “Can you tell me what you discussed during this not recent lunch?”

“Can you tell me why I’m here?” I returned.

“I prefer to ask the questions Ms. O’Hara. ”

I stared at him then I pulled in a breath. Then I answered, “Damian wanted to discuss reconciliation.”

“He wants you back,” he stated.

“That is what reconciliation means,” I informed him and his mouth got tight again.

Then he observed, “I would assume from your asking him not to contact you via the phone that you declined this reconciliation.”