Blow(4)

I flinched, bewildered as I slowed my breathing. I took a moment to study him. If he hadn’t come in here all guns blazing, I would have thought him harmless. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties. Dressed in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, smooth silk tie, and wingtips, he looked nothing like the madman he’d seemed to be.

My heart finally started beating in time with my breathing, as Michael looked over at me, and with a nod, indicated I should follow him. He then slowly started walking toward the waiting area, the farthest point in the room from this Sean. I trailed behind. As soon as we reached the waiting area, he handed me Clementine. “Don’t be worried. I won’t be long.”

“Should I take her home?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Just wait for me. Everything’s fine.”

I nodded, looking for evidence in his face that he wanted me to do something else. It wasn’t there. I knew better than to ask if he wanted me to call the police.

Clementine squealed, not at all happy with the change-off as Michael hurried back into his office and the well-dressed man followed behind him. As soon as the door closed, shouting erupted. I couldn’t make out what they were arguing about, but I would have bet it wasn’t over a case.

I tried to harness my heavy breathing so my concern wasn’t obvious to the baby. Clementine, however, was oblivious to the danger and wiggled in my arms. I took a few deep, calming breaths before I set her down. I knew Michael would never do anything that would endanger her, and that knowledge helped push me through the uncertainty.

Walking toward the foyer, I retrieved my bag and pulled out a package of animal crackers. “Are you hungry?”

She toddled over to me and reached for them.

“Hang on, let me open them, silly girl.”

The bag didn’t seem to want to tear. Michael’s former secretary’s desk was a few feet away and I crossed them quickly to find a pair of scissors. I opened the middle drawer. It was empty. I opened the one above it. It was filled with Michael’s yellow legal pads. When I pulled out the center drawer, I hit gold. His former secretary had left her scissors. I grabbed them and cut open the bag.

“Mine, mine.” Clementine was reaching for it.

I handed it to her and put the scissors away. When I did, a small, tented piece of legal paper fluttered out of the shallow drawer. I shouldn’t have opened it when I picked it up, but curiosity got the best of me. It read, “Pick one.”

Okay.

The bottom half was torn off so I didn’t get to see the list to choose from.

“Juice,” Clementine asked.

I put the note back and shoved the drawer closed.

While I searched in my bag for her juice cup, Clementine quickly darted for the stairs. I dropped the bag on the first step and let her crawl up them, hovering above her. “One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four . . .” I sang to her as she took each step.

My heart had just stopped beating wildly in my chest when I felt the weight of someone’s stare prickle my neck. I quickly whipped around and let out a small gasp. There was a man, younger than the one who’d just stormed in, standing in the entranceway. I should have been afraid after what just occurred, but I wasn’t.

He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt us.

As I took him in, the air was once again ripped from my lungs, but for an entirely different reason. I drew in a breath and wasn’t sure if my reaction was the adrenaline high I was still on or if it was because he was utterly, unquestionably perfect from head to toe. Handsome face. Strong jaw. Sensuous lips. Beautiful eyes. Broad shoulders. Flat stomach. Narrow hips. And long legs.

He stared at me just as the other man had, and concern began to stir in my belly. I picked up Clementine and remained where I was for a moment, trying to decide whether I should leave or stay.

I couldn’t read him at all.

His voice was soft yet husky when he finally spoke. “I didn’t mean to startle you. The sign said to come in.”

Despite my inability to read him, I felt secure enough to walk down the stairs. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear the door.”

His smirk threw me for a loop. “You were busy . . . singing.”

Exhaling, I ignored the slow flush I felt spreading all over me. “I guess I was.”

The handsome man’s eyes swept over me as he said, “You carry quite a tune.”

Warmth radiated all the way to the tips of my toes. That voice did something to my insides. Something that made my stomach dip. Not knowing what else to do, I laughed.

I sounded ridiculous.

And I needed to focus.

To snap out of it.

His chuckle in response was soft. I found myself staring at him again.

“Down, down,” Clementine demanded, forcing me to pull my gaze away.

“In a moment, silly girl,” I reassured her, and then once I handed her the cup I’d taken out of my bag earlier, I glanced back at the handsome stranger. “Are you looking for Michael?”

The heat in his eyes was undeniable.

“Actually, my father.”

There was a strange feeling coursing through my body from head to foot. It had my head spinning. Finally, his words registered and I refocused.

Was he looking for the madman?

“Sean?” I asked in a surprisingly calm tone.

His slight nod told me I was right. My eyes studied him, as if my body somehow wasn’t in sync with my mind. I couldn’t help myself. He had a small jagged scar just under the inside corner of his left eye, but it didn’t detract from his incredibly good looks. As I stared, I could see the similarity between him and the older man. Same square jaw, chiseled nose, same face shape.