“I know. It’s my own choice. Finders is more important to me than my social life, even if the man in question wasn’t part of our funding.”
“Is that why you keep breaking up with the guys you date?”
Milla smiled. “Actually, they broke up with me, not the other way around. And there have really only been two since David and I divorced.”
Susanna’s mouth fell open. “Two? You’ve dated only two men?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ve dated, some, when I can. Which isn’t all that often, and not at all lately. But there’ve been only two quasi-relationships. Do you remember Clint Tidemore?”
“Vaguely. You dated him once or twice.”
“More than that. He was one of my quasies.”
“Cute guy.”
“Yes, he is. He wanted me around more than I could manage, and I wasn’t willing to delegate, so we parted ways.”
“You didn’t say anything. I thought he was just a casual date.”
“There wasn’t any point in rehashing everything when I wasn’t willing to compromise.”
“But you have to.” Susanna’s gaze turned serious. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to. Everyone compromises. It’s the only way to get along.”
“Maybe someday,” Milla said. Someday when she’d found Justin, and the devil was no longer flicking his whip at her heels. Until that day, she couldn’t rest, couldn’t let anything else matter to her.
“Make it sooner rather than later,” Susanna advised as she glanced at her watch and picked up her bill. “I have to run. Appointments start at two.”
Milla stood also, and they hugged. Then Susanna dashed off, her mind already on work. Milla lagged behind, gathering her bag and leaving the tip, since Susanna had forgotten. Two other patrons got between her and Susanna at the cash register, and when Milla finally emerged from the café, Susanna’s red Mercedes was already two blocks down the street. Milla crossed the street to where she had parked her Toyota SUV, her head down as she searched the bottom of her bag for her car keys. Usually she just put the keys in her pocket, but the slim skirt she was wearing today didn’t have pockets.
There they were. She was almost at the Toyota when she finally spotted them. She pulled the keys out, looked up, and barely choked back a startled shriek when she almost collided with the man who had appeared out of nowhere and was now between her and her vehicle.
“I’ve been waiting,” Diaz said.
9
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t walk with your head down like that?” he continued, his dark eyes narrowed in the shadow of his hat brim. “And you should always have your keys in your hand before you leave a building.”
Thank goodness she was wearing her sunglasses, she thought a trifle wildly, so he couldn’t see how her eyes had bugged out with fright. Her heart was still galloping, and a cold sweat had broken out on her skin. She had to stop reacting to him like this, before he realized she practically jumped out of her skin every time he moved a muscle.
That wasn’t to say he didn’t already realize it, because she saw the tiniest twitch of his mouth. The twitch could never have been called a smile, but maybe it wanted to be one.
“I usually do,” she found herself explaining as she tried to fit the key into the lock. Her hand was shaking slightly and she had to try again before she succeeded. The next vehicle she bought, she promised herself, would have remote-operated locks. As she opened the door, she said, “Joann said you called.”
“Yeah.” He leaned past her and hit the unlock button that released all the locks, then went around and got into the passenger seat.
Evidently he was riding with her. Either that or he didn’t want to talk while standing on the sidewalk. Taking a deep breath, she got behind the wheel and started the motor, then turned the air-conditioning on high and lowered the windows to help dissipate the stifling heat that had built up in the closed vehicle.
He’d had to remove his hat when he got in, and he twisted to toss the dark brown Stetson onto the backseat. Then he buckled his seat belt.
For a moment she was so startled by the image of an assassin wearing his seat belt that the significance of his action escaped her. She blinked as she realized that he wouldn’t have fastened the belt unless he expected the vehicle to be moving soon.
She put her bag on the back floorboard and fastened her own seat belt. “Where to?” she asked, in case he had any specific ideas about their destination.
He shrugged. “You’re driving.”
“I was going back to the office.”
“Fine.”
“Where’s your car?”
“In a safe place. I’ll tell you when to let me out.”
She shrugged, checked her mirrors, and when she saw a gap in traffic, she pulled out of her parking space. The air blowing from the vents was becoming cool, so she raised the windows, sealing the two of them inside the small private space. She’d never before realized just how small and just how private a vehicle was, but even though Diaz was the most still person she’d ever met, he had a way of taking up space and making it his own. She felt both crowded and smothered, even though he was doing nothing more than sitting quietly beside her.
“Why did you call?” she finally asked, since he wasn’t volunteering any information.
“Pavón isn’t in the area now. He’s gone to ground somewhere.”
Disappointment hit her in the stomach like a sledgehammer. She tightened her hands on the steering wheel. “You know that already?”