Once And Forever: Virtually Impossible Part 18

"Your friend. Yeah, you should." He'd said 'friend' like someone would say, 'I have to clean the bathroom of the YMCA. With my tongue.'

I didn't know why I felt the need to explain, because what, or who, he thought I was doing shouldn't matter. But it did. And he did. And I needed to deal with the facts. "If I leave her alone too long, her terrible taste in men will get her in trouble."

"Does she have long straight hair?"

"Yeah."

"Was she wearing some kind of sparkly green s.h.i.+rt?"

"Why?"

"She left while you were playing peek-a-boo."

"Oh s.h.i.+t." I spun around, looking for her, my unsober mind figuring a quick glance around the lobby would help me see a few minutes ago. Duh. Sure it could. "Where was she headed?"

"They went to the valet line."

"They." Great. I reached for my wallet/phone case and found myself out of luck. "d.a.m.n it." Sara had used my phone to take a picture of me and must have stuck it in her purse, so I had no phone and no money. "d.a.m.n it, d.a.m.n it, d.a.m.n it."

Hayden stepped forward cautiously, like I was a panicked animal, which I actually was-a drunk and panicked animal. "She's not allowed to do that?"

I shook my head. I shouldn't have left her alone. "I have to find out where she went."

"It seemed like she went willingly."

"Of course, she did. She always does. That's why I need to find her."

"Can I help?"

"You could let me borrow your phone."

He handed it to me, and the first thing I saw was my fake name in a very short list of favorites. I ignored that and dialed Sara's number. No answer. So I tried mine. No answer on that one either.

Sara would never take a guy to her place, so it was useless to go there. I needed my computer. So, if I could b.u.m bus fare from Hayden and be home in an hour and a half or find a ride and be home in fifteen minutes. And the only person who could give me a ride was...

d.a.m.n it. "I need a ride home."

"My car is just a few blocks away."

I looked at him. "Normally I would ask to see your ID and a major credit card, but I already have access to that information." His pa.s.swords, account numbers, home and office addresses, and pretty much everything else there was to know about him. If he was an ax murderer, he didn't use his credit cards for duct tape and shovels. But taking him to my house? That would bring him into my life, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that to ever happen.

"Can I trust you, Hayden?"

"You know me better than 99% of the people in my life. So you tell me."

"Yeah, I can." The bigger question was: Could I trust myself?

24.

Andi I put the cup of coffee Hayden had bought me on the way out of the hotel into a cup holder, careful not to spill it all over his very expensive, very pristine car, and then dialed Sara's number again from his phone. There was probably no reason to panic, but the reaction was visceral for me.

I was still pretty tipsy and needed to pay close attention to what exactly I said. Or did. So I didn't say anything else to Hayden. I could tell he was watching me out of the corner of his eye while he drove. Every time I checked, his face would turn slightly but not all the way, and his lips would separate as if he was about to speak. Then they'd clamp together tightly.

"Hayden, maybe things would be less awkward if you just said what you want to say."

"I was just wondering why you're trying to rescue a friend who probably doesn't want to be rescued."

That was an explanation I owed him. One of many. "Sara doesn't always think things through. I know because I used to be the same way." And guess how well that had turned out. "Back then, she took care of me." Then, overnight, our roles switched and I became the responsible one.

The most troubling part was knowing why I'd been like that-I'd been punis.h.i.+ng myself. Sara knew all about my screw-up, but I still didn't know her reasons. Anything that turned a happy and hopeful person into someone who couldn't go a weekend without getting into trouble wasn't good.

"All I can do is make sure she's safe, you know?"

Hayden nodded, probably wondering what any of that actually meant, but thankfully not asking. "Doesn't it get confusing with both of you named Sara?"

I looked out the window to hide my I'm-such-a-terrible-liar expression. I really should limit the time I spent in public...to none. "Well, I don't speak in the third person, so if I say 'Sara,' people usually know I'm referring to her."

"Right." He laughed, his smile showing off perfect teeth and a small dimple in his cheek. No one should be allowed to look that good-it was bad for everyone else's self-esteem.

"Can you drive faster?" I asked. Having a big freak-out about being so close to a disgustingly gorgeous man should wait until after I'd made sure Sara was okay. Since there wasn't much I could do about it on the way home, I might as well bide my time with a medium-sized freak-out. "How did you know I was at the bar?"

"On my way back from a dinner meeting, I pa.s.sed you and Other-Sara on the street. You-Sara said something truly obnoxious very loudly, and I recognized your voice. So I followed you in a completely non-stalkerish way, just to see if I was right."

"What did I say?"

"I'm not sure it should be repeated." He winked. "Ever."

I grimaced. "See? I embarra.s.sed myself, and you are completely un-intimidated by me now."

"Actually," he said softly, "sitting next to you, I find myself quite intimidated."

"You're just saying that to be nice."

"I'm saying that because it's true. I've wanted to meet you for a long time."

"And now you have. Impressive, ain't I?" I'd considered pulling down the visor to see what three bars and no-idea-how-many drinks had left behind, but what would that do besides make me feel even worse about this whole situation?

"Very." He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road as we got closer to my neighborhood.

This was a seriously lousy time to confront him, but unfortunately, all that liquor still hadn't blurred out the detective's visit. "Hayden, did you tell anyone how I found out who was stealing your s.h.i.+t."

"My s.h.i.+t?" He laughed. "No, I thought you didn't want me to, but I'd be happy to give you credit."

"No," I said quickly. "I don't really want anyone to know. I don't like getting mixed up in that kind of thing." Wasn't that the truth. "Plus, you know how it is-as soon as someone finds out you do something well, they're constantly asking for favors."

"People never ask me for favors. Do you think that means no one thinks I do anything well?"

I grimaced. "Yeah, I'm sure you've brought horrible shame onto your family, what with all your incredible successes. They've gotta be so embarra.s.sed."

"If you ever meet any of them, don't mention you know me. It'll just get uncomfortable."

I called Sara again to avoid constantly staring at him and wondering if the heat I felt was from being so close to him or being so filled with cheap booze.

"Still no answer."

"Maybe she's not answering because she doesn't recognize the number," he said.

"Possible. It's the third on the left," I said as we turned on to my street. Little boxes of single-family homes lined each side. They all looked alike, and they all held middle-income, happy families. Except for mine. Someday I'd get around to fixing up my place, but it wouldn't hold a family until after I was long gone.

He pulled into my driveway. "It's lovely. Yours?"

I nodded. "My grandmother's really. She left it to me when she died. It's not what you're probably used to, but it has a roof...mostly." I slipped out of the car and stumbled only once, which was impressive. He followed me up to the porch.

I took a breath before I opened the door, making peace with what I was about to do. Nope. No peace here. My mind seemed pretty well ravaged by war, actually. Letting a client into my home was against every rule Emilia had set. But more than that, it was against every rule I had set. And Hayden wasn't just another client.

So many things could go wrong as soon as I opened the door. How weird would it be to have him wait on the porch? The swing would squeak, but it would hold him.

I turned toward him, the door still locked behind me. He was maybe a foot and a half away, looking at me with an expression that might actually be very similar to the one I wore, both of which were highly dangerous. "I'm giving you an out now."

He c.o.c.ked his head to the side. "Clarify."

"You're allowed to leave now."

"If it's alright with you, I'd rather stay a bit longer."

Was it alright with me? Yeah, way more than it should be. For all the wrong reasons.

When I hesitated, he added, "You might need another ride somewhere tonight."

Although, if I had to pick Sara up somewhere, I could take a cab. And pay a ton of money to hear the driver complain and drive me around the city searching for her.

"That's an excellent point." I nodded gratefully.

This kind of c.r.a.p was why I'd stopped drinking, why this night should've never happened, and why I really needed a car. If Sara needed help or a ride, I couldn't give her one. So, logically-and having nothing to do with the fact that I really, really, really wanted him to stay-it made sense for him to stick around a while.

Plus, I wasn't going to give in to my baser urges, no matter how much power they currently held over me. Especially while my friend might need me. And I would never go to bed with a married man. So as far as I was concerned-Hayden was safe from me.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Hayden," I said, still facing the door. "So if that's what you're thinking is going to happen, you're totally wrong." Well said. And not even a little bit slurred.

"I'm not going to sleep with you either."

"You're not?" Not as well said. There was a bit too much disappointment in it.

"No, I'm not. I'm here to a.s.sist in whatever way I can, not to take advantage of a beautiful woman who's been drinking."

Beautiful? I kind of got stuck on the word, unable to move past it for a moment. But then all the others. .h.i.t me and made much more sense. "Right. Okay, then... That settles it. Neither of us is sleeping with anyone- I mean, each other. Neither of us is sleeping-" I scratched my head. "I'm going to switch topics now."

I heard him chuckle as I unlocked the door and went inside. "Whatever you see in here is cla.s.sified."

He shut the door behind us. "Lights?"

Right. I flicked on a lamp in the living room. "Don't touch anything, move anything, or lay down on anything." That last one was so that I didn't get distracted.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers denting his biceps. Very distracting biceps.

Focus, d.a.m.n it. But not on him.

I didn't turn on too many lights, just in case there was anything incriminating lying around, like a piece of mail with my real name on it. As long as he didn't know who I was, then he wouldn't know the computer setup he'd bought me could put me in prison. And he wouldn't get in trouble for knowing. Great. Lies were so useful.

Now was not the time to go into it. I wasn't sure when that time was, but it definitely wasn't after drinking heavily. If I started talking about it now, we'd probably end the night with me sobbing onto his shoulder, confessing about that pack of gum I'd stolen when I was nine. Or the time-yesterday-I'd hidden Emilia's keys so we were late for spin cla.s.s, and by the time we got there, only one bike was left so I generously said she could take it and then went home and finished off a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

I shook my head and led him to the kitchen. "Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge." Nothing in there had 'Andi' written on it. "I'll...um...be back in a few minutes."

He looked at me strangely but didn't say anything. I went straight to my office and booted up my computer. Halfway through the boot, I realized that while the fridge might not have anything with my name on it, there could be any number of condemning things in the room I'd just left him in. Better to keep him close.

"Hayden, can you come here?" Thank G.o.d my computer wasn't in my bedroom. I quickly shoved my bills into a drawer, hearing the click of his shoes on the wooden floors. When he came inside the office, I dove into my chair.

"Nice." He came up behind me and rested his arm right above my head. "So this is where the magic happens, huh?"

"Nah, the real magic happens next door in my bed-" I bit my tongue. Literally. "Never mind."

"Is that...?" He blinked and tilted his head, looking at my desktop computer-using the word loosely.

"The system you bought me?" I tilted my head too-nope, didn't make it any better. "Um...I did a little customization, that sort of thing, but yeah, it is."

I'd salvaged what I could from my last computer and combined it with the one he'd given me. It looked a bit Frankenstein-ish but worked like a miracle. Plus, if I ever got in trouble with the law-which would never happen to sweet, innocent, never-screw-up-anything me-well, it was a h.e.l.l of a lot easier to hide than the original set-up.

"Think of it like this: Computers are like people-what's going on inside is more important than the way it looks outside."

"Huh." He shook his head after a little more staring. "So what happens now?"

"Now I track her phone," I said quietly.

"You what?"

I spun my chair around. "I'm going to track her phone, but please don't tell anyone because I could get in trouble, beyond just making Sara mad."

"My mouth is shut about anything that happens tonight. Anything."

I was sure he hadn't meant that to sound so seductive. I spun back to the keyboard, hearing him back up and lean against the wall. My heart was beating triple-time as I worked-once for staying alive, once for Hayden being in my house, and the last for my Sara-induced anxiety. It only took a few minutes to get into the phone company's system and then a few more to triangulate Sara's phone. When I heard Hayden sigh, I knew I had to explain, at least a little.

"If I had my phone, I could just use the app that tracks the chip in Sara's phone. It's usually used by parents who want to know where their teenager is, but it's also handy for paranoid friends." I'd set up the tracking on Sara's and Emilia's phones without them knowing. I was hiding so much from so many people, sometimes I couldn't keep it all straight. A perfect example of that was the man standing behind me, leaning against the wall and not even knowing my real name or anything about me.