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H arlow stared at the door that Grayson had hightailed it out of as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. What was that about? For a moment there, she’d thought he was going to kiss her. And she’d wanted him to, and that was a surprise.

She’d thought Anthony had ruined her for wanting to ever kiss another man. Apparently not, because Grayson stirred something inside her that she hadn’t felt in years. She admonished herself. She couldn’t be thinking of Grayson and kisses. The timing was all wrong. She had one mission, and that was to get her son back.

Einstein jumped on the sofa, his ever-present chatter filling the silence. That was one reason she loved him. When the silence without her boy threatened to lay her low, Einstein was there to demand her attention. He never allowed her to wallow in her misery. How could she when he parked himself on her lap and told her about his day? She was pretty sure this conversation was all about Grayson. He’d seemed fascinated by the man, and she couldn’t blame him.

“I know you’re a guy and you probably don’t notice these things, but Grayson’s pretty hot. Even more appealing, he’s really nice.”

Einstein meowed in agreement.

Of course, she’d thought Anthony was nice at one time, and look how that had turned out. Her judgment couldn’t be trusted and her confidence in herself was shot. Before she even considered letting another man into her life, she had to finish what she’d started…finding herself again.

Grayson and his partner had been fun with their Wile and Elmer names and their jokes. The apartment seemed empty without them in it in a way it had never felt before. Thankfully, they hadn’t found any bugs or cameras. That would have really creeped her out.

She wished she had a friend to talk to, someone she trusted enough to share what was going on in her life. Maybe talk about Grayson a little, but Anthony had cut her off from her girlfriends. Why had she let that happen?

So, fix it. Were her old friendships fixable, especially with Lena, who’d been her best friend since fifth grade? They’d been similar enough in appearance—with their blond hair and, although Lena’s were darker, they both had blue eyes—that people sometimes asked if they were sisters.

Call her. Where were those thoughts coming from? She’d have to think about calling Lena. For one, she was embarrassed that she’d shut Lena out without any kind of explanation. How did you explain to your best friend that you’d let your husband bully you into cutting all ties with anyone he didn’t approve of, which was everyone from her life before him?

For another, would Lena even be happy to hear from her after years of silence? Only one way to find out. Maybe she would. Later. After she thought of what to say to the woman who’d been her best friend. But first, lunch. You’re delaying. Yes, she was. It was a positive step to even be thinking about repairing old friendships, so… “Give me a break, voice in my head.”

“Meowooow.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a wad.” She tapped Einstein’s nose. “I wasn’t talking to you. How about some lunch?” She chuckled. The old boy could move fast when one of his favorite words was uttered.

* * *

After lunch, she actually managed to get some work done. Her baseball player had emailed with some questions, and after responding, she’d created and scheduled ads for several of her authors. That done, she worked for a while on the website she was designing for an up-and-coming country singer out of Nashville. Designing websites was one of her favorite things to do, and she got lost for a while in the work.

Her stomach growled, and when she glanced up, she blinked at realizing the sun was setting. She set her laptop aside and stretched. What did she want for dinner? She ended up making one of her favorite easy meals: slices of assorted cheeses, artisan crackers, a few feta cheese-filled olives, grapes and some walnuts. She took the plate and a glass of pinot grigio out to her balcony. She set them on the table, then went back inside and got both phones and her Kindle.

One of the things that helped keep her mind off missing her son and sinking into a depression was reading, so when she wasn’t working, she read a lot. She took a sip of wine as she scanned the lake for the swan couple. She’d picked this apartment because it looked out on Lake Painted Turtle, named for the resident painted turtles. Then when she’d walked out on the balcony when first viewing the apartment and seen the swans floating in the lake, she’d thought of how much Tyler would love watching them.

It would happen. She had to believe that she’d have her little boy back. Believing was the only thing keeping her going. She’d been close to despairing that he’d never be with her again when she’d seen the newspaper article. It was a story about The Phoenix Three and the twelve-year-old girl who’d been kidnapped by a pedophile on her way home from school. Grayson had been the one who’d found her and returned her to her parents.

Although the article had named the three men of The Phoenix Three, along with their photos, she’d wanted the man who hadn’t given up on finding that young girl. Maybe it wasn’t fair to him that she was putting all her hopes on him, but she didn’t know what else to do.

It also wasn’t fair that she hadn’t told him the secret that could put Anthony in prison. It was a dangerous secret, and she had to know that she could trust Grayson before she shared it. She didn’t know that yet.

She’d just finished the last of her grapes when Homer and Marge floated by, and as she always did when she saw them, she sighed. Even though they were swans, she liked to think they were proof that love existed.

The burner phone buzzed, and she smiled. Grayson had said he’d call tonight, but she hadn’t expected him to. She shouldn’t compare him to Anthony, though, who never did anything he said he was going to.

“Hello.”

“It’s Grayson. Did I catch you at a good time?”

He could catch her anytime he wanted. Okay, that was a wild thought out of nowhere. “Um, yeah, now’s good. I’m just sitting on my balcony watching Homer and Marge.”

“You like that show?”

“Never watched it. Homer and Marge are the swans that live on my lake. Right now, they’re facing each other with their foreheads touching. So sweet.” She doubted he was interested in her swans. “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about.”

“Yes, do the names Etta Jankowski or George Pickens mean anything to you?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“It appears that the real estate side of the Pressley business cheated them out of their home.”

“That’s terrible. How did they do that?” As he told her the story, something she’d overheard back when she and Anthony were dating nagged at her mind. What was it?

“We’re working on finding out who in the tax office helped the Pressleys.”

“Dale Jenkins would be my guess. He heads up the tax office. Anthony’s had him over to the house on occasion. Do you think they’ve done this to anyone else?”

“We’ve only learned about these two, but it’s always a possibility.”

True, especially knowing what she did about the family. She was going to have to tell Grayson soon. It was just that if the secret wasn’t handled right, Anthony would suspect it came from her, and revenge was one of his favorite words. He excelled at retaliation.

“Homer and Marge still sucking face?”

She laughed. “No, they floated away. What are you doing?” Was that okay to ask? She really liked talking to him and didn’t want to hang up.

“Sitting on my deck. You’d love it here tonight. There’s a storm in the distance, and the waves are crashing on shore. The sky above me is still clear, so there are thousands of stars.”

“I love the beach when it’s storming. I just have my little lake, so I’m jealous of your ocean.”

“You should come over sometime.”

Was he asking her out on a date?

“We need to talk some more about the Pressleys and how to proceed, and this is as good a place as any to do that.”

Not a date, then. There was no reason to feel disappointed, yet she did. Even if he did ask, she’d politely decline… She was pretty sure she would. The last thing she needed in her life right now was a man. “Okay. When’s good?”

“Up to you.”

“The sooner we get things rolling, the better,” she said. “Does tomorrow night work?”

“Sure. I’m going to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d prefer it. I want to make sure we’re not followed.”

“Oh.” She shouldn’t have to worry about being stalked.

“I want you to leave by the rear of your building. Carry a bag of trash to the dumpster. I’ll pick you up there at four. That’ll give us time to get back to the beach and have a drink before dinner.”

“Okay.” She hated this cloak-and-dagger stuff, and it rankled that she had to be secretive even though she was free to go wherever she wished with whomever she wished. She wanted it over.

“Do you like seafood?”

“Love it, why?”

“I’ll throw some shrimp on the barbie,” he said with an Australian accent.

He needed to stop making her smile.