Page 38 of Positively Pricked

Chapter 11

With growing dread, I rattled back to the neighborhood entrance and turned into the small parking area that was located just a short walk away from the guard shack.

If I was planning to give the guy bad news, I figured the least I could do was deliver it in person rather than shout it out my car window as I made my own escape.

Night was falling fast, and I was eager to get this over with. With my stomach in knots, I got out of my car and approached the guard-shack on-foot.

In spite of its small size, the so-called shack looked a lot nicer than most of the homes in my current neighborhood. Its exterior was a rich, red brick with fieldstone accents. It had a single door and several cheerful-looking white-trimmed windows, complete with window panes and fancy green shutters.

The building was cute, like a gingerbread house for rich people. Unfortunately, I was in no mood to admire it. My feet felt heavy, and my shoulders slumped. The guard hadn't yet appeared in any of the windows, and I was grateful for the reprieve.

My thoughts grew darker with every step. How on Earth was I going to tell him? It's not like I could simply blurt out, "Sorry, dude. You're about to be fired, but thanks ever so much for the help."

Just shoot me, now.

I was still a few steps away when the shack's narrow door flew open, and the security guard rushed outside. He was big and muscular, with a thick neck and close-cropped hair. He slammed the door behind him and gave me a big friendly smile. "Hey, you're back."

I tried to smile in return, but my face refused to cooperate. "Uh, yeah. See, the thing is…" I pushed a nervous hand through my hair. "I've got something to tell you, and it's kind of important."

"Oh yeah?" He moved closer. "In public or private?"

Well, I didn't want to shout it from the rooftops, that was for sure. "Uh, private, I guess?"

He grinned. "I like the sounds ofthat."

Oh, crap.

The way it looked, he was expectinggoodnews. I couldn’t imagine what. Heck, on the way in, I hadn't even given him my phone number. Instead, I'd explained – truthfully, I might add – that my cell phone was missing-in-action, which meant that any cell number of mine would be pretty useless until the phone itself reappeared.

None of this had been a lie. And yet, I'd phrased it carefully to spare his feelings. The sad truth was, the guy simply wasn't my type.

And now, I could hardly meet his eyes. "It's not exactlygoodnews."

Talk about a massive understatement.

The guy was still smiling. "Hey, I'll take what I can get." He gave a rueful laugh. "You ever have one of those days?"

I blew out a nervous breath. "Oh, yeah."

He gave the guard shack a quick glance. "But I'm a little tied up at the moment. You wanna come back in a half-hour?"

No. Definitely not.

Already, my stomach was knotted so tight, it literally ached. In a half-hour, I might lose my nerve entirely. Plus, this neighborhood was literally the last place on Earth I wanted to be. After all, I'd lost my own job today, thanks to a certain prick who lived within these oh-so-exclusive gated grounds.

I shook my head. "Actually—"

He held up a hand. "Hold that thought." He turned and looked toward the long, winding road that led up to the neighborhood. On that road, a pair of headlights was heading our way.

The guard tossed a quick apology over his shoulder, and rushed back into the guard shack, slamming the door shut behind him.

Damn it.

From the shadows, I watched the headlights get closer until they stopped just outside the gated barrier.

A moment later, the barrier slid aside, and the headlights, which belonged to a sleek dark sedan, eased through the opening and kept on going.

When the gate slid back in place, I waited, expecting the guard to return. But he didn't. Instead, he opened the window facing me and called out, "So, see you in a half-hour?"