Page 83 of Protecting Peyton

“Hmm… That doesn’t sound like a no.”

“After careful consideration, yes, that includes me.” See? I could do a little light banter if I put my mind to it.

“Nice to know,” he answered. “The reason I called is that we followed up with your neighbor, Frankie, and I’m sorry to say…”

I braced for bad news.

“It’s confirmed. He didn’t have anything to do with your condo.”

“Oh.” That didn’t help me get my money back.

“It turns out he’s a professional burglar, just notyourburglar. He and his boss have been running a scheme where the manager gives him an alibi for burglaries he pulls off during his lunch break, in exchange for a slice of the money. The cops are about to nail him for a job he pulled in Santa Monica on the day you got robbed. Just wanted you to know what kind of guy he is.”

I cut our conversation short when Grace and Marci emerged from the demo room with the client.

An hour later,Marci was back in front of my desk with her biggest grin yet. “He must really like you.” She held her hands behind her, just as she had when March had sent me flowers.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I sure could use a pick-me-up and hoped it was chocolate.

“Close your eyes,” she said playfully.

I complied with the silly request.

“Okay, you can look.” She’d placed another vase on my desk, this time with what had to be two dozen pink roses, slightly lighter blush than the first set March had sent me.

I smiled. “Very nice.” Inwardly, I sported a monster smile. “I was hoping for something edible this time,” I joked.

“If you don’t want them?—”

“No. No. I like them.”

“What does the card say?” A hopeless romantic, she bounced from foot to foot.

I pulled out the card and froze when I saw the same crooked handwriting that had made me leave Boston.

Twice as many roses for our second meeting. It will be twice as sweet.

The card dropped from my fingers. These weren’t from March.

Breathe, dammit, breathe.My stomach roiled, but I wouldn’t freak out. That would be playing into his hands. I’d escaped him before, and I would do it again.Calm and logical. I had to be calm and logical.

Marci picked up the card and read it. “Second meeting?”

Improvise.I had to explain it away. Anything else would put poor sweet Marci at risk. “I think he means our second date, our second meal out. He was going to take me to dinner, but we had to postpone it when he got hurt.”

When I conked him on the head was more like it.

“Oooh,” she gushed. “That’s so romantic. You really lucked out with Zane.”

I had and I hadn’t. I needed to run. There was no other way. I had to leave him and all these wonderful people behind. The only thing worse was being dead, and that’s how I’d end up if I didn’t escape right now—today.

Shit.March had dropped me off, so I didn’t have my bike. He’d be watching for me on foot, on a bike, driving a car, or picking up a rideshare.

“I can get you some water for these.” Marci was so sweet.

“Would you? That would be great.” As soon as she left with the flowers, I looked up the bus schedule going north, since going south gave me only the option of San Diego, and I’d planned on getting farther away from here—somewhere like Portland.

My phone dinged the distinctive tone of an encrypted message arriving from Rhonda, which I definitely didn’t have time for now.