Dirty Little Secret(22)

“Busy.”

“It’s always busy when Alex is involved,” Sara Beth said with a grin.

Sam laughed. “He has a reputation to uphold, you know.”

Cailin felt a little out of the loop but forced herself to relax. More than likely the feeling grew from her uneasiness around Sara Beth. Somehow every time she saw the woman, those imagined letters sewn into her chest began to ache as if in recognition, and the urge to confess threatened to overwhelm her. But she got the feeling Sara Beth didn’t need to know her sins any more than Cailin wanted to share them.

“So do you live around here?” Sam asked, pulling Cailin out of her reverie.

“Actually I’m new to Atlanta. It feels small-town outside of the business districts, even though it’s not, really. Took a little getting used to, but I like it.”

“I feel the same way,” Sara Beth said. “Alex and I moved here about six months ago when Dad agreed to transfer us from California. The weather’s definitely taken some getting used to.”

Sam chuckled. “Definitely. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear your hair this short, and June hasn’t even arrived yet.”

“So you two knew each other before?” Cailin looked from one to the other and couldn’t miss the long look that passed between them.

“Sam was transferred too. Several of the LA employees were moved out when the office first opened.”

Cailin nodded. “Well, just a warning: summers here in the South are a bit like pea soup—thick and very humid. Invest in cool clothes.” She cocked her head and smiled. “And warm ones. We might get snow this winter. It happens every once in a while.”

The two women looked at her with varying degrees of dismay.

“You’ll like it, really,” she reassured them.

“So you’re from the South, then?” Sara Beth asked.

“Born and bred.”

“Are you here alone? No significant other?” Sam asked.

Cailin ducked her head, but not before seeing Sara Beth elbow her companion lightly in the ribs. The accompanying scowl was almost comical, it was so ferocious. “Um, I’m recently divorced.”

True sympathy colored Sam’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

Cailin shrugged and gathered her purse. “It’s fine, believe me. And now, I have to get a move on. Alex is waiting.”

Sara Beth sent her a wide smile. “The longer he waits, the more appreciative he is. Trust me.”

Again that feeling that she’d missed something passed through her, but Cailin brushed it away. A few minutes later she stepped back into the sunshine, lugging Alex’s dry cleaning once more.





Chapter Six

What the heck was I thinking? Cailin asked herself as she climbed onto a padded bar stool on the shadowed end of the bar at Thrice. Friday night hopped—or thrashed, depending on which corner you looked at. Various enclaves had developed in different areas of the room: headbangers, goths, twentysomethings… You name it, Thrice had it going on. The wild feel to the air rankled her nerves, already shot at this, her second trip to the nightclub. She’d met Alex here a month ago; surely she could meet someone else, anyone else. She had to get him out of her head.

“What can I get you, beautiful?”

The bartender leaned across the wide expanse of the gleaming bar toward her. The tag on his shirt said Brad. When she met his eyes, a glittering smile told her he was a charmer she would want to keep an eye out for.

Tongue-tied, Cailin found her answer caught somewhere between her head and her brain. She could count on two fingers the amount of times she’d ordered an alcoholic drink in her adult life. It’s not like there was a menu! What the heck should she order when she didn’t know for sure what anything was called, or what was in it, for that matter?

“Um…” She bit down on her lower lip in an effort to curb her embarrassment.

Brad seemed to sense her dilemma. “Not much of a drinker then, huh, beautiful?”

Cailin shook her head, figuring that was plenty of response with the pounding drums blaring from the stage below.

“Okay,” he answered, “let’s play twenty questions. But don’t worry,” he assured her as her eyes widened, “there’s really only two. Okay, maybe three.”

Cailin nodded.

Brad’s laugh was deep and throaty, sexy, and yet not so much as a tingle went through her. On an aesthetic level, she could see the appeal, but her body wasn’t getting the message. Doesn’t mean it won’t, girl. Just give yourself a chance.

“So, first question: Sweet or bitter?” At her obvious confusion, he clarified. “Do you like your drinks bitter or sweet?”