Shaking my head, I let myself into my apartment once again, and the kitchen phone rang. I set my backpack on the table and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“How’d it go? Did the chicken fly the coop?” said a male voice.
“Look, Detective, I’m not a chicken and I can handle Queens just fine. Is there something you wanted?”
“Mac?” he sputtered.
“Who else would it be?”
“Uh, wrong number. But since I have you on the line, how are you? Need any help getting tucked in for the night?”
“I’m fine, really. And I’ve been tucking myself in for thirty years. I’m pretty sure I’ve got it covered.”
“That’s right. You made that perfectly clear the other night. My mistake.”
“Can you blame me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t have the energy to get into it. No matter how nice he seemed, I wasn’t prepared to get involved with anyone. “I’m just glad we’re still on the same page.”
“All right, then. Take care.”
Clunk. Dial tone.
“Dylan?”
Still dial tone.
“Unbelievable.” Hot Britches had taken ‘no’ pretty easily. My no, anyway. I should be happy, but it had me thinking maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe my eggs really were rotting, and I had dried up since the scandal. I hadn’t pictured any of this when I’d decided to start a new life.
Pickle-flashing molesters.
Sex-addicted Detectives.
Karate-chopping Amazon cat women.
Welcome to the life of Callie MacDonald, unsuspecting tenant of the freaking Twilight Zone. Twilight Zone or not, I vowed to stay put and figure my life out, make a fresh start.
No more running for me.
***
That afternoon, I stepped into the ritzy hotel where I now worked and nodded to the manager. The same reaction I always got every time I walked through these doors hit me hard, taking my breath away. I stared in appreciation at the oversized paintings and gleaming surfaces of the lobby counters. My surroundings sure were improving. The place reeked of money.
Walking across the fancy ceramic tile floor, I trailed my hand along the back of several pieces of overstuffed furniture arranged around plush throw rugs. The walls were painted in a swirling pattern of browns. Bet the people who stayed here hadn’t even heard of Norman Bates.
And no pickle-flashing psychos in sight, thank God.
After storing my things in the coatroom, I wandered behind the front desk and waited for my shift to start. Check-in didn’t begin until three, so things were slow at the moment. Classical music filtered through the speaker system, and I found myself bored, wishing I could slip a little salsa music on. Liven things up a bit. Somehow, I didn’t think that would go over too well.
Staring up at the lobby’s enormous, rotating chandelier, I admired the way the crystal teardrops caught the sunlight, sending rainbow-colored rays dancing about the room. I’d never seen anything so gorgeous. Glancing outside, I blinked.
Never say never, Cal.
Hot Britches had pulled up in front of the hotel, and the darn bongos started up in my chest again. He climbed out of Big Betty, wearing his trademark ponytail, faded jeans, black leather jacket, and snakeskin boots. As he tossed his keys to Eduardo the valet, he jogged up to the door, his thigh muscles flexing all the way.
Franz the doorman shook Dylan’s hand, letting him into the lobby as he asked, “How’s your grandmother? Heard she was ill.”
“Nah, you know Grandma Cabrizzi. Can’t hear worth a damn, but she’s as feisty as ever.” Dylan pulled off his shades and slipped them into his coat pocket, chuckling. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”
“You do that.” Franz smiled and closed the door.
“Detective?” I managed. I hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.
His electric gaze swiveled around, locking onto mine, and my breath caught in my throat. God, he looked good. In only three days, I’d forgotten just how good. I thought about that amazing kiss and wondered if it had crossed his mind at all. But then I remembered how easily he’d accepted my no. It didn’t matter anyway. I didn’t want to be in a relationship, couldn’t afford to until I had some answers. So why did I have to keep reminding myself?
“Mac.” He gave nothing away.
“What are you doing here?” I strolled around the front of the counter and crossed my arms over my chest.
“I came to see how the job was working out and to update you on the case. Do you have a minute?”
I glanced at my watch. “Only a minute. Check-in starts soon.” I led the way to the sitting area, and he placed his hand on the small of my back to guide me. The heat from his palm seared my skin and I flinched, so he grabbed my elbow to steady me. Our eyes met, and he lowered his gaze to my lips. After a moment, I cleared my throat and sat.