No, I thought about where my life was leading me.
I gazed at the shadows.
I liked my apartment. That said, it wasn’t much to write home about, but since I wasn’t there often, it didn’t need to be.
The building was two-story and built in the fifties. The rooms were not spacious and there was no personality. Though, the last couple of years, the landlord had pulled out all the dull, uninspired bathrooms and kitchens and put in new dull, uninspired bathrooms and kitchens.
Not much, but it was something.
He’d also jacked up the rent.
Annoying but not surprising.
Recently, though, my unit had been getting a facelift that came all from me.
I had new cushiony, awesome furniture that invited you to sink in and stay forever (major discount from a person who used my services who knew a person who owned a furniture store). I had a new flat screen TV (ditto on the discount, as you know). Due to gift certificates from other “clients”, I had new kitchen implements (not that I cooked much, seeing as I was never home; still, gadgets were gadgets, and everyone needed as many gadgets as they could get), new bathroom towels and sheets (total lush—I should so totally have gone the way of expensive towels and sheets ages ago; alas, a bartender/barista couldn’t usually afford luxury).
Also due to my activities, I had more shoes and clothes in my closet and a collection of gift cards of a variety of denominations to restaurants, bars and movie theaters.
All payments for my services.
All making life that little bit sweeter.
I’d done the defensive/evasive driving course and kicked its ass. I was all over defensive/evasive maneuvers in a vehicle and could not wait to do the chase program. And with more practice at Zip’s and wisdom from Darius, I’d also cleared the house in C. Springs without killing one innocent.
This shit was it for me.
I loved doing it and I was good at it.
And it made life better in a variety of ways.
So I didn’t understand what was holding me back from going whole hog, getting licensed and putting out a shingle.
And maybe more importantly, with all that going so well, why did I think I was missing something?
That you could have someone good and clean and right.
Sadie’s words haunted me, yanking me back to the path I was avoiding, and I closed my eyes.
I had to get on making amends. I had to be certain, in my way, to make sure Sadie knew she was part of the family.
She seemed to be getting there.
But I’d sensed she wasn’t there entirely.
And tonight proved I was right.
On that thought, a knock came at my door.
I looked to the door. I didn’t want to get it. I had no cases brewing. I’d cleared the slate when Sadie’s shit hit so I could focus on that.
However, since I’d gotten home that night, my phone had been ringing. All the calls were from the Rock Chicks to natter about what happened and what we were going to do next about Sadie. So once I got the “all’s good” with Sadie, I’d turned off my ringer.
Now someone was at my door.
I knew one thing. Behind that door was not a Rock Chick. They all had their Hot Bunch boys at home and it was past bedtime. They would be nowhere near my door.
So it was probably someone who needed me.
I wished I had an office with a hotline. This hitting my pad business, interrupting me while I was sitting on my ass in a sexy dress in a dark apartment evaluating my life was not working for me. Not that that happened all the time, but once was enough.
The knock came again, and when I gave it time and there was more knocking, I knew they weren’t going to let up. So it would seem I had to haul my ass off the floor and tell them to take a hike.
This, I did.
Except when I got to the peephole, I saw Ren out there.
He wasn’t looking down the hall this time. He was looking at the doorknob as if he expected to hear the locks turning.
Fuck.
I pulled away from the peephole and rested my forehead against the door.
He knocked again.
Fuck!
Okay, I was Ally Nightingale. I figured whatever this was wasn’t going to be a lot of fun, but I didn’t shy away from anything.
