Her front door buzzer sounded and she capped the tube of lipstick, dropping it into her evening clutch. Time to make another attempt at refining the rather abstract concept of her personal life. Whether or not the evening went well, it was a plus to have a hot date to an A-list party. Shed even convinced herself she wasnt offended that her date had probably only asked her out in hopes that hed get an inside track to her well-known father.
She opened the door without looking through the peephole and found herself face-to-face with the man shed been daydreaming aboutParker Lawton, accused thief. For a moment she gawked at him. She decided the photographer had been a hack to only catch the glint in his eyes. The mans allure drew her in despite his casual khaki work pants, faded blue zippered sweatshirt and black ivy cap. In her heels, she was nearly eye level with him, and the intensity in his dark chocolate gaze muddled her thoughts.
Pardon me
She pushed the door closed on his greeting and he stopped her, wedging his booted foot into the space. Youre not welcome here. She gritted her teeth and put all her weight into the effort of squishing his foot.
Steel-toed, he said calmly. Cant even feel it. I just want to talk.
Not tonight. Ill call you tomorrow.
Pardon my skepticism. You havent returned any of my calls or emails. Can I have five minutes?
No. She shoved at the door again. Im on my way out.
With this guy?
He stuck a cell phone through the space and showed her a picture of her date at the elevator downstairs.
What did you do?
Bought myself five minutes.
The stunt only confirmed that he was willing to fight dirty. You have no right to be here. She leaned into the door again, despite the lack of progress. How did you find me? She had an unlisted number and the apartment was rented under the networks corporate account.
Its what I do, he replied. Look, Ive heard someone is trying to cause trouble for me and some friends. Can you just confirm if youre working up a story on me and the men I served with in Iraq?
Working up a story? Her temper caught like a match to paper. They dealt with facts, not fiction. Im a producer, not a reporter, she replied with the last thread of professionalism.
Not buying the obtuse routine, red.
Red, ha. As if he was the first to try and get away with that nickname. She was far more than the hair and freckles, and many a man had learned that the hard way. Ill be smarter tomorrow. At the office, she added, clipping each syllable.
He leaned into the door, making it clear he could force his way in at any moment. Tell me who told you to look into my team.
Never, she vowed. Thats Journalism 101, Mr. Lawton. I will not reveal a source.
Youre a producer, not a reporter.
Still applies.
The elevator at the end of the hall chimed an arrival on her floor. Guess your times up, Mr. Lawton.
His boot was gone and without it the door snapped shut before she finished the sentence. She opened it again to find the hallway empty except for her date, striding forward with an eager smile.
Clutching her evening bag, Becca did her best to match his pleasant expression while she willed the heat of temper to fade from her cheeks. Her date chattered aimlessly as she locked her door and they walked down the hall. She slid her hand into his at the elevator, knowing Lawton had to be close. Telling herself it wasnt misplaced paranoia didnt change the sensation that the man was watching her. He knew where she lived and she didnt trust him not to try something else.
She clung to the fact that soon shed be out of his view and his reach. No sane man would dare make a move while she was with her date and surrounded by people at the awards gala. And afterward? The idea of coming home alone sent a little shiver of trepidation down her spine.
Well, shed cross that bridge when she reached it. For now, she would focus on her personal life.
Beaming a high-wattage smile at her date, she set out to enjoy the evening.
* * *
OH, THAT SMILE on her face irked Parker. He hadnt found anything during his recon of Rebecca Wallace, award-winning producer, that indicated a romantic attachment worthy of that heart-stopping dress and killer heels.
He waited until they were gone to move out of the alcove near the stairwell. He was an idiot for confronting her at her door. But he was getting desperate. The bizarre blackmail note had arrived yesterday, claiming media outlets had been notified last week, and granting him five days to make restitution for the gold he and his team stole from an Iraqi family or the men listed at the bottom of the single page would be killed one by one.
Theo Manning, Jeff Bruce, Franklin Toomey, Matt Donaldson and Ray Peters were more than soldiers. They were friends. The six of them shared a bond forged on several challenging assignments during Parkers last deployment. Together theyd handled a sensitive intel-gathering mission near the Iranian border. While it might have been easy to learn theyd all served in Iraq, it shouldnt have been as easy to connect them as part of the same team on that operation.