Chapter Twenty-Two

Even if I hadn’t seen her once before, I would’ve been able to identify Cass’s friend from a mile away. She looked just like she sounded on the phone—brassy hair, skin tight jeans, and perpetually snapping gum. She was also tapping a ring full of keys on her knee, and looking around suspiciously.

I approached her slowly, plastering my best nice-guy smile on my face. It required some effort. The drive out to the coffee shop hadn’t calmed me down at all. It had only served to make me more tense. This woman probably knew Cass better than anyone. If she had any idea of what I had just put her best friend through…I forcefully shoved the thought aside. I wouldn’t give her a reason to become suspicious. I had to concentrate on getting this woman to trust me enough to cooperate with me so I could make Cass safe.

“Blair?” I said softly, and slid into the seat facing her.

“Well…poop on toast,” she replied. “You are not what I expected.”

I watched her take in my exposed, tattooed forearms, and squint at my dark sunglasses.

I let myself chuckle. “Thank you.”

I pushed the sunglasses onto my head, and tried to look as innocent and as non-intimidating as I could manage. It’s no mean feat at my size. I could tell she was trying hard to read me. She continued to bounce the keys and scrutinize my face. I stifled a sigh. What was she looking for? The hero on the white horse? A clue as to why her best friend had run off with me on some seeming whim?

She’s going to be sorely disappointed.

The jangling of the keys intensified, and I placed my hand over top of hers to silence it. Blair pulled herself away quickly. She clutched the key ring to her chest and narrowed her eyes at me. I didn’t have time for games. I needed to get Cass somewhere before Monato realized she wasn’t dead. I wanted to rip the keys away from her and be done with it.

I went for charming instead.

I let my eyes soften and raised an eyebrow. I gave her my best crooked smile.

“I’m kinda in a hurry to impress Cass,” I told her.

“She’s never in a hurry.”

I gritted my teeth and held my smile in place. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“No.”

“I just really want to surprise her,” I said mildly. “And maybe sweep her off her feet.”

“You wanna give me a better explanation?” Blair asked without changing her expression.

I sighed. Charming wasn’t working. And maybe Blair didn’t want to bother with games either.

“No,” I replied with a shrug. “I don’t have time for an explanation. Nor do I particularly want to give you one.”

“Finally,” Blair said, visibly relaxing. “Some honesty. Is this about the other guy at the club? The one who she said drugged her?”

“Yes. And I promise you, I only have Cass’s best interests at heart,” I told her truthfully. “I might not even be the best option for that. But I’m the only one she has at the moment.”

I put my hand out, and Blair dropped the keys into it. I leaned over the table and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, and left her staring after me.

I was no less angry with myself, but I was happy to be on the move.

As soon as I got out to the car, though, I realized I had a problem. The big, red Parisienne was possibly the least inconspicuous car on the planet. I was going to have to find something more appropriate, and I wasn’t going to be able to use any of my usual connections.

“Nice car.”

I turned and saw Blair had followed me to the parking lot.

“Stands out, doesn’t it?” I replied wryly.

She nodded. “And it’s probably not going to be great on the road up to the cabin, either.”

“What do you drive?”

“A truck.”

I eyed her speculatively, and she shook her head.

“Uh uh. No way,” she stated.

“Please?”

“I said no way. I’m not driving that thing around,” Blair told me firmly as she gestured to my car.

I felt myself deflate. The events of the last forty-eight hours were catching up to me in a big way.

“Stop making that sad face,” Blair said.

“Sorry.”

She sighed. “All right. I might know somebody who’s looking to unload something that’s a little less…obvious. How much cash can you get ahold of?”

I pretended to shrug casually. “Some.”

She pulled out her phone, and in less than thirty minutes, my Parisienne was parked in her mechanic’s garage and I was on the road in my new vehicle.