href="#ulink_38426235-db15-56be-9de9-c51fbde3fbe0">Chapter 3
The next day, Gabrielle felt exhausted at work. She hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. But in her line of work, napping on the job was impossible. She’d had people to call and interview before appearances on the various shows that Cable Four produced. And she’d had to film her own show, Your Hour, and be upbeat while she was on air.
So she had done what she’d had to do. This had been a three-espresso day.
She didn’t particularly like the strong drink. In fact, she consumed it more as if it were medicine. A liquid shot of adrenaline. It gave her an extra jolt when she was beginning to get fatigued. It allowed her to get through her day.
And when she was finished and finally leaving the studio, she wanted nothing more than to head home and get in her bed. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She needed to visit her parents. Ever since her father’s heart attack, she stopped by often to see how he was doing and to help cheer her mother up.
Gabrielle rounded the studio building to the parking lot...then stopped up dead in her tracks. Was that Omar?
It took only a second for her to realize that it was. And the nerve of him. He was leaning his butt against her Mercedes!
She hustled forward. As she did, he stood tall. He was six foot one at least. And now, in the daylight, without his firefighting gear, she could take a better look at him.
He had a medium brown complexion. He had a round face, which was both sexy and boyish at the same time. He was clean-shaven, and had closely cropped hair. And his body...his biceps were exposed beneath his shirt, and she could see the defined muscles, even though he wasn’t flexing.
He was one seriously sexy man.
As Gabrielle got closer to him, she saw that he had a gold stud in his left earlobe. Figures, she thought. Was that on page one of the player’s handbook?
“Gabby,” Omar said, and gestured to her personalized license plate. “Figured this had to be yours.”
Would it be completely rude to simply get into her car and drive away? Why Omar was even here, Gabrielle had no clue.
She pressed her electronic key to unlock her doors. “What are you going to do?” Omar asked. “Take off without talking to me?”
“How can I help you?”
“So formal.”
Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
“I thought we discussed everything we needed to,” Gabrielle said.
“I’m not sure why we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Omar began. “But there’s a negative energy between us. I’d like to resolve that.” He extended his hand to her, and offered her a charming smile. “Omar Ewing. Lieutenant at Fire Station Two. Pleased to meet you.”
Gabrielle shook his hand. “Gabrielle Leonard.”
“I realize you were upset because I judged you wrongly,” Omar said. “And for that, I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” She started toward her driver’s side door.
“Whoa, wait a second.” When Gabrielle turned to look over her shoulder at Omar, he said, “That’s it? You’re taking off?”
“I... I have an appointment.” Not that it couldn’t wait. But being near Omar caused her heart to beat quickly, and she was feeling suddenly flustered.
“All right. I’ll be quick. You said you got a look at the guy you think is the arsonist. So I’m thinking it would be a good idea for the two of us to meet so that we can discuss whatever else it is that you’ve learned. Perhaps combined with what the arson investigators know, we might be able to finally take this guy down.”
“All right,” Gabrielle said slowly. “I’ll give you my card. You can call my assistant tomorrow. Make an appointment.”
Omar chuckled softly. “Call your assistant? I was thinking more like we could go to dinner.”
Now Gabrielle was the one to laugh. Finally, she understood. “So you’re here to ask me on a date?”
“A working date, if you will.”
Predictable... He wanted another notch on his bedpost, and he had set his eyes on her.
“You can pick the place,” Omar said. “We could do this tomorrow, if you want.”
“Mr. Ewing. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He made a face. “Excuse me?”
“I know what you really want.”
Omar folded his arms over his brawny chest, and his biceps grew exponentially. He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Really? What do I want?”
“Dinner?” Gabrielle scowled. “Does that work with all the women you hit on?”
His eyes widened. “You think I’m hitting on you?”
The way he said the words caused her jaw to stiffen a little. Though the reason was beyond her. She shouldn’t be offended if he wasn’t actually hitting on her. Because she didn’t want him to hit on her.
And yet there was this itty-bitty feeling in the pit of her stomach that felt like rejection.
Or maybe it was just humiliation. Was she jumping to conclusions where Omar was concerned? Just like he had with her last night?
“If you really want to discuss the case, we can do it at my office.”
“But dinner would be so much nicer.”
Gabrielle knew his game. And just seeing him here had her unsettled. Her heart was still beating fast, and she had this odd sensation coursing through her body.
She didn’t like it.
All she knew was that if she never saw Omar again, that would be the best thing for her.
“If I recall, you mentioned something yesterday about how I should go to the police with whatever I knew,” she said. “I think that makes the most sense.”
“Or, you and I could discuss what you think you know, then I can advise you on whether or not we should go to the police with it. I am a firefighter. I’m not some schmuck off the street.”
No, he certainly wasn’t. He was six foot one or so of hot black man. And that was the exact problem with him. Gabrielle could totally see herself losing focus around him. Because for the first time since Tobias had left her, she was feeling a stirring in her gut.
And that was the last thing she wanted. Especially with a man like Omar Ewing.
“I didn’t say you were a schmuck.”
“Sorry,” Omar said, offering her a smile. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“I really do have to get going.” Gabrielle was hoping that she could slip away before he realized that she hadn’t actually agreed to a date with him.
“You know what I really don’t understand,” Omar began. “Why you were at the scene of the fire hoping to nab the arsonist without any help from anyone at your cable station. The more I thought about it, it made more sense for you to go to the scene with someone who had a camera. You might have been able to get the suspected arsonist on film without him knowing.”
“When I heard about the fire, it was late,” Gabrielle explained. “Far too late to wake up any of our cameramen. So I just went to the scene of the fire on my own.”
“What about someone else? A friend or boyfriend or husband who could have been there with you.” He paused. “Didn’t it occur to you that trying to go after the arsonist on your own could be dangerous?”