Not really. A stranger was still out there somewhere, expecting her to cooperate. What was the protocol for dealing with a temporary bodyguard? “What does twenty-four/seven mean?”
“You’re an attorney. I think you’re smart enough to figure that out.”
“You can’t really expect to...to stay with me,” she protested. She needed more space in her life, more than the average person. Her mother, friends and both former boyfriends were all in agreement on that.
His eyebrows dipped low over his eyes. “Do you believe you were followed here?”
“No.” She swallowed, knowing the immediate response might be inaccurate. She couldn’t know for sure. She’d just admitted to two strangers that a man had followed her for days and she’d been none the wiser. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Did you drive here?”
She shook her head, forcing her gaze to remain on his eyes. Steady eye contact conveyed confidence, and she needed him to know she wasn’t always frightened of every shadow. “I thought a cab was the safer choice.”
“Probably right on that one. Safety in numbers, I guess,” he said, echoing her deciding thought.
She folded her arms over her chest. “How many women have you saved from stalkers?”
His eyebrows arched and his lips twitched into a half smile, but his voice was serious. “I’ve only been on the job here for two weeks. That makes you my first.”
She rolled her eyes to the dingy ceiling tiles over his head. “Grant assigned you to me because I’m with Marburg. He’s going through the motions for me, that’s all.” She fisted her hands in her coat pockets. “This was a mistake.” She’d find a way to navigate this on her own.
“Hey.” Mitch stepped closer, crowding her. “You came here for good reason. We can help. Personally, I think the boss would be within his rights to turn away anyone from your firm. But he didn’t. That’s not how he operates. Just because I’ve never done something doesn’t mean I can’t do it. I happen to know a few things about getting people out of trouble.”
“Then show me your skills,” she said, spreading her arms wide and then dropping them back to her sides. “What comes next?”
He’d better have some answers, because she was at an absolute loss. Another trickle of icy fear rolled down her spine. If she turned away from Escape’s help, the cab fare home would wipe out most of the cash in her wallet. She had more money stashed away at home, but not nearly enough to cover her expenses if the stalker didn’t give her access to her accounts. Trying to focus on what she could control, on choosing the best option out of the short and lousy list, she pressed her lips together and waited.
“One step at a time,” Mitch began in a soothing voice. “I’ll drive you home. I’ll walk through your place and make a decision after that.”
Him. In her apartment. An image popped into her head, confounding her. The studio space was almost too small for her. “What kind of decision?”
He gave her a pleasant smile she didn’t quite trust. “One step at a time,” he repeated. “Come on.”
“Where?” she asked as he turned his back. Faced with the view of his wide shoulders tapering to lean hips, her feet moved forward of their own volition. Her responses to him embarrassed her, made her feel too much like her mother—the woman who used anyone and everyone in her orbit. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me.”
“Okay.” He kept walking.
She followed. “I’m not a drama queen.”
“Got it.” He pulled open a door at the end of the hall, encouraging her to enter first. “Break room,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “I need to grab my coat and keys. Unless you changed your mind about staying for the band?”
“No, thank you.” She scolded the voice in her head that encouraged her to forget responsibilities and problems and dance all night with Mitch. “I have to be at the office early tomorrow.”
With a nod, he pulled a worn leather bomber jacket from a peg on the near wall and shrugged it over his shoulders. It fell into place as if he’d been born in it.
The burst of attraction zipped through her veins. She blamed it on some unruly, misplaced version of hero worship. He hadn’t even done anything but hand her a glass of water and introduce her to Grant. For all she knew this would backfire.
“Mr. Galway—”
“Mitch. We’re going to be inseparable for a while, Julia.”
He made it sound so ominous. And so tempting, she thought with a mental sigh. She ignored that hero-worshiping voice. “Right. Mitch.” She tested his name as he led her out the back door and into the dark night.
The void of the Delaware River stretching away in both directions startled her and she stopped short. She’d forgotten the club was perched at the end of a pier. On the opposite riverbank, New Jersey sparkled. Little more than the bass of the band was audible once the door closed behind them. She knew thousands of people were nearby, in restaurants and bars, condos and businesses, but right now, she couldn’t see any of them. The solitude was blissful.
The cool night air slipped under her coat and she shivered. Mitch stepped up and wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his warmth as they walked up the pier to the parking area across the street. Immediately, her body resisted the invasion of her personal space. Just her luck she’d get saddled with a touchy-feely type of buffer. “Do you have to touch me?”
“Relax, play along. If you were followed here, being with me will throw your stalker a curveball.”
Followed. One more fear to add to the heap, though the idea of putting the stalker off balance appealed to her. The jerk had demonstrated too much familiarity with her life and habits this afternoon. Giving in, she leaned into Mitch’s solid body as if she could truly count on a man she’d just met. No, it wasn’t smart, but it wasn’t forever. Her entire life had been one lesson after another proving she was better off handling things on her own.
Until now. It had been quite a blow this afternoon to realize she had no idea how to overcome a situation where her opponent operated so swiftly and effectively from the shadows.
“How do you think he found out so much about me in such a short amount of time?”
“That’s a tough question. I’ll need a look at the file you assembled.” Mitch’s fingers flexed on her shoulder through her coat. “We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” She had the impression he was holding back his real opinion of her and her situation. “You think he knows me.” Anxiety slid through her belly and she gazed out over the parking lot, expecting to see that orange cap. “Or maybe you believe I’m exaggerating the circumstances.”
His sharp inhale was followed by a vapor cloud as he exhaled into the cold night air. “You don’t hold back much, do you?” He slipped a key into the door lock of a classic muscle car and opened the door for her. “Slide in,” he suggested when she stood there waiting for his reply.
“Answer me,” she said. “Please,” she added a beat too late to be considered polite.
He laughed. “You’ll get answers. In the meantime, let’s get warm.”
She gave the car a long look. The glossy, midnight-blue finish reflected the nearby lights as if they were stars in the sky. Sinking into the passenger seat, she discovered supple leather upholstery and polished walnut accents on the dashboard, console and gearshift.
“I’m impressed,” she said when Mitch settled his tall frame behind the steering wheel.
“It loses points as a classic with the high-end upgrades rather than original features,” he said. “But I like it better.”
“Must