She planted her feet and thrust up hard with her entire torso, bucking him off her so she could roll away and jump to her feet. He had tumbled to his side with a look of surprise on his face, but now he took his time standing up, and he didn’t look at her.
She had a hard time looking at him, too, although she tried to adopt a businesslike demeanor. “Not a triangle choke hold, but it’ll get me away from the stalker so I can run for help.”
“That’s good,” he said gruffly. He turned his back to her and walked to the corner of the room, where a basket of clean towels stood. He tossed one to her.
“Thanks.” She dabbed at the sweat on her neck.
When he turned back to her, he was again stalwart and confident, but not as aggressive in his stance as he usually was. A haunted look floated in the back of his eyes, something that went deep. What was it? Did it have to do with his sister? No, he’d had that look even before finding out about the stalker and telling her about his sister. He hadn’t had that look when she’d met him ten years ago, but it had been clouding his eyes ever since he had returned to Sonoma after quitting the border patrol. Did that have something to do with it? It made her want to help him heal from whatever had gripped his heart.
No. She couldn’t get involved with him.
She gave him a false smile. “We’re good, right?”
“What?”
“The k-kiss—” she had a hard time saying the word “—wasn’t a big deal. Just the heat of the moment.”
He seemed startled at first, then a look like relief relaxed his brow line. “Yeah. We’re good.”
The relief should have comforted her, but perversely, it created a buzz of irritation in her head. “Good.” She turned away from him and headed out of the room.
As she picked up her purse from the gym locker, her cell phone rang. She answered it as she exited the women’s locker room to meet Shaun near the gym entrance. “Hello?”
“Hi, Monica, it’s Phillip Bromley. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
“Not at all. I’m at the gym at the Rubart Hotel.”
“One of Patrick O’Neill’s hotels, right? Before he sold it to the Rubart hotel conglomerate?”
“Yes, have you been here?”
“Last year. It’s fantastic. Anyway, I’m calling to ask if we can reschedule our meeting.”
“Sure.” They decided on lunch the next day at Lorianne’s Café again.
As they were talking, she reached the gym entrance, and when Shaun saw she was on the phone, he moved a short distance away so she could finish her conversation. When she hung up, he asked, “You have a lunch appointment tomorrow?”
“At Lorianne’s Café. You’ll come with me?”
“Yes. Who are you meeting?”
She hesitated before admitting, “Phillip Bromley.”
His brow flattened. “I warned you to stay away from him.”
“Why? What do you have against him?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So you want me to offend a potential investor for the clinic, and the only reason you’re giving is, ‘because I say so?’ That’s not going to cut it.”
He glanced around. The main area of the hotel gym housed the treadmills and elliptical exercise machines, and they were almost all filled with people exercising since it was close to noon. He pulled her a little to the side.
He stared at the floor for a moment, his expression fierce. Then he said, “I think Phillip Bromley is the stalker.”
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