Roman

by Roman (retail) (epub)

  “I get it, Olivia, I really do. However, did you ever think that maybe you were too close to solve it?”

  She gazed at him and shook her head—another lie. At first, she’d thought she could separate herself from it, but it had become apparent she couldn’t.

  “It’s hard to look at something like this with an open mind when you have so much at stake.”

  Maybe he was right. Maybe these past couple of months had been nothing but a waste of time and resources for everyone, all because of her need to solve her sister’s murder. Perhaps she’d just been really selfish.

  The captain sat back in his chair. “Anyway, I’ve got a guy I’ve used before who does a good job at profiling.”

  Her stomach turned, knowing exactly where the conversation would lead. She was out, and someone else would take her place. “Who does he work for?”

  “Private guy. His name’s Noah Johnson. He works with a lot of police departments in the U.S., and from what I understand, even has a global reach.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him, trying to think if she’d ever heard the name before, but didn’t recognize it. “I’ve never heard of him.”

  “Well, after I talked to your boss and he told me he’s pulling you off, I needed to get someone else on it. He’s huge—stands somewhere around six-foot-eight. If you had met him, you’d remember him. The guy and his team do good work.”

  A wave of defeat rolled through her. If she had to go out, she didn’t want it to be like this.

  “He doesn’t work here in the office, so everything that’s not already in the system needs to be scanned and emailed to me. That includes your personal notes, Olivia.”

  She smiled, trying to hide her irritation. It seemed she would spend the rest of her late Saturday afternoon standing in front of the scanner and copier, and then packing up everything in the room. As she looked around, her fury grew.

  Her phone ringing distracted her, and she picked up her bag to find it before it went to voicemail. She had a feeling she knew exactly who would be calling.

  “That’s probably the boss man, Olivia. I’ll leave to let you two to talk in private.”

  She nodded and waited for him to leave the room before answering.

  “Hi, Raymond.”

  “Hello, Olivia. Has the captain talked to you?”

  She shut her eyes and placed her forehead in the palm of her hand. “Yes.”

  “Needless to say, I’m pissed.”

  As she listened to him tell her all the reasons her actions had upset him, she took deep breaths and tried to calm her anger and despair as her hands shook and her stomach rolled. Looking up at the faces on her board and listened to what her boss had to say from halfway across the country, her brow furrowed. Despite her disappointment at being taken off this case, the alternative job he offered sounded very interesting.

  When she hung up the phone, she stared at it for a while. Yes, a bit of excitement at her new assignment bubbled in her, but anger also rose at the thought of letting the old one go. With those two emotions swinging within her, she almost didn’t answer the phone when it rang again.

  She sighed. Her sister’s roommate, Bailey. She picked up on the last ring before voicemail would kick in.

  “Hey, Bailey. What’s up?”

  “We’re heading out to the Black Cuff again tonight. I know you took off early last night, but I thought I’d see if you wanted to go, anyway.”

  No sat on the tip of her tongue, but then she recalled the kiss from the previous night, and wondered where that would have gone.

  She didn’t have to work tomorrow. In fact, she’d be packing her meager belongings in a suitcase tonight and leaving the Phoenix area early in the morning. Maybe cutting loose a bit would do her some good, even if the Black Cuff wasn’t her scene. She could either go with Bailey, or sit in her studio apartment and sulk.

  “Sure. I’ll go for a little while.”

  “Great! We’re going to get there around eight.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  After setting down the phone, she stood and stretched and walked over to the victim board. As she took down the pictures and packed them in a box, she couldn’t help but grin.

  Usually, she avoided places like the Black Cuff, but tonight, she needed to burn off some steam. She’d just been reamed by her boss, but then, he’d given her such an exclusive assignment. Maybe the new job would be really bad and he was using it as her punishment, but he’d tried to sugar-coat it for her.

  She pulled her sister’s picture from the board and stared at it for a long time.

  Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry, Vicky. I tried. I really did.”

  Taking a deep breath, she yearned to destroy the room—overturn tables and chairs and burn the place down.

  Yes, she definitely needed to relieve some stress, and her thoughts turned to Roman for the hundredth time today.

  Would he go back to the Black Cuff tonight?

  A chill went down her spine. She’d find out in a few short hours.

  Chapter 7

  Roman decided to get to the Black Cuff a little early so he could grab a good barstool that would allow him to see the entrance without hindrance. When he found his spot, he ordered a beer and stared at the door.

  Not too many people had arrived at eight, yet the music thumped, the strobe lights swung around, and some early partiers had hit the dance floor. The servers took drink orders from the other patrons or talked by the corner of the bar as they waited for their orders to be filled.

  The longer he sat there, the more certain he felt she would be here. He couldn’t explain why, but the butterflies of anticipation fluttered in his stomach. Perhaps seeing her had been fated by the gods. He just didn’t know how long he’d have to plant his ass on the barstool.

  At eight-thirty, he finished his beer, his gaze never leaving the door.

  “Can I get you another one?”

  He glanced at the bartender, a guy in his late twenties with blue and white hair who wore a leather vest and pants. He had three diamonds in his right ear and a large hoop in his left.

  “Yes, please.”

  He looked back at the door, and just as the bartender put his beer down in front of him, he saw her.

  Tonight, she wore a long-sleeved black shirt, her blue jeans fitting like a second skin. She confidently strode in on three-inch black heels and wore a touch of red lipstick. She seemed even prettier tonight than she had previously.

  As she made her way up the stairs, he turned so he could watch her. When her friend headed for the other side of the bar, he willed her to look his way.

  Her head turned slightly, almost as if she sensed him, then their gazes met. He grinned, and a small smile played on her lips. His heart thumped in his chest double-time as she walked toward him with long, self-assured strides.

  He got up from his barstool, and she stood the same height as him as he gazed into her pretty, hazel eyes.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello, Roman.”

  They stared at each other for a beat, then he motioned to the barstool next to his. “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

  She slid onto the seat and nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “If I remember correctly, vodka and soda?”

  Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t buy me a drink last night. How did you know that?”

  He motioned the bartender over, then leaned in so his lips almost caressed her ear. “Because I tasted it when we kissed.”

  As he took a deep breath, her lightly flowered scent made him light-headed.

  “What can I get you?”

  Roman turned to the bartender. “I’m fine. This lady would like a vodka and soda.”

  They sat in silence as her drink was poured, the thumping of the music sending vibrations up from the floor into his chair, giving his cock a bit of a pleasant ride.

  When they had been left alone, he turned to her and placed his lips next to her ear again so he could be heard above
the music. “I thought I would see you here again tonight.”

  She brought her glass to her lips, her eyebrows arched. Then, she leaned into him. “Really? Why did you think that?”

  He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

  She studied him a moment, then looked around. “Who are you here with?”

  He smiled, wishing he could press his mouth to hers again. “You.”

  She didn’t take her gaze off him as she sipped her drink. Finally, she bent toward him. “You were lucky. Places like this really aren’t my scene. Too loud, and the music is crap.”

  He laughed, as he’d just been thinking about how noisy it suddenly had become while he tried to concentrate on the beautiful woman next to him. “Do you want to go somewhere else? Somewhere quieter?”

  She looked him up and down, and he could see the questions in her gaze. Was he crazy? Was he some lunatic killer who lured women to their demise? Or should she trust her instincts and go with him?

  “I promise I’m just a normal guy, Olivia from Virginia. It’s loud in here, and I’d really just like to go somewhere quiet and have a conversation with you.”

  Well, normal besides the alien factor.

  After a moment, she nodded. “Where did you have in mind?”

  He briefly considered his options. Since he’d been patrolling the city, he knew just about every establishment around, and he’d frequented most of the bars. He recalled a small place about a block over. Cozy, clean, quiet, and soft jazz wafted from the speakers. It would be perfect.

  “There’s a small bar up the street. They play jazz—not live, but it’s a nice place.”

  She grinned. “You had me at the mention of jazz. Let’s go.”

  Olivia walked next to Roman, her arm casually draped through his. She liked that he stood at her height, even with her heels on. It could be hard being so tall and always having to look down at her dates.

  Not that she dated much.

  It had been a long time since she’d done something this reckless, and she supposed by modern-day standards, it wouldn’t be considered as such. Maybe she was old-fashioned, or just too damn busy to be careless in her personal life—probably the latter.

  She’d really put her schooling and career first throughout her life, but that was because of her past.

  On her tenth birthday, social services had come in and taken her and Vicky away from their mother. It had been horribly difficult for them, even if their mother had been a crack head. She’d never forget the screams of fear from Vicky and her own hot, burning tears of anger as the authorities led them away while their mother just stood in the living room with a pipe in her hand, a blank stare in her eyes. She never even fought for them, and that had been the last time they’d seen her.

  Neither she nor Vicky knew their fathers, only their last names, and they didn’t know of any other family—their mother had never spoken of relatives. Thankfully, the state of Virginia had been able to keep them together as they’d traveled from foster home to foster home, and Olivia never let go of the firm desire to be a better person than her mother, and to take care of her sister.

  In one particular home, the woman, Mrs. Crease, had been a bit older and widowed. All of her children had grown and left, and she’d doted on the girls as if they were her own. She served all of their meals hot, they always had freshly washed clothing, and she made sure they did their homework and really put effort into their school work. When she’d realized how easily school came to Olivia, she’d had her tested for the honors program. When Olivia had been accepted, Mrs, Crease had encouraged her and told her that she didn’t have to live like her mother, that she could be more and do whatever she wanted in life. For someone who felt like her daily existence was a struggle, it had been nice to have someone in her corner, pushing her to do better and to become someone more than where she’d come from.

  At age sixteen, she’d graduated from high school. By twenty, she’d gone through college and came out with a degree in psychology. By twenty-two, she’d had her Master’s Degree in criminology. The FBI had stepped in and scooped her up without hesitation, and she’d been working with them for the past five years.

  If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Crease taking care of them and believing in them until they turned eighteen, Olivia never would have had the self-confidence to believe she could accomplish what she had.

  The woman had died two years ago, but Olivia still lovingly thought of her quite often.

  They arrived at the bar a few minutes later, and Roman ushered them into a booth in back. As she slid in and looked around the place, she knew she’d be coming back. Low lighting cast shadows over dark green walls that held black and white pictures of Phoenix and Las Vegas in the early days as the cities struggled to grow, despite the crippling summer heat.

  Their server wore a crisp white shirt and black pants as she took their order, and Olivia chuckled after she left.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was just thinking that the woman had a shirt that covered her chest, while just a block away, it’s nothing but boobs.”

  Roman smiled, and her heart fluttered a bit as she studied him. With those looks, he had to do some modeling or acting.

  “What do you do, Roman?”

  “I’m in a special branch of the military.”

  Well, she hadn’t expected that—so much for her model theory. Some profiler she was. “Really? Which one?”

  His grin lit up his eyes with mischief. It disarmed her and sent a pleasant little chill down her spine.

  “The special one, which means I’m really not at liberty to say.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  And she did. She’d worked with enough military to know that some of them couldn’t discuss their jobs, where they worked, where the traveled to, or even what their daily lives entailed.

  “What about you, Olivia from Virginia? What do you do?”

  On the other hand, she didn’t like revealing what she did for personal reasons. It often led to numerous questions that she couldn’t answer, which meant tense conversations.

  “I work for the government.”

  He looked at her as if he expected more of an answer. When he didn’t get one, he asked, “Doing what?”

  “I work for them in a mental health aptitude. My job differs from day to day.”

  “So … does that mean you make sure that the leaders of our nation are sane?”

  She laughed. “Something like that.”

  He smirked, one side of his mouth turning upward in the sexiest smile she’d ever seen.

  “No offense, but I think you may be failing at your job.”

  Chuckling, she nodded. “Sometimes, it seems that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Do you do a lot of traveling, as well?”

  “I do.”

  “So, do you call Phoenix home?”

  She tilted her head and stared at her glass for a moment, realizing that at that very second in time, she didn’t have a home. The apartment she had now hadn’t been her home, just a place to rest her head, paid for by the government. All of her belongings in Virginia sat in a storage bay. She would be leaving the Phoenix area early in the morning to parts unknown. No, at the moment, she truly could call herself a nomad.

  Turning her gaze to him, she tried to smile past the feeling of emptiness that suddenly caused her chest to ache. “No, I guess I don’t. I was here on some family business, but I’ll be leaving soon.”

  His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Now that I’m sitting here getting a chance to talk to you, I would like to get to know you better.”

  Grinning, she took a sip of her drink as her cheeks burned. It had been a long time since anyone had complimented her looks. She spent a lot of time at work, and things like that had always been frowned upon. But she had to admit his words sent a th
rill through her tonight. “Are you always so forward?”

  He shrugged. “I just call them how I see them.”

  There seemed to be something different about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Yes, he was devastatingly good-looking, and she found his blunt honesty refreshing. However, her attraction to him confused her. He seemed to be in his late twenties, yet, his sexy smile seemed so pure, like he hadn’t been exposed to the harsh reality of life on Earth for very long. Perhaps he’d been one of those kids who grew up in a normal, stable home.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” she ventured.

  He shrugged and sat back in his seat, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “There’s not much to tell. I had a loving mother and father. No brothers or sisters. I went into the military, and here I am.”

  “You said ‘had.’ What happened to your parents?”

  A flash of sadness crossed his face, but he recovered quickly. “They were killed in an accident.”

  She furrowed her brow, feeling awful for him. At least, she really didn’t remember her mother all that well. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It is what it is. What about you? How did you grow up?”

  It was painful for her to talk about, so she gave her standard answer. “I grew up with a half-sister. My parents weren’t around.”

  His face fell as he stared at her, as if he thought her childhood was the biggest tragedy he’d ever heard.

  “Now, I’m the one that’s sorry.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments as she contemplated her non-answers, almost feeling bad about them. For some reason, she wanted to be completely honest with Roman and not lie by omission. Doing so had only gotten her into trouble.

  But in the end, what did it matter?

  She’d be leaving in the morning, and she’d never see him again.

  They talked and laughed for another hour, discussing everything from best potato chips—Cheetos for her, Doritos for him—good restaurants in the city, and which Avenger movie was their favorite. They talked easily, and it almost seemed like she spoke to a friend she’d known for a long time.