Across the room, the overhead lights highlighted his bronze hair and trimmed beard over what she knew to be a chiseled jaw. His lips were slightly pouty and his forehead wrinkled as he jotted in a notebook in a leather portfolio. She’d seen the expression before when he’d been studying.
If she asked him a question in the middle of his thoughts, no doubt it would take him a good ten seconds to answer. The funny thing was, he teased her about the same trait. Once she entered a laser-like focus zone, it proved difficult to escape.
Matt glanced up and tapped his pen to his chin. He stared directly at her, unseeing, deep in thought. Still, she quickened her steps so she wouldn’t be caught looking.
“Barrows,” a voice bellowed.
She flinched and turned around.
Darren Allen pointed at her as he sauntered in her direction. “I’m beginning to feel like the only belle at the ball who hasn’t been asked for a dance.”
“Excuse me?” She asked the question with a smile plastered on her face. If there were an actual dance scheduled during the conference, she’d feel no remorse skipping the event.
“You haven’t asked me for a meeting about investing.”
She pursed her lips. “Uh, I didn’t think your nonprofit invested in private research.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “True, true. But I like to foster relationships for the benefit of the cause. I know people...connections that I can arrange for you. I would like to hear what your research has uncovered.”
Movement behind her made her spin around. Matt stood at her side, one hand placed lightly at her back. He said nothing but offered her a small smile. She turned to Mr. Allen again. “Um...well, I need to attend the rest of the workshops. What about tomorrow? Perhaps at lunch?”
He nodded, ignoring Matt. “Lunch it is.” He strode off without a word.
“You’re seriously going to meet with Mr. Trust No One?”
She handed Matt his boxed dinner. “I know it sounds bad, but I can’t afford to disregard him. He is a big mover and shaker in the industry.”
“You can’t afford to misjudge him, either.” Matt sighed. “As soon as we’re done here, we’re picking you up some protection.”
“It’s not like I can get a gun at the drugstore.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “No, but you can get a prepaid phone, for starters. I know you want to wait until you’re back home to put your spare phone on your plan, but it’s not safe to be without any form of communication.”
He had a point. And it would be useful to be able to call Hank more often. Maybe he could get her some more cash or a prepaid Visa so she wouldn’t have to rely on Matt so much. “Fair enough.”
“And I’ll see what I can do about the rest. What if you spoke with that Allen guy over the phone?”
She leaned forward, processing what he’d said. “When we’ll be eating lunch in the same room tomorrow? Just a hunch, but it might come across as snubbing him.”
“If he’s overly sensitive, maybe.”
She gave her head a little shake. “I’m still jumpy after the Tower incident. Believe me, I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks, but I can’t afford to alienate the one person who might help save my job.”
He pulled back. “Save your job?”
She bit her lip. She’d said too much. “That might be exaggerating.”
“Izzy?”
“I told you Hank has dipped into his own retirement. He hasn’t said my job is on the line, but he spent all the extra money on upgrading our data security. If I don’t bring in any investors, I don’t see how he can keep going, and I’ll feel like it’s all my fault.”
“Maybe you should ask him. A good businessman plans for things to go wrong.”
She wasn’t even sure how she’d start such a conversation. Besides, it was her uncle, and it seemed like her responsibility to make sure he wouldn’t need to worry about such things.
“This is about your job,” Matt said. “If he’s a professional then it won’t bother him.”
Maybe he had a point, but she didn’t want to rock the boat. She never wanted Hank to regret hiring her. And how likely was it that her uncle had a backup plan if he had dipped into his retirement already?
Besides, she refused to consider moving or starting over again. Ever. Last night’s revelations further highlighted why she hated going from one place to another. If she hadn’t moved away to South Carolina, maybe she and Matt would’ve overcome the hurt and pride and revealed their feelings for each other years ago instead of after a sleepwalking adventure gone wrong. They would’ve never moved on from their feelings, and instead the attraction might’ve grown, might’ve blossomed, might’ve led to love and...
“Isabelle?”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted to eat. Must’ve been thinking about something good, judging by your dreamy smile.”
Heat rushed up her neck. “I heard they put brownies in the box.”
He laughed and waved her to the seat beside him. “Glad to know some things haven’t changed.”
If he only knew.
He opened the box lid. “Oh. Tuna salad. Haven’t had this in a while.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her stomach flipped a little at the thought.
“What’s the problem?”
“I don’t eat seafood.”
His mouth was already full, and the smell of onions and tuna hit her. “Since when?”
She opened the bag of nacho chips. “Since I started working in marine biology.”
Matt waved at everyone else. “Doesn’t seem to be bothering them.”
“Well, I’m not everyone else, am I? In some nations it’s the only food source, and that’s fine, but not in the US. They’re the wildlife of the sea.”
He raised an eyebrow with a half smile growing. “That sounds well prepared but totally not the Izzy I know. What’s the real reason?”
She sighed. He was the only person who knew her younger self well enough to call her out. “Fine. It sounds better than telling everyone I don’t want to eat what I look at all day. It sounds...immature.”
He laughed and winked. “I’ll keep your secret.”
She pointed at his portfolio. “What about you? I think a secret deserves a secret. What are you working on?”
He sighed. “My ideal work environment.”
“You don’t have that now? Aside from the occasional guest who puts you in mortal danger?”
He picked up the portfolio. “Things I would love to implement when I get the chance with my own place.”
“Your own place? You can’t implement whatever you want here?” She’d thought he loved his job. He took so much pride in it. She assumed he felt the same way she did about wanting a forever home, somewhere to settle down. After all, he grew up in the same house for his entire life before he left for college. Wouldn’t he want that again?
“No. A national corporation owns the hotel. And while I’m able to make tweaks, it can never be what I truly want—a place that puts Christian values above making a profit.” He sighed. “My brother David is building a new conference center near Pismo Beach. It seems like the perfect time to show my family what I can do so that maybe I can take over the management portion.”
California. She should’ve known he’d want to move closer to home. And while it was closer to Oregon, a drive to Pismo Beach would still be over thirteen hours, so not feasible for a decent relationship, even a long-distance one. She shoved a chip in her mouth to snap her mind out of going there.
“So, your entire family is coming here to do an interview of sorts?” She didn’t understand. They knew he was competent and had the degree and education. Did he really need to convince them?
“No, I told them to
come here on vacation.” He glanced at her. “Which it is,” he added hastily. “I’m just hoping they see I could really benefit their operation.”
“But they have no idea you even want the job?”
He shrugged. “Technically, no.”
She recognized the way he pulled his shoulders back. Matt’s pride was almost as strong as his biceps. She also remembered that when Matt set his jaw a certain way, it meant he didn’t want anyone’s opinion, and the matter was closed for discussion. Pulling his shoulders back was a precursor to the jaw move, which meant he was still listening and hadn’t shut her out quite yet.
“You need to tell them you want the job.”
“It’s already a family business. Everyone is involved but me. If they want me then they need to ask me.”
“What do you mean, everyone?”
Matt held his hand out and ticked off each finger. “Dad and David are both in construction. Luke is a developer, so he can give them advice on franchising and expanding, and James is a computer genius, so he’s setting up their intranet and customized booking software.”
“But if they think you love it here, how will they know—”
His jaw clenched. He pointed at the other attendees. “Looks like they’re leaving for the next session. You don’t want to miss out.”
She stared into his eyes, and as they softened, she couldn’t help but think she’d already missed out.
* * *
Matt looked at his watch. At this rate, the stores would be closed before they could purchase her pepper spray and a cheap phone. At the sight of Isabelle walking through the throng of attendees toward him, his shoulders relaxed while his gut tightened. When they’d spoken at dinner, a course of electricity had run through his body whenever she looked at him. A fire in her eyes that drew him closer...that made him think of pulling her into his arms and kissing her for the first time.
Isabelle waved at him. Matt averted his gaze to the taxis outside so he could compose his features and capture his thoughts. “Boy, that was a long day,” she said. “But totally worth it. You really didn’t have to stay this whole time—”
“Izzy, we’ve been over this. I wanted to.” Had her eyes somehow gotten bluer over the last hour? Matt sighed. “We need to hurry.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Hank ordered us a taxi.”
They stepped out onto the sidewalks. The air, heavy with moisture, slowed his breathing and forced his heart rate to slow down. The day was almost done, and he couldn’t wait to relax in his room and sleep...except for the small matter of Isabelle’s sleepwalking. He hadn’t figured out that problem yet. After a full day without any excitement, perhaps it wasn’t a risk tonight.
Isabelle leaned past him to peek around his shoulder at the cabs lined up at the curb. He inhaled and a light mixture of vanilla and violets wafted past him. How—after such a long day—could she still smell so good?
“Look. That cabdriver is standing outside his car. What if he’s waiting for us?”
“Probably.” Matt resisted taking her hand as they walked toward him.
“Barrows?” the man asked.
Isabelle grinned. “Yes. Thank you.”
Matt opened the door for Isabelle before the driver had a chance. He walked around the car and took a seat behind the driver’s. “Please take us to the pharmacy on Commerce before we go to the hotel.”
The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.
“Matt, you don’t have to do this.”
It hurt Isabelle’s pride to lean on other people. He understood that, probably better than most. But she needed a phone and some means of self-defense. “If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back when you get home.” Or at least try. That should ease her mind, but for Matt, it meant she’d have to call or email him once she got home. Then he would insist it was a gift. He’d be prepared by then with an interesting topic of discussion, and they would debate like normal, like the good ole days.
Isabelle pursed her lips. “Oh. Okay. I guess that’d work.” She sighed. “I hate being broke.”
Matt laughed. “I understand the feeling.”
The driver turned on Market Street. Matt hated when people told drivers how to do their job, especially when there were one-way streets and traffic patterns to consider, but this would take them in the opposite direction, toward the freeway.
Matt leaned forward. “I think you misunderstood. We want the corner of Commerce and Navarro.”
“Different way.”
Matt figured he’d say something like that. The meter caught his eye. “You didn’t start your fare.”
“Paid for.”
Isabelle also leaned forward, eyes wide. “Oh, but I actually care that my boss doesn’t pay too much. Please start it. I’ll make a note of how much it costs.” Her voice remained light and airy, but her tightened forehead revealed the restrained irritation.
The driver slapped the little black box and the red numbers indicated the fare had begun. Matt didn’t take kindly to cabdrivers making a bad name for the other hardworking drivers in the area. All it took was one guy overpricing.
Matt looked for the license so he could report him later. He had a few contacts in the city, so he felt certain he’d be taken seriously. The darkness in the cab made it hard to see, though. The streetlights reflected off the plastic covering the cabdriver’s identification. He squinted. The shape of the man’s face on the ID didn’t quite match the driver’s. Had the man recently lost weight?
The light reflected again, but this time a beam bounced off something metallic tucked underneath the man’s right leg. The driver dragged his hand to cover it but kept one hand on the steering wheel.
A gun.
Matt pulled back. He needed to remain calm. At face value, there was nothing to get upset about. San Antonio had an open carry law, though it seemed unwise and unlikely that a driver would actually hold the weapon while driving. They still drove in the opposite direction of the pharmacy. Only a couple more stoplights and they would be out of the tourist area and closer to the freeway.
“I changed my mind,” Matt said. “I want to go to Las Ramblas Restaurant.” They had just passed Hotel Contessa, where it was located. “You can drop us off here.”
The driver made no motion to stop. Isabelle’s eyes widened as she darted looks between Matt and the driver. “Pull over!”
“Listen, lady. Hush up and enjoy the ride.” The driver held up the gun and waved it at them. His menacing glare connected with Matt in the rearview mirror. “No sudden moves.”
Isabelle’s right hand was flicking her fingers in dramatic shapes at him. As if she was trying to communicate something with her hands. Her pinkie finger swung around, she pointed up, she made a fist, and then she pointed down. It vaguely registered as sign language, but he didn’t know what it meant. She jutted her chin forward and blinked hard at him as if that would help him understand.
The driver kept glancing up at him in the rearview mirror. Which meant he’d catch Matt if he tried to pull out a phone from inside his suit jacket. Matt gripped his black leather portfolio hard. The man would have a hard time shooting at them from the angle of the driver’s seat. They could try to jump out and roll while moving, but even at a slower speed, without padding, their clothes would be shredded. Isabelle wore a sleeveless blouse, so her shoulders would take most of the impact. Plus the risk of the cars in the adjacent lanes running over them was high.
“Who hired you?” Isabelle demanded. “We’ll pay you double.”
“After you were complaining about being broke.” The driver cackled as he pulled up to a red light. “Nice try, sweetheart.”
He’d lowered his guard. Matt swung the portfolio as hard as he could into the back of the guy’s head. The driver’s head smashed into the steering wheel, and the car screeched to
a stop. “Run,” Matt yelled.
NINE
Isabelle didn’t need to be told twice. She flung the car door open and jumped out as she heard Matt grunt. She spun to check on him and met the driver’s dark eyes. He lifted his arm, holding the gun. His shirt gaped, revealing a tattoo down the right side of his neck and down over his chest. Matt smacked the weapon hard with his portfolio.
She didn’t wait to see if he succeeded in knocking it out of the man’s hand. She ran to the sidewalk. Matt sprinted toward her as another cabdriver jumped out of the car in the lane parallel to theirs. Except the look on the other driver’s face gave her chills. He didn’t ask if she was all right. Instead he charged, lifting his arm.
Crack!
Matt’s hand grabbed hers and yanked as she ducked. Brick pieces shattered around her. They darted around the corner of the building. Matt pushed her behind the decorative trees. She let him pull her through the landscaping until they reached a metal bridge, except they didn’t go across. He veered right and they raced down curved steps.
Not again. What if the two guys with guns managed to corner them? But Matt was leading and knew the area. They reached what looked like another section of the River Walk. Across from the river, a dim glow from within glass walls looked like a restaurant, Las Ramblas. Except she didn’t see any diners. It was late on a weeknight.
“I wish the stairs led to that side of the river,” Matt mumbled. “We could’ve run into the restaurant. There’s not much for a while.” He kept his hand gripped around her palm, pulling her slightly.
They jogged past empty benches. “What was with the extreme gesturing?”
“Gesturing?” Oh. The sign language. “I was telling you we should jump out of the car.”
“How would I know that’s what you meant?”
“Ninth grade. We learned the alphabet in sign language.”
“You’re unbelievable. I don’t remember any of that.”
Texas Takedown Page 9