Page 70 of The Promise Of You

“You know where to find me.”

Yup. South access road in the morning, Easy Monday parking lot around noon, outside the high school at three in the afternoon, around Emerald Lake Resort at five, and tucked behind a copse near The Growler after ten at night.

He tucks his notepad and pen in an inside pocket. “I never thought I’d say this, but between you and me?”

What?

“You should hit 420. You need to calm the fuck down.”

Right. “Hey, Dec.”

“Yup?”

“Supposing I suspected someone of stealing from someone else, how would I go about it?”

He leans his impressive stature over my seat. “Supposing you’d grow up enough to not keep secrets from law enforcement, you’d get your thumb out of your ass and get to the station with specific, demonstrated information, and you’d let us take care of it.”

“Gotcha.”

twenty-three

Chloe

Samuel hasn’t answered the text I sent him yesterday asking how he was doing, so I’m assuming he’s not coming in today. This means my Easy Monday pit stop will have to wait until after I swing by the restaurant and get the day started.

“Great minds think alike,” I tell Corine as a matter of greeting. She’s here earlier than usual as well, chopping herbs. Eric comes in right after me. “Your usual from Easy Monday? How about you, Eric?”

Corine looks up from the marinade she’s preparing, and blushes. “Um… there’s someone in your office.”

Why is she blushing? Could it be Justin? What would he be doing here? What am I going to do if it’s him? And what if Samuel comes in? I swing the door to the office open and find a police officer occupying the whole space with his mere presence. His dark eyes pin me in place, and his stature is intimidating in a good way. The way you’d want a man of the law to be intimidating. The way, I might add, any man should be, if he’s to be intimidating.

I get where Corine is coming from.

“Ms. Sullivan, I’m officer Declan Campbell.” He gestures to my seat, so I sit down. Like I said, intimidating. Not going to question him.

“What can you tell me about the incident involving Samuel Reynolds and Justin King?”

Oooh, I don’t like this. Don’t like it at all. Specifically, I don’t like the word incident associated with what I consider to be my restaurant, at least for now. I play stupid and frown. “What… incident?”

He smirks at me, tilting his head. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

Ouch. Tall, dark, and handsome men in a position of authority and not wearing a wedding band should not show women they’re seeing straight through their lies.

It’s just plain cruel.

Luckily, I’m not interested, so I just make a mental note to not mess around with Officer Campbell and answer, “Oh, that incident. What about it?”

He sits comfortably back in his chair and produces a notepad and a pen. “What can you tell me about it?”

I blow raspberries. Really, what is there to tell? One asshole hit another asshole. I lift my shoulders. “Boys will be boys.”

“Mmm, I see.” He scratches his head. “Were you ever in any danger?”

I poke my thumb at my chest. Me? “Nah.”

“Mr. King seems to believe that he went to rescue you from a potentially dangerous situation.”

I squint. Mmm. “Did Justin say that?”

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