I hadn’t forgotten, but I wasn’t in the mood. “Get Patrick to do it.”
“He’s not here today.”
My jaw worked. “Fuck’s sake, then you do it, Adele. You know the goddamn drill. You’re better with people than I am anyway.”
“Who’s bitten your ass?” she yelled after me.
I slammed the door and hobbled to my car. The tires kicked up gravel as I floored the gas, tension riding me hard. I drove onto the freeway and cursed. Fuck’s sake. Bumper-to-bumper traffic crammed into every lane.
Christ. I loved most things about LA. The weather, the beaches, the pretty girls who skated up and down the beach path. But the traffic… that I despised. It was worse than London, and that said a hell of a lot.
The car crawled forward a few inches at a time, every half mile increasing both my irritation and guilt. I shouldn’t have left the briefing to Adele. It wasn’t her job. I’d make it up to her somehow. Maybe get her a day pass to that spa she often rabbited on about and a bottle of the French perfume she was so fond of.
When the traffic didn’t clear, I pulled off at the next exit in search of emptier roads and a bit more speed. My mind wandered. Goddamn Everly Lawson burrowing inside my head. What the fuck was that about?
I zipped through the streets, unsure of where I was headed and not knowing how to clear the fog in my head. In the past, when I wanted to calm the anxiety swirling in my gut, I’d sink several glasses of scotch and bury my dick inside a faceless woman, then fall unconscious, waking with a head full of regrets the next morning. I didn’t miss those times, but I sure as fuck missed the life I’d once had.
I steered the car left at a stop sign, then frowned as I realized where I’d driven to.
What the fuck was I doing in Wilmington?
Everly Lawson lives in Wilmington.
Stop! Just stop, okay?
I readied the car to make a U-turn. Then, almost as if the damn thing had a mind of its own, it pulled back onto the highway. The guy behind me leaned on his horn as I slewed right in front of him. I held up my middle finger in the rearview mirror even though I was the one in the wrong.
Knowing where I was headed, and unable to stop myself, I parked directly opposite Everly’s house, a small place synonymous with properties in this neighborhood. A couple of potted plants sat on either side of the steps leading up to the front door, and a kid’s bike was propped against the wall.
First voyeur and now stalker.
Go home, Palmer.
I put the car in reverse, but before the wheels had moved an inch, I caught sight of Everly striding over to me, arms swinging by her side.
Oh, shit.
I rolled down the window. “Hi.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here, Mr. Palmer?”
Fuck. I could hardly admit I’d sought her out like some creep. And for what purpose? Getting caught hadn’t been part of the plan. I’d just wanted… Christ, who knew what I wanted?
Dammit, Palmer, you should have executed that U-turn and gotten the hell out of here. Now what are you going to do?
“Um…” I gave her a wry smile and lied through my teeth. “We’ve had occasions where the applications we’ve received for kids to join our school have been… less than genuine, and the kids aren’t really the right fit. PFK Racing has strict acceptance criteria, and it’s my responsibility to make sure the spots are going to those children who really deserve it.”
Her eyes turned cold, and her jaw worked as she glared down at me. “Are you saying you think I lied about my circumstances when I completed your form?”
“No.” I held up my hands in a form of apology. “No, not at all. This is… just routine.”
“Routine? You’re saying it’s routine to spy on me.”
Shit. The hole I’d dug split wide open, and no matter how hard I scrabbled to cling on to the edge, I felt myself slipping. I should’ve just come clean. Too late now.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” she bit out. “Because from where I’m standing, it sounds exactly like that.”