Page 12 of Serving the Maestro

“This snow is something, ain’t it?”

“Yes.” I gave the cabbie a vague smile as I swiped my card and added a tip. “I’m ready for the cold snap to end so we can start bitching about the heat and humidity.”

The man, somewhere in his forties, burst into loud laughter, creases fanning out from eyes the color of dark chocolate. His teeth flashed white against skin only a few shades lighter than his eyes as he smiled. “Spoken like a true New Yorker.”

I winked at him. “Born and bred. But the truth is we’d find people like that everywhere. We’re always going to complain about the weather.”

“True, true.” He nodded at my building. “Get your nice self on inside now, ma’am. Stay warm.”

He waited until I was almost to the door before easing away, and I couldn’t help but smile at the courtesy. From the corner of my eye, I saw somebody approaching the doors, and I hurried through, not wanting to block anybody but equally determined to follow my driver’s advice—stay warm.

As we passed through the lobby, I caught a glimpse of the man behind me. I took in the red scarf, and a dark coat out of habit. I thought of Burton for a split second, but immediately brushed it off.

Cam would have texted or called if he’d left about the same time I had, right?

My phone vibrated in my coat pocket, and I scowled as I pulled it out. I reached the elevator bank as I glanced at the name on the screen.

Cam.

Punching the number for my floor, I unlocked my phone. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. As I passed by an accent mirror, I caught a flash of the same man again, collar up, scarf wrapped around his neck.

Was it Burton?

The doors slid open. I darted into the car and hit the button to close the doors the second I cleared them.

A shadow fell across the tiles just outside the elevator, but the doors didn’t stop, and I breathed easier.

While my heart slowed to a normal rate, I checked the message from Cam.

Sorry, he was such an asshole, sweetie! Lunch tomorrow is on me!

I texted her back with a wry grin, and a simple heart emoji. Now that the date from hell was over, I could relax and hopefully convince my best friend to let this shit go.

The elevator stopped on the Mezz level. Retreating to the corner, I tucked my phone away. Two teens spilled into the car, giggling as they huddled together against the far wall. When the elevator stopped again, and they exited, I watched with some melancholy.

Had I ever been that young and carefree?

No. Not ever.

I hadn’t had the chance.

My mood was grim by the time I reached my floor.

The last thing I needed to see was the scarf guy when I exited.

But there he was.

He’d beaten me to my floor.

Was he stalking me?

His eyes flicked toward me, and nerves danced down my spine, my heart clenching.

I stopped and shoved my hand into my purse without any conscious thought.

The pepper spray fit neatly in my hand, and I pulled it out, holding it close to my leg.

“Are you following me?” I demanded.

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