Page 115 of Luck of the Devil
Was this like a Fatal Attraction situation? Or was the woman not his mistress at all? The latter was starting to seem more likely. “I’ll wait until after we talk before I make a decision.”
“Okay,” he said, “That’s okay. Do you want me to come to you?”
There was no way I could suggest the factory. After the tone of our conversation, it would make him suspicious enough to cut and run. I needed him to think I was behaving as his daughter, not as—what? An ex-officer of the law?
A vigilante?
I shoved the last thought down, knowing I needed to trust my gut, but the question was where we could meet and still have James hiding in the shadows.
“Neither of those places,” I said as it came to me. “Meet me at Mulberry Park in thirty minutes.” Then I added, “At the playground.”
He paused. “Why there?”
“Because if you’re so worried about your non-mistress, then we should meet somewhere more discreet.”
“And because…” His voice broke off. He recognized the real reason.
“Just meet me there,” I said. “I won’t wait long.”
I hung up and slid out of the booth, rushing over to the bar. James was pulling a draft beer, and his eyes jerked up in surprise when he saw me.
“We need to go,” I said. “I just talked to my dad and told him to meet me in thirty minutes.”
He nodded slightly. “Okay.”
“There’s something else.” A wary look crossed his face, and I braced myself for the fight I knew was coming. “We’re meeting at Mulberry Park.”
His entire body stiffened, and he leaned in, lowering his voice to a growl. “The fuck we are. Call him back and tell him there’s been a change of plans.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You can either go with me to Mulberry Park, or you can stay here.”
His eyes burned, his fury barely contained. “I can keep you from goin’.”
The promise held an edge of danger, and I had no doubt he could do just that. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I steeled my back. “I’d like to see you try.”
His jaw tensed and a vein in his temple began to pulse. James Malcolm wasn’t used to people defying his orders, and when they did, I was sure they often paid dearly for it.
But as I studied his chiseled face, I wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Pissed, sure. Frustrated? Definitely. But not afraid.
“Look,” I said evenly, “we can fight about this, or we can move forward with the new plan and work it out as we go.” When he didn’t respond, I took a different tactic.
“James,” I said softly. “I need you to trust me on this.”
A war waged in his eyes, but his face softened a little, even though it was obvious he was still pissed. "Then I guess we should get goin’.”
Chapter 30
Malcolm handed the beer he was pulling to the other bartender and told him he was leaving while I scooped up all the papers and laptop. I took them back to the office, unsure what to do with the paperwork.
“Where’s your safe?” I asked when he appeared in the doorway.
He stalked toward a painting of a landscape on the wall and swung it open to reveal a safe. After he entered the combination, the safe door swung open, and he reached out his hand.
I started to hand him the paperwork, then hesitated. “Are you going to give this back to me?”
His eyes darkened, and his hands clenched at his sides. “You think I’d keep it from you?”
