Page 27 of Desire
Alexia said you were asking about me. She won’t meet you. Please call me and tell me what you want. You have my number.
My fingerspoked eagerly at the numbers on the screen. My nerves stood on edge as I waited for the woman to answer. After the fourth ring, the call went to voice mail. I frowned. She should have picked up since she had left me the message not even a minute ago.
“Hi, it’s me, Holly Henderson.” Since she was playing coy, I thought it best to get right to the point. “Does the name Randolph Christmasring a bell? Please let me know. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
My phone rang shortly after I hung up.
“Hello,” I answered eagerly.
“Holly, where the hell are you? You’re late,” Kylie said.
“Shit,” I said, mostly because I’d just heard a beep while on the phone with Kylie, indicating someone else had just left a text. “Sorry, Kylie. I’ll be downstairs shortly,” I saidin a rush.
“How short is shortly?”
“Less than five minutes.”
“The clock is ticking.”
I ended our call and looked at my screen. The previous caller had texted me.Please do not call me again. Go away. Leave me alone.
“Shit!” I shouted loud enough to release my anguish.
I had to calm down. Kylie was still waiting, so I jumped into a pair of black jeans,a cream cable-knit sweater, and riding boots, grabbed my purse and room key and headed to the restaurant for our late lunch. I’d learned early in my career that when an avalanche of tasks that I needed to complete fell on me, I had to focus and do one thing at a time. First, lunch with Kylie. Next, attend the gala ball. Finally, call or locate Alexia and find out who the hell had called me and whythere was so much confusion regarding our meeting.
As I slipped into a crowded elevator, I pictured Gina as she gave me the lead on the house in Chattanooga. There had been something in her eyes. She knew something. I didn’t see it then, but I did now. Only as the elevator carried me up several floors to the penthouse restaurant did it occur to me that she was giving me a solid lead bornout of real knowledge. I had thought for sure that all I was going to find was some sort of low-rate brothel. But now things were heating up. I wanted to know why the mystery woman had such an extreme reaction at the mention of Randolph Christmas’s name. I kicked myself for how I’d played my last communication to her. I should’ve divulged nothing until we were standing face-to-face.
“Shit,”I muttered again as the doors opened at the floor I wanted.
If only I could walk away from learning the mystery woman’s connection to Randolph Christmas. But I was more determined than ever to find out.
