Reluctant Hero. Debra Regan
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tonight,” Lucy said, her eyes traveling over the guests. “I would’ve been happy to introduce you.”
That derailed Becca’s wandering thoughts. “You did? Why?”
Lucy tipped her head toward her husband, pure happiness shining in her eyes. “Because Rush invited him.”
For a moment Becca’s mind reset the evening, inserting Lawton as her date, replacing tepid compliments with witty banter and a discovery of mutual interests. The man probably had a tuxedo tailored to his impressive physique. Stop it. His wardrobe wouldn’t make any difference, she decided. If he’d been here, as her date or as a guest, he would have harangued her for the name of her source. Still better than dodging Mr. Grab Hands all night, a small voice in her head pointed out.
“How do they know each other?” Becca asked.
“Goes back to high school, I think,” Lucy replied. “Although I didn’t get the impression they were particularly close then. If you need a character endorsement, I’ll go on the record that Parker’s a stand-up guy.”
“Huh.” It seemed the safest response Becca could offer. Sticking a boot in her door wasn’t a stand-up kind of move in her book, but Lucy didn’t toss out character references willy-nilly.
“What’s next for you at the network? I know you were eyeing a move up the ladder.”
Becca mimed locking her lips and tossing away the key. “I’m happy where I am. Tell me what’s next for you. Off the record.”
Lucy’s lips curved into a smile packed with barely leashed secrets. She drew Becca a few steps away from the nearest guests. “We’re expecting,” she said, eyes twinkling. She smoothed a palm over her trim waistline as her eyes darted around to make sure no one was watching them. “I’ll be showing soon.”
“That’s wonderful,” Becca said. “You must be thrilled.”
“We’re well beyond thrilled and floating somewhere in the galaxy of obnoxiously happy parents-to-be. I feel a little sorry for everyone who knows us.”
Becca gave Lucy a heartfelt hug. “You’ll be amazing parents. The rest of us will have to get used to a new, impossibly high standard.” When she saw Lucy tearing up, she added, “I may just have to tip off one of the gossip sites.”
As she’d hoped, her friend laughed out loud and the sheen of tears vanished. “You don’t have such low friends.”
“Of course I do,” she protested. “I just keep them stashed in LA.”
Lucy laughed again and, as Rush walked toward them, Becca promised to take her for a spa day soon.
Sipping the rest of her champagne, she made a game of staying out of her date’s sight, making new friends as she worked her way around the room. She should just go home, though she wasn’t ready to be alone and she didn’t feel right about intruding on Lucy and Rush. Desperate for a distraction, she found a quieter spot and sent a text message to Bill, asking about the interview with Theo Manning.
Bill replied immediately, explaining Manning had been a no-show.
She should tell him about Lawton’s visit and had her fingers poised to do just that when she changed her mind. He’d only insist she move in with him for a couple of days. Not happening. She’d be better off getting a room here at the hotel for the evening.
When Bill asked, she shared how well the evening was not going with Mr. Grab Hands. Welcoming the snarky replies, she was soon chuckling at herself for this latest failure at establishing a personal life. Her eyes landed on Rush and Lucy on the other side of the mezzanine and she sighed.
Love was lovely for them. Becca just wasn’t cut out for the interpersonal stuff. She had her career to love. She had a stable of reporters who gave her plenty of ups and downs to juggle. She’d pit a moody reporter against the grumpiest toddler any day of the week. It might not look like a standard life, but it was hers.
Wishing Bill a good night, Becca went to find one more glass of champagne before going to the front desk to book a room. Better alone in a posh suite than home wondering when Lawton would come back and knock down her door.
* * *
AT HIS PLACE, Parker finished shaving and dressed for the gala. It seemed every breath was a new battle to keep his grief at bay. With a last check of his appearance, he decided it wouldn’t get any better tonight. He grabbed the go-bag he kept ready in the coat closet, added another change of clothes and a rain jacket considering the season. Parker planned to be a much harder target for the assassin who had double-tapped Theo. Packing up his computer, he left his apartment, one eye searching for anyone too interested in the building or himself. He thought longingly of the SUV he’d had armored and knew it was too soon to reveal that asset.
Tossing the gear into the small space behind the driver’s seat of his black-and-silver Audi R8 Spyder, he headed out, arriving at the awards gala well past the point of fashionably late. One perk was the lack of a wait at the valet stand. Easing out of the low-slung sports car, he tossed the keys to the valet. He flashed a fifty-dollar bill and pressed it into the young man’s hand. “Keep it close. I may need a quick getaway,” he said with a wink.
The kid grinned conspiratorially and promised Parker a zero wait time. Didn’t matter. With the upgraded locking system, Parker could get into his car without the key he’d handed to the valet.
As he walked through the extravagant lobby, he scanned the attendees milling about on the mezzanine level. Resisting the urge to tug at his bow tie, he did his best to believe he looked like all the rest of the men in tuxedos. Although he preferred his military mess kit on formal occasions, tonight he needed to blend in with the upper echelons of San Francisco society.
He knew it wasn’t wise to pester her again after she’d made it clear she’d speak with him tomorrow at her office. He just couldn’t wait. A man was dead, cut down in his prime by a coward who’d ambushed him. Eyeing the free-flowing champagne, Parker hoped to have more luck this time. He deserved a chance to share his side of the bogus story, to counter every unsubstantiated claim in that email.
More important, he intended to make her understand that Theo should be allowed to rest in peace, free of any scandal casting shadows over his honorable service.
She would give him the name of her source by morning, and he would take that information to Detective Baird.
At the top of the wide staircase, he wandered left, bypassing the first two bars and the long lines of men and women in glittering formal wear. Reconnaissance was the first step in getting a handle on the situation and the woman. After two circuits of the areas designated for the event and the acquisition of a champagne flute he was using as a prop, he still hadn’t found her.
She was here. He kept his gaze roving, eager for a flash of her auburn hair or those long, creamy legs. Striving for the patience he used to demonstrate in the field, he planted himself where he could watch the majority of the guests come and go.
At last he spotted her, walking up the stairs from the lobby alone. Where was her date? Her red hair gleamed, swept up off her neck in a sleek twist. The short black dress and sky-high heels with the sparkling straps winding around her ankles showed off her toned legs. At her door, in those heels, she’d been almost eye level with him. Her bright blue eyes, full of defiance and intelligence and amped up for the evening, had captivated him, putting an unexpected sizzle of attraction in his blood.
Forget that. He didn’t need her to like him, and he’d blown any possible personal advantage by being a jerk earlier. Now he’d have to adjust his approach. He moved cautiously, using the crowd as cover to follow her when she reached the top of the stairs, so she wouldn’t bolt. He wasn’t in the mood to chase her around a hotel or out into the chilly October night.
He didn’t want to tell her about Theo, didn’t want to use his friend’s death that way, but he was prepared to fight dirty and play the sympathy card if necessary. He couldn’t afford to give the blackmailer any more of a head start.