“I’m telling you—”
“It’s a matter of priorities, Rinda. You know that.” He walked to the door and yanked it open, signifying that their time was over.
Standing, Rinda hiked the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Okay, okay, I get it. I know you’re busy. But this is really worrying me…it’s just kind of creepy.”
He didn’t respond as she made her way to the door and the sounds of the office—computers humming, phones ringing, conversation buzzing—drifted inside. “But you know, Shane, you really should give Jenna a chance, rather than a ticket.” She paused at the threshold, earning a dark look from Jerri.
“I figured that was coming,” he said, bracing himself. “What’d she do, ask you to try and get me to void the citation?”
“Of course not. Look, forget the ticket. Who cares about it?”
“Jesus, Rinda, you never give up, do you?”
“You wouldn’t love me if I did.”
Again a look from Jerri. Jesus, they didn’t need to be discussing his love life here!
“You should meet her,” Rinda insisted as she paused in the doorway. “And not as the big, bad cop. I’m talking socially.”
“I don’t need to meet anyone. Got it?” But in his mind’s eye, he conjured up a vision of Jenna Hughes—not the small woman huddled behind the wheel of her beat-up Ford, but the Hollywood star. Every man’s fantasy. Shiny black hair, large greenish eyes, big breasts, small waist, and a tight ass that she’d flaunted in all her movies. They were her trademarks. She had a heart-shaped face that could appear innocent one second and slyly sexual the next. The kind of face that made a man want to protect her, all the while hoping to get her into bed. And she had all that fame chasing her around. A celebrity from Tinseltown. Not his type. Not his type at all.
“I think you’d like her.”
“You’re always thinking I’ll like someone.”
“I was right about Carolyn.”
“At first.”
She pulled a face. “I don’t think we should go there.”
“Probably not.”
“You could have made it work if you’d had enough time. I knew she was the right one for you.”
He caught her gaze, decided she was right—no reason to rake up the muck. “Okay, so you’re batting a thousand, so there’s no need to spoil your record.”
Little lines appeared across her forehead and she placed a hand over his sleeve. “You can’t grieve forever.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“I think so.”
“Because I’m not in the dating scene?” he baited. “What about you?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Good. We’re not talking about me, either.”
“You’d like her, Shane,”
Rinda insisted as she finally made her way past Jerri’s desk and through the rest of the department.
He didn’t offer any protest as she left, but he knew she was wrong about his love life. Dead wrong. He suspected Rinda knew it, too. She just couldn’t face the truth.
No more than he could.
CHAPTER 8