She stands quickly. “Great. Thank you.” Her eyes drift down to his desk and narrow. “Is that me?”
He looks down and sees her file open in front of him. Shit! He snaps it shut, but not before she reaches and pulls out a newspaper article about her disappearance.
“This was snapped the night I was taken.” She runs her finger over the picture. “I remember that dress.” She squints like she is remembering something. “Hmm.”
“What?” He stands and moves to her side to look over her shoulder at the picture. “Do you remember something?”
She flips her hair, and there is that apple smell again.
He pauses, allowing himself to enjoy her scent. After all, he spends basically three hundred and sixty-five days a year with men. Needless to say, Savannah smells amazing. Oh, Lord, there he goes again. He forces himself to concentrate.
“See,” she turns to look at him over her small shoulder, “I was having drinks with Joe Might in this little pub. There was the bartender and one old man in the corner. I know because I was on high alert, watching for the damn paparazzi. But this was taken from behind Joe. I would have seen them…wait.” She holds the picture closer. “There’s a reflection capturing part of a hand. I wish it was clearer. Is there a way to blow it up?”
“Umm, I have the email with the attachment. I could bring it up then blow it up larger.” He sits in his chair and opens his email. She follows, standing next to him. He normally would never let anyone see his computer, but he enjoys her not being afraid of him. He quickly opens the attachment and brings the picture up and zooms in on the reflection. The hand becomes a little clearer.
“Look.” Savannah leans over him and points at the screen, and her hair brushes over his neck. A jolt runs through him. “It’s a silver bracelet with a heart on it.”
Cole prints the picture to keep a copy.
She turns and leans against his desk in front of him. She raises her hand, rubbing her forehead. “Something’s there, I just know it—like it’s sitting on the edge of my memory.”
She looks so sweet and serious, trying hard to remember. Cole can feel his walls starting to crumble, and he wants nothing more than to pull her onto his lap and hold her and tell her everything will be all right. Instead, he reaches for her hand.Oh, you stupid fool.Thankfully, she doesn’t pull away, though her eyes travel up from their hands to his eyes. His fingers flex, holding her hand a little tighter. Oh…one little tug and she’d be on his lap, knowing just how much he wants her there.
“Give it time, but it will come. Your mind has a lot to process.”
“You sound like Dr. Roberts,” she jokes. “Thanks, though.” She makes no attempt to pull away, and neither does he.
His stomach is swimming laps with the occasional somersault.Lord, I’m falling fast. Get a grip!
York comes busting through the door in the middle of a rant. He stops when he sees Savannah behind the desk. She’s crossed Cole’s forbidden line. She drops his hand, leaving him feeling a loss. “Hey, Savi, didn’t know you made office calls,” York mutters sarcastically.
“York.” She nods and turns to leave. “How’s the eye?”
“Abigail will help you,” Cole says to Savannah, “if you remember anything.”
“I will, thanks.” She smiles, then glares at York. “Be careful out there.” She taps her eye on the way out.
God, she is fun to watch. Cole’s grin fades as he turns his attention to York, who is shaking his head at him.
“What do you want?”
“No, my friend, I think the question is what is ityouwant?” York nods toward the door as it closes behind her.
Savannah
I try to lose the grin that is tugging at the corners of my mouth, but it’s difficult. There is something about Cole Logan that makes all my senses stand at attention. I can’t believe I didn’t flinch when he held my hand, but it felt right. I put the thought aside. I need to hunt down Abigail.
After Abigail gives me the rundown on what sites were blocked, like email, Skype, and Facebook, I am finally left alone. I bring up Google and type my father’s name. There must be a billion links to look up, so I start with the newest one. My stomach twists when I click on the video and watch him pour his heart out about me. I continue watching more news clips until I can’t take it anymore. I wipe my eyes dry and Google my name, and pictures and articles come flying at me. I click images and see Lynn and me walking on the beach together. We were laughing after spending the day soaking up some sun. Oh, Lynn. I miss her so much it hurts. I print off the picture.
I search my name and the date I was taken. TheNew York Timeshas a picture of me on the front cover with a caption “Mayor’s Daughter Disappears—Is This a Cry For Help?” I shake my head, reading on. I follow my story as the newspaper and magazines gathered more information. Lynn even did an interview about our last day together, at the end asking the media to give her some space. My poor Lynn.
I read that I ran off with a biker gang Daddy didn’t approve of, that I’m living with a cousin in Canada, and some say I’m in a rehab in California. I start to feel nauseated. The stories make me look like I brought this on myself. Finally, the report was released with a statement from the kidnappers asking for a ransom. However, it didn’t seem to make headlines for very long.
“I’ll leave this for you, dear.” Abigail sets a tray down next to me. “Please try to eat it.”
“Thank you, Abigail.” I reach over and take a sip of the green smoothie. She smiles, leaving the room.
I go back to the articles on my father and notice he doesn’t comment on the ransom so much as just wanting to get me back. Maybe they didn’t want to draw attention to it. I flip through a few pictures, wanting one to print one of Dad too. I need some memories to remember who I still am…or was.