“And no one remembers an ambulance or cop cars?”
“No,” I said, settling on a protein bar, then making my way over toward the coffee station.
“Yeah, that makes no sense. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital, right?”
“That’s the billion-dollar question right now, isn’t it?” I asked, pouring some caramel syrup into my cup to cut the bitter, stale scent—and therefore taste—of the coffee.
I instantly missed the fancy-ass machine at Miranda’s apartment, and the perfect coffee it produced. But I didn’t want to be around the place too much in one day, raising brows. I’d already brought enough attention on myself for one day.
And it wasn’t easy to avoid the eagle eyes of the doorman around that place, men who were clearly paid well and had if not affection, then respect, for the tenants of the building.
I needed Miranda to make up some sort of story about my presence. A boyfriend, maybe.
Though, yeah, that felt a little bit like playing with fire.
I had to keep my fucking head in the game.
Not imagining the client naked in the shower.
Or with her skirt hiked up in the kitchen after work, taking it from behind to help her unwind from a long day.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
“What?” Sawyer asked, snapping me back to the moment.
“Coffee’s hot,” I said, shaking my head at myself.
“So what now?” Tig asked.
“I’m off to see a friend about a connection to the cops. Then I am back at the apartment to oversee the new security system.”
“Keep us updated,” Sawyer said.
“Will do.”
“Oh, and Brock?” Sawyer called before I could hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fuck the client.”
The line went dead after that.
A part of me wanted to be offended. But the other part of me knew that I had a pretty awful track record. Not with active clients, of course. I went ahead and waited until we closed the case before I gave into their advances.
What can I say?
A single gentleman liked to be accommodating to the ladies.
And as tempting as all of those women had been, none of them came close to Miranda Coulter’s sexy ass.
Never mind her incredible looks. She was smart and driven, two qualities I’d always been drawn to. She was together and capable, with just a hint of vulnerability that she clearly didn’t like anyone to see.
And what a fucking treat it would be to get trusted enough to get more of that side of her.
Not that I was going to get the chance.
“Hey, guys,” I called to the teens who were lurking around, likely wondering if they would be able to snag a couple of the beers from the fridge without the owner seeing. “Any of you up around the Chapel Lane building on Friday?” I asked.