Read All Things Pretty for Free Online Page B

makes no sense, but then again it doesn’t have to. In a
house full of cops, gut instinct is a way of life and I’ve learned
never to ignore it.
    I’ve always been damn good at reading people
and as soon as Tommi said it, I got the feeling she wasn’t being
entirely straight with Lance about this baby shower thing. Then,
when I saw the shocked look on her face when I asked her where she
was really going, I knew I was right. Something’s up. And I’m just
the guy to find out what that something is.
    I drop into a seat that’s behind a big
column near the entrance to the bar and I wait for a few seconds
before I straighten enough to see Tommi again. She’s sitting at a
corner booth, alone, like she’s trying to hide. Kinda like I’m
doing. She’s got a little tablet in front of her and she looks
engrossed, totally oblivious to what’s going on around her.
    The waitress comes and I order a Coke,
handing her a ten and then turning my attention back to the
beautiful platinum head across the room. I watch her for forty-one
minutes. She only rouses to her surroundings a couple of times,
stretching and glancing around nervously before focusing once again
on the screen. Whatever she’s doing, she doesn’t want to get
caught. I don’t know if Lance even knows where we are, if she gave
him an address. Hell, for all I know, there might not even be a pregnant friend. What I find most interesting, though,
is that she’s playing Lance. That much is obvious. And that means
there are only three options for the beautiful Just Tommi: She’s
dumber than I think, smarter than I think or she has a death wish.
And I’m determined to find out which one is accurate.
    When after the better part of an hour, she
folds the collapsible keyboard and starts closing up shop, I slip
out unnoticed and haul ass to the car. I’m sitting in the driver’s
seat with the window rolled down when I see her appear on the
sidewalk at the front door. I start the engine and she looks my
way. Her lips curve into a faint smile, which dies almost
immediately, almost like she didn’t mean to smile. Yet she did.
    I watch her walk primly toward me. I get out
at the last minute to open the back passenger door. Her step
falters for a second. “You don’t have to open my door.”
    “Of course I do.”
    “You’re not a chauffer.”
    I shrug. “No, but I was raised in the south.
This is what a man does.”
    She considers me for a while before she
bends gracefully to get into the car. I close the door behind
her.
    Once I’m settled in behind the wheel again,
I find her eyes in the rearview. “Where to now?”
    “Back to Lance’s.”
    A few minutes of silence. I glance back
several times to find her staring out the window, her expression
blank. I’d love to know what’s going on behind that beautiful face,
because I know something is. Probably a lot of something. If I had
to guess, I’d say this woman’s mind never stops running.
    “How was the shower?”
    Her eyes slide to mine and she frowns.
“Pardon?”
    “The baby shower. How did it go?”
    “Oh, right. Fine.” She sighs. “She’s having
a little boy. She got tons of stuff. Clothes, diapers, a stroller,
a baby swing, bottles, travel kits, a little bathtub. She shouldn’t
have to buy much.”
    She doesn’t bat an eye, just rattles this
shit off like she was actually there. I’m impressed. This girl can
lie her ass off. The question is: Why would she need to?
    “Nice.”
    Neither of us speaks for the rest of the
trip back.
    When we reach Lance Tonin’s building, I drop
Tommi at the front and go back around to the side to park in the
garage. Alone, I take the elevator up to the penthouse. I can hear
the raised voices as soon as I pass the two goons that stand guard
in the foyer.
    “It’s for your safety. If you have nothing
to hide then it shouldn’t be a problem,” Tonin is saying.
    “Just what is it that you think that I’m
doing?”
    I’m ushered by a third goon through