“Do you need to see my ID or anything now?”
Rafe hesitated, then put out his hand. “Sure.”
She opened the briefcase again, pulled out a slim wallet and took out her California driver’s license. He looked at it and read aloud, “Megan Stanford Gallagher.” Then he glanced up at her. “Stanford?”
She’d always hated her middle name. “My grandmother’s maiden name.”
“Oh, I thought you were named after the university,” he said. “You know, Stanford University.”
“No,” she said.
“Okay. Just checking.” Then he read, “Twenty-eight, five feet ten inches, a hundred and—”
She went around and snatched the license out of his hand. “I think that’s enough,” she said, and returned it to her wallet. “I’m who I said I am, and I’m here for the reason I told you.”
She snapped the briefcase shut and heard Rafe repeat, “You are who you say you are, and you’re here for the reason you told me.”
“Thank you.” She looked up at him. “Now, tell me if you’re just overzealous about your job, or did you seriously think I was stealing company secrets?”
“The latter,” he murmured.
“You are kidding, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“And you thought I was getting involved with Mr. Lawrence to ferret out company secrets?”
“That sounded reasonable to me,” he said.
She shook her head. The thought was just plain sickening to her. “I’m ready to leave,” she said, then saw the boxes she had to take with her. She pointed to them. “They need to go with me. Since you’re here, and you have to sign me out, you can carry them down for me.”
“I’m a guard, not a valet,” he said, and didn’t move.
She blinked at his words. She hadn’t meant to offend him, or ask him to be her slave. “I just thought it would help me get out of here faster,” she said with all honesty.
“Of course it would. Just ask me, instead of assuming I’ll be your lackey.”
She had no idea where this was coming from, but it made her feel uneasy. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll take them myself and make a couple of trips.”
That clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, either, though she didn’t know why. “It’s going to kill you to be polite, isn’t it?” he murmured in a low voice.
“Forget it. It won’t kill me to make two trips.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, if that’s okay with you?”
“Now’s even better,” he said, and went straight to the boxes, picking them up. “Let’s get this over with.”
He sounded as if he were about to have a root canal operation, but she didn’t argue. She collected her things, then did as he said, leading the way to the elevators. She reached to press the down button, and the doors opened immediately. She stood back to let Rafe on board, then followed and hit the button for the lobby.
She faced the doors as they closed, and deliberately didn’t look at Rafe’s reflection in them as he stood beside her. The elevator started down, and she realized she might not be looking at him, but he was staring at her. “What?” she finally said.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Sorry,” he murmured, and as she eyed him, he glanced away. “I was just thinking that if I were you, I wouldn’t wear a ring like that in the neighborhood you’re going to tonight.”
“What does that mean?”
“How big is that ring?” he asked.
“None of your business,” she said.
“Three carats, four?” he pressed.
“Big enough.”
“Okay, a nice ring. The place you’re staying is in a fringe area, a mixture of warehouses and converted lofts, populated with homeless street people.”
She knew the type of area, but had assumed that the loft was in an industrial section that had been turned into pricey condos and studios. “Mr. Lawrence arranged it, and I don’t think he would put me in a place he considered questionable or unsafe.”
“It might be paradise,” Rafe said, staring straight ahead at the doors, “but I’d still keep that ring under wraps.”
She covered the diamond with her other hand.
“One more suggestion?” he said, and this time he met her gaze in the reflection.
“What now?” she asked with a tinge of exasperation.
“When you park there, assuming they don’t have a secured parking area, go right to the door and have your key ready. Then go straight in.”
She frowned at him, hating the uneasiness that was beginning to niggle at her. “What are you trying to do, scare me as payback for…not signing the lists?”
He shrugged. “Security’s my job, and I’m just giving you a few suggestions. Take them or leave them.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a soft chime. He let her step out first, then went with her to the back exit, toward the parking garage. Megan opened the door, let him go out, then followed, hearing the door close with a metallic clang. She headed for her car, parked between a foreign compact and a large black SUV.
She hit the lock release, then Rafe put the boxes on the back seat, closed the door and turned to her. “I would have pegged you for a BMW,” he said.
“I have a Porsche,” she admitted. “I flew in, so it couldn’t come with me. This is a rental from the company.”
He opened her door for her, and as she slipped into the driver’s seat, he crouched by her the way he had at the entry gate that night. “Anything else, ma’am?” he asked in an annoyingly deferential tone that she knew he didn’t mean at all.
“Nothing, thanks,” she said, putting her briefcase on the passenger seat.
“Well, if you think of anything, give me a call,” he said, and motioned to her phone and the earpiece. “You’re wired for it.”
“Sure, you’ll be the first one I call if I need something,” she muttered.
She was braced for some snappy comeback meant to cut her to the quick, but he surprised her when he said simply, “Be careful.”
What looked like genuine concern touched his dark eyes, and that surprised her, too. He was taking this whole thing seriously, about security and the neighborhood. “I plan to be.”
“Good. You do that,” he said. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“Excuse me?”
“How to get there, to the loft?”
“Oh. No.” She turned to her briefcase, opened it and took out the now infamous envelope to get the letter and read it more carefully. There wasn’t any mention of parking in it, but there were directions she could easily follow. “It’s all here.”
“One more thing?”
“What?”
“If you do end up parking on the street, don’t leave anything in your car where it can be seen through the windows. You’d be asking for trouble.”
“Are you sure you don’t live down there or something?”