“You met the guy last night,” Grace argued.
“Have you ever met someone and felt an instant connection. Not some soul-mate romantic drivel connection,” Darby quipped before Grace could finish the aww sound she’d started. “Just a connection. Like, you understood them. Even without all those random details, you feel as if you know them well enough to relax and be yourself.”
Leaning back in the lounge chair, Darby slurped up a deep sip of her smoothie to the sound of silence.
“Go ahead,” she finally said, figuring Grace would grind the enamel off her teeth trying to bite back her opinion. “Say it.”
“First, I want to know that you’re really Darby Raye and that you’re not responding under duress. So answer these questions three. First, what color is your desk chair? Second, what was the last thing we ate together? And third, who irritates you the most in the office?”
This time it was Darby who went aww, although she kept the comment in her mind. There was something seriously sweet about having someone care enough to ask silly questions that most stalkers wouldn’t have a clue the answers to, just to be sure that Darby wasn’t being forced into multiple beachside vacation orgasms against her will. Especially since Darby knew that if she answered any one of them with anything but Grace’s expected response, the other woman would be on the phone to the authorities, pulling every legal string and connection she could to ensure Darby’s safety.
It was the first time that Darby could remember anyone caring that much about her, and it was kind of touching.
“My desk chair is aubergine, and don’t try to say that it’s purple because we both know I won that argument when I showed you the receipt. The last meal we had together was some weird tofu stir-fry thing you insisted I try, but you know perfectly well I threw my portion in the trash as soon as you left the room.” Darby waited for Grace’s relieved laughter to fade before answering the last part. “And third, I’d say that giggly brunette with the huge teeth in research irritates me the most, but I think this is a trick question.”
“Since you nailed the first two, I’ll give you a pass on the trick question,” Grace replied. “Just tell me you’re being careful.”
“Are you asking if I’m having safe sex?”
“Darby!” Grace’s gasp was half giggles.
“C’mon, remember to whom you’re talking,” Darby reminded her with a laugh. “You said it yourself. I’m made of mistrust. Added to that, I’m trained to read people. To understand body language, and to take care of myself. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing? You don’t know his last name. You don’t know where he works or what he does for a living. You don’t even know if he lives in the United States. None of that merits a little worry?”
Darby grimaced. She was already regretting mentioning Dominic in any way, let alone confessing her trip into sexual nirvana. Since she hadn’t kept her mouth shut, she shifted to damage control.
“I know his first name. The owner of the resort, an upstanding citizen who, according to the framed photos in the lobby, is on a first-name basis with numerous elected officials, as well as three Navy Admirals, is his uncle. I know that whatever he does for a living involves using his body—and given the quality of said body, he’s damn good at what he does.”
She waited while Grace made a low humming noise, then asked, “So when you get back, are you going to fill me in on the details of what he does with that body?”
“Isn’t that a little tacky?” Darby said as she leaned her head back on the thick lounge cushion and tried to keep from laughing. “I’ll plead the Fifth on that.”
“Appropriate.”
This time Darby didn’t try to hide her laugh. But she did try to reassure her friend.
“Grace, I’m good at taking care of myself. I promise, I’m not in danger.”
“Okay, but please check in every once in a while, just so I don’t worry.”
Darby wanted to roll her eyes. She was a grown woman. She couldn’t remember a single time any of her family had asked her to check in, let alone shown any worry for her. She wanted to tell Grace to quit being such a worrywart and chill out.
“I promise,” she said instead. Then, because feeling all gooey inside made her uncomfortable, she changed the subject. “So how’s everything in the office? Any exciting new cases?”
“Um, yeah. About that. I don’t want to put a pall on your wild vacation fling or anything, but you should probably know that a certain ex has been in and out of the offices more than once this week.”
Darby’s smile fell away as she pictured Paul Thomas. She didn’t shift from her lounging position, but her body tensed all the same. She tried to ignore the guilt trickling down the back of her throat.
“Did you tell him I was away?” Darby resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. She wouldn’t put it past Paul to follow her on vacation.
“Please,” Grace sniffed. “You know perfectly well that I wouldn’t tell him anything. But I never got a chance to show off my discretion because he never actually stopped by your office. Word is he did stop by Carson’s office, though.”
Why was Paul chatting up the Deputy Director of the US Attorney’s office?
Her unseeing gaze locked on the waves, Darby’s mind raced. He was up to something. But what? He couldn’t get her fired for dumping him, and besides, that wasn’t his style. She could easily imagine him romancing another woman in the office to make her jealous. But she couldn’t see him risking his own reputation by involving her boss in some scheme to get her attention.
She adjusted her sunglasses and blew out a long breath.
Odds were, he was simply playing it up to get her to call. He was playing her. It was totally his style.
She squirmed a little in her chair, shifting her weight from the right to the left and back again. Curiosity was so damn hard to ignore.
“Is he actually spending time with Carson? It could be completely legit. Maybe he’s there to talk about a case for the Judge Advocate General’s office.”
Her fingers tapping a rhythm on her bare knee, Darby considered that possibility. She wouldn’t put it past Paul to make it look as if he had some big case to try to get her attention. She wouldn’t put anything past him, actually. The man had followed her across the country, for God’s sake.
On the other hand, working with the JAG office would not only be the perfect feather in her cap, but it was also quite likely the type of case that would snag her that spot in the National Security Division.
She wanted that spot. But how tangled were the strings going to be if she paired up with Paul to get it?
“I’ve only caught a couple of his visits, and they were short. Like, ten-minutes-or-less short. But I heard he’s been in other times.” Before worry could dig its teeth too deep in Darby’s gut, Grace continued, “I’m going to lunch with Carson’s secretary tomorrow, though. She won’t gossip, but Susan likes me. I’ll find out as much as I can.”
And that, Darby realized, was just one more reason why Grace was the perfect secretary. The woman had her back whether she was in the office or not.
“You’ll keep me in the loop?”
“Guaranteed. Oops, there’s the other line. Gotta go.” With that, and a quick goodbye, Grace hung up.
And Darby was left trying to shake off the feeling that she needed to get her ass back to San Diego. But she was under orders to take her vacation time. Going back—going into the office—would ruin the whole facade that she cared about work-life balance, and likely jeopardize her shot at a promotion. She was