Suddenly she had a terrible thought. What about her car? Would it start? She’d been so engrossed in her work that she’d completely forgotten about the depleted battery.
Fishing her keys out of her purse, she hurried outside and unlocked the driver’s door. Please start, she prayed, slipping behind the wheel.
She pumped the gas pedal and turned the key, but nothing happened. The battery was dead, just as she’d feared. She was stranded at work on her first day, half starved and exhausted.
Imagining the sad picture she was going to make in the morning when Cole or Rick found her still at the office, wearing the same crumpled suit, she groaned. She had to get home. But how? It was too far to walk. She couldn’t afford a taxi, not if she was going to have to buy a new car battery, too. And she didn’t know how or where to catch a city bus. At this time of night, she wasn’t sure she felt safe traveling on one, anyway. The places she’d lived had been too small for public transit. She’d never taken a city bus in her life.
Eyeing the back part of the office, the part that was Cole’s living quarters, Jaclyn wondered if, by chance, he was still awake. His Lincoln Navigator was parked next to her car. If only she had his keys and a pair of jumper cables. She could be on her way in five minutes.
Can’t hurt to check, she thought, getting out. She walked around to the back of the house, where she hoped to see a light or some indication that Cole might still be working, but everything was shuttered and dark.
Would he mind terribly if she woke him?
Motivated by hunger and an intense desire for her bed, she let herself into the office and tiptoed down the hall toward where Cole had gone. Outside a full moon hung bright and low, lighting those rooms that didn’t have the blinds drawn. Jaclyn wandered through a state-of-the-art kitchen, complete with an island, a breakfast nook and white cabinetry, a formal dining room with hardwood floor and a den—judging by the expansive desk, leather furniture and fax machine—to confront a closed door that probably opened into Cole’s bedroom.
Raising her fist, she took a deep breath…and knocked.
“Cole? Are you in there?”
No response. Maybe the door led to a pantry or laundry area, and not Cole’s bedroom. She couldn’t be sure.
“Cole?” she called again, rattling the knob. The door was unlocked, and she was halfway through it, thinking he must be somewhere else in the house, when she heard his sleep-filled voice from just a few feet away.
“It’s okay, Laura. Come in. I’m glad you’re here.”
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