but rarely flowers. And who had known that white roses were her favorite?
Tugging the little green card from its envelope, she took another rich breath.
I miss you. I miss us. Gary
Nausea curdled the contents of her stomach, and she doubled over as bile reached the back of her throat. No longer sweet, the roses stank of betrayal and broken hearts and her very worst mistake. With a single sweep of her arm, she sent them flying over the edge of her desk. The glass vase hit the metal trash can with a crack loud enough to reach the parking lot, immediately followed by a shriek and rapid footfalls.
“Mandy?” Tara called before she even appeared in the doorway. “What happened?”
Mandy kept her chin tucked into her chest and her arms crossed. With shaking legs, she turned toward Tara. Her breath hitched as she tried to answer the question still hanging over the room, but there were no words to explain the pounding of her heart.
Tara remained silent for a long moment before finally offering an uneasy chuckle. “Two bouquets in one day. That must be a record.”
Mandy glanced up, not quite meeting her office manager’s gaze over a small bouquet of orange-and-red lilies that she hadn’t even noticed in Tara’s hand. “An-other?” Her voice quaked, and she quickly cleared her throat, forcing her shoulders back and her head up.
“From Gwen.” Tara held out the square vase. A tall plastic stem held a simple card, its looped letters easy to read.
Congratulations on your award! Well done, my friend!
I’ve got a job for you in Miami whenever you want it.
Gwen
“For the philanthropy award.” Mandy spoke as though Tara hadn’t read the card, which she certainly had. “You know. The one for my volunteer work at Pacific Coast House. I don’t know how Gwen heard about it, but it was really sweet of her to send me such pretty flowers, wasn’t it?” Mandy chomped down on her tongue. Why was she rambling as though she had something to hide? She wasn’t a child in trouble. She was a woman capable of making her own decisions.
Tara nodded and raised an eyebrow, but her expression was otherwise blank. “And Miami? Are you thinking about moving?”
“No... Yes... Maybe.” She ran a hand over her face and shrugged.
Tara’s pale eyes turned hard, fearful. She probably thought she was losing her job, and Mandy jumped to clarify.
“Of course, I won’t leave you out on a limb. I’ll let you know as soon as I decide. It’s just an offer. Gwen’s a good friend from school, and she offers me a job in her clinic every year or so. I wasn’t really considering it until...”
She couldn’t find the words tonight. But Tara didn’t really need her to rehash it. Her office manager knew about the identity theft, professional aggravations and general harassment Mandy had endured for almost two years. The cops hadn’t been able to find anyone behind the hassles, but someone was out there. Faceless but intent on making her life miserable.
Maybe what she needed was a fresh start. And that was what Gwen offered.
She’d be a fool not to at least consider it.
And Gary’s sudden return to her life—well, that was just another good reason to pack up and try again. In Miami.
“I promise I’m just thinking about it,” Mandy said. “If I decide to go, you’ll be the first person I tell.”
The corners of Tara’s mouth quirked into a half smile. “Fair enough.” She tipped her head toward the front desk. “I’m going to take off. Need anything else?”
Mandy shook her head. “Have a good night.”
She settled in to do some paperwork as the front door swished open and closed with the racket of the blinds.
Not a minute later, the blinds rattled again. Mandy jumped and then forced herself to laugh. “Tara? Did you forget something?” she called.
Silence was the only response. And it was quickly followed by goose bumps up and down her arms. Mandy stood and walked around her desk, then poked her head into the hallway, her pulse already accelerating. “Tara?”
Still no response.
Not a voice nor even the sound of anyone breathing. The office was deserted except for her. But something was different. Like the weight of a never-shifting gaze pressing against her shoulders. She jerked around, then looked the other way. No one.
Mandy tiptoed toward the front desk, the overhead lights in the reception area shining brightly. “Is someone here?” Her voice cracked as chilled fingers crept down her spine.
Peeking around the corner into the waiting room, she surveyed the space. Nothing out of order.
She shook her shoulders and cleared her throat. She hadn’t really expected to find anyone. But what had shaken the front-door blinds? And why did everything inside her scream she wasn’t alone?
Suddenly a car alarm screeched to life. Mandy jumped and clapped her hands over the scream on her lips.
Lights from the parking lot flashed through the front windows, and she dashed across the room, flicking the shades wide enough apart to peer into the darkness beyond.
The flashing and honking continued as a man on crutches hobbled along the side of the angry car. His back to her, he was bent as far as his supports would allow. But she didn’t need to see his face to recognize him.
After unlocking the front door, she opened it and stepped onto the top step. “Luke? Are you okay?” Even her yell was hard to hear over the blaring horn, but he straightened up and spun to look in her direction. Holding his hand to his ear, he shook his head. He couldn’t hear her.
She dashed across the empty parking lot, only then realizing how dark it had become. The lights in the lot were probably set on a late timer, and the moon wasn’t doing much to break through the cloudy San Diego evening.
“Are you all right?” she asked when she reached his side.
Luke frowned and glared at the fast-food bag clasped against his hand grip. “I just walked over to get some dinner. I’m borrowing my mom’s car—it fits my leg brace—but it’s still not easy to get in and out of. Anyway, I accidentally hit the panic button on the key fob, then dropped the keys under the car.” He rolled his eyes, his mouth pinching tight.
Mandy’s heart gave a tiny hiccup.
Once he would have just crawled under the chassis and picked them up. Now he probably felt...helpless. He wasn’t helpless. But to go from active-duty SEAL to needing help to walk couldn’t be easy on a man, especially one used to patching up his wounded brothers.
Squatting down next to the car and leaning into the earsplitting shriek, she spotted the keys, leaned against the abrasive asphalt and reached all the way under the car to retrieve them. Dropping them into his palm, she dusted off her hands as he pressed a button and the car let out one final honk before falling quiet.
Sweet silence hung in the air for a long moment
