decor was colorful with beautiful, gigantic chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, which gave the lobby an intrinsic charm. His attention went to the huge bust of President John F. Kennedy. He recalled the first time he’d come here and seen it. He’d been around ten at the time, and his mother had brought him for his first tour of DC.
His mother.
Not for the first time, he wondered how different things might have been had cancer not claimed her at forty. He’d been fourteen, and a part of him would forever feel the loss. His life had gone downhill after that. With his mother gone, there was no one to protect him from Louis’s verbal abuse or Doyle’s bullying. At some point, his godmother, Lucinda, had stepped in, giving him the love and support he’d desperately needed and wasn’t getting at home.
Checking his watch, he noted intermission would end in ten minutes. Already the crowds were dispersing as individuals began leaving the lobby to return to their seats. In a few hours he would be able to go back to his hotel and rid himself of the suit and tie. He’d decided to take advantage of Roland’s offer and stay in town until Sunday. He’d contacted Ryker, and they would be hanging out on Sunday. Tomorrow he would take in the sights. The last time he’d been in DC, he’d been with Striker and Stonewall. They’d eaten breakfast at a café in Georgetown, and he planned to revisit it tomorrow morning.
Several crowds lining the lobby floor shifted, and suddenly his breath caught. He did a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Standing across the room was the one woman he’d assumed he would never see again, although he’d hoped otherwise. The woman who’d stolen her way into his thoughts for the past three months. Dr. Randi Fuller. Psychic investigator extraordinaire.
He studied her profile, willing her to turn ever so slightly. Then he would know for certain it was her and not a figment of his imagination. She was standing in a group. Friends of hers, he assumed. Or was one of the men standing so close to her side more than a friend? A lover, perhaps? The thought of her involved with someone tightened his gut.
She looked beautiful, and her gown flattered her body in a way that had every cell in his body responding to her curves. A deep sexual hunger surged to life within him, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. How could a woman he didn’t know arouse him to a degree no other woman ever had? And why did the very thought that they were standing under the same roof practically thicken the air flowing through his lungs?
What were the odds that he would see her again? Here? Tonight? Was she a resident of DC? Or was she, like him, just in town for the gala? More than once he’d been tempted to research her, to see what he could find. But to do so would put too much importance on the night he’d seen her and the connection he’d felt, so he hadn’t. Now a part of him wished he had.
Then he wouldn’t have been wondering where she lived. Where had she grown up? Was her family as fucked-up as his? Did she have a lover? He continued to look at her while those questions went through his mind.
He was about to force his gaze away, fix it on something else—like that huge bust of President Kennedy—when something happened to halt those plans. As if she felt the caress of his gaze, she tilted her head in a way he thought was sexy as hell, such a damn turn-on. And then, as if she had a sensor detecting his exact location, she looked over at him.
* * *
RANDI DREW IN a sharp breath when something akin to an electric current passed between her and the man standing across the lobby.
Quasar Patterson.
Where had he come from? Why hadn’t she detected his presence before now? And why was she tempted to leave everyone standing right here and cross the room to him? She then quickly remembered one of the things Gramma Mattie stressed in the vision. He had to make the first overture.
“I guess we’ll head back our seats now,” Larry was saying. “It was good seeing you again, Randi.”
She quickly broke eye contact with Quasar to look at Larry. “Same here.” Giving Larry’s wife a gracious smile, she said, “And it was good meeting you, Yvette.”
“You, too, Randi. I hope everyone enjoys the rest of the show.”
When the couple walked off, Randi quickly returned her gaze to Quasar. He was standing in the same spot, staring at her. He looked blatantly male, handsome as sin in a dark suit. He broke eye contact with her when a well-dressed, very attractive woman approached him. It was obvious the woman wanted to use one of the elevators, and he was denying her the right to do so. It then occurred to Randi why he was here. He was part of the security detail. When the woman walked off, Quasar returned his gaze to her. Why hadn’t she seen him when they’d come down from the balcony? She then remembered they had used the escalator instead of the elevator.
“You handled that well,” Trey said, interrupting her thoughts.
She broke eye contact with Quasar, a little annoyed that she had to. She glanced up at her brother. “What?”
“Seeing Larry Porter again.”
Randi shrugged, shifting her gaze from Trey back over to Quasar. He was busy sending a group of ladies away. “I told you I was over him, but you didn’t believe me.”
“Only because I know how much he hurt you.”
The very fact that Trey had fought to be cordial and not take Larry apart meant he had let her handle her business, like their father had told him to do if they ever ran into Larry again.
“That year I spent on Glendale Shores helped me realize it wasn’t meant to be for me and Larry. He’s married now and looks content. I’m happy for him.”
The lobby lights blinked. “That’s our cue to get to our seats,” Haywood said quickly, taking Trey’s hand and giving Randi an I’m-proud-of-you smile.
Trey led the way. “We’ll take the elevator back up,” he said. “It will be faster.”
Randi felt a quickening in her stomach. That meant she and Quasar would be in proximity to each other. Would he acknowledge her presence? She could feel blood rushing through her veins when the group got close to where he was standing.
They had been to enough of these events to know the procedure. Only VIPs were allowed upstairs in the balcony area, so she, like the others, took out her badge. When he stood directly in front of her, she showed him her pass. He nodded, and before she moved to pass him, he inconspicuously slid a card into her hand. Not wanting to call attention to what he’d done, she tightened her hand on the card as she stepped on the elevator with her family. When she was certain no one was watching, she slid the card into her purse.
“Wow! He was definitely a handsome guy,” she heard Anna say.
“Who was?” her husband, Zach, asked.
“That security guy. He’s hot.”
Trey chuckled. “You might want to be worried, Zach. Your wife and mother of two is checking out other men.”
“So was your wife, who’s the mother of four,” Haywood said, smiling. “A man who looks that good would be hard to miss. So what do you say about that, Ross Donovan Fuller III?”
Trey frowned at his wife. “You and Anna are married. Neither of you have any business checking out other men. On the other hand,” he said, glancing over at Randi, “Randi is single and
