She hadn’t expected this. She’d thought she’d be observing the loving couple from afar, not thrown amongst them like fresh meat to the wolves.
‘How do I know your father?’ Tara repeated, her mind scrambling for an answer. ‘Business.’
‘What sort of business?’ Kasey asked.
Tara shot Patrick a look. ‘You could say I’m a problem solver.’
Patrick crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘And if people don’t want their problems solved?’
His words impaled her. He must think she was stalking him! ‘Then they’re not going to call me,’ she said as calmly as she could.
‘And if someone else does?’ Patrick asked, his voice deep and velvet smooth.
‘Then the person that called me must care a lot,’ Tara said easily. ‘But I can’t help if the client doesn’t want any help.’
‘Well, this is all fascinating and terribly obvious.’ Kasey fanned herself with her hand. ‘But I think I need a drink. Are you coming, Rick?’
‘In one minute,’ Rick offered, smiling at his girlfriend and then turning to Tara, as though he was dealing with nothing more significant than tying a loose shoe-lace, or swatting a fly or squashing a bug.
Kasey shrugged and sauntered towards the bar.
A tense silence enveloped them.
She stared at Patrick’s mouth, pressed thin, her breath solidifying in her throat. She didn’t want to be the bug! No matter how tall, dark or rich he was.
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