All or Nothing. Debbi Rawlins

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going for it?”

      Dana swallowed. “I haven’t auditioned in three years.”

      “So?” “So, I like what I’m doing.”

      Amy snorted.

      “Right.”

      What Dana should’ve pointed out was that she’d quit three years ago. Moved on. No more pie-in-the-sky dreams for her. She had no business nurturing even the teensiest hope. Yet here she was, holding her breath.

       3

      CHASE BENT over to pull on his sweat socks, wincing with the effort. Yesterday’s run—his first with Dana—hadn’t tested his physical endurance as much as the hundred sit-ups he’d foolishly punished himself with last night. An equal amount of push-ups hadn’t fazed him, but then again, the recent double bullet wound near his ribs had made crunches a bitch.

      He promised himself that tonight he was taking it easy. Just him and that king-size bed. Throw in some room service and the television remote, he’d be all set. And if Dana were to…

      Shit. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking like that. Yeah, she had legs that could wrap nicely around a man’s waist and a high firm backside that you could set a beer on, but she was still a possible suspect. Just like the rest of the people on his list. So he’d better remember to keep his fly up.

      The phone rang and he knew it was her because they were supposed to have met in the lobby ten minutes ago. He pushed off the edge of the bed and made it to the console table before the third ring.

      “Mr. Culver?”

      “This must be Ms. McGuire.”

      “Are we still on for this morning?” Her tone was all business.

      “Yes, ma’am. I do apologize, but I’m running a little slow. How about you come up and have a cup of coffee while you wait? Room service brought up a fresh pot less than half an hour ago.”

      “I don’t mind waiting here in the lobby.”

      “I have a suite with a nice big parlor.”

      “I don’t drink coffee before I run.”

      “Some water then?”

      She hesitated. “Frankly, I make it a policy not to go up to the guest rooms.”

      “I see.” Chase smiled wryly. That was lie number one. “I’ll be down in about five minutes.”

      “No problem.”

      He heard a click, and then slowly replaced the receiver on the cradle. He expected more enthusiasm out of her. Maybe he’d pegged her wrong. Nah, he didn’t think so. She’d admitted she’d come to New York looking for a singing career. Looks like he had to bait the hook again.

      He found his running shoes under the teak secretary where he’d kicked them off yesterday. Bending over to pull on the shoe hurt his ribs again and he cut loose a word his mama had literally washed his mouth out with soap for when he was twelve. He still remembered the day as if it were yesterday. Not just because of the nasty taste of the soap, but because of that first look of disappointment in his God-fearing mama’s eyes.

      How many times before that had she begged him not to turn out like his daddy, and in that one second, to her mind, he’d taken that fork in the road. To some degree she’d been right. Chase had disappointed himself too many times to think about. He’d done things he regretted, made promises he hadn’t kept. The true irony was that two months ago, when all hell had broken loose, sending his career as a cop up in smoke, none of it had been his fault. But that hadn’t seemed to matter.

      He pushed the thought from his mind, tucked it away in that dark corner that had already been too contaminated with hate and anger to make a difference. Today he had a job to do and it required all his concentration. The last thing he needed to do was screw up again.

      Besides, this was going to be an interesting run. He hoped Dana didn’t have another appointment after his because he had every intention of hijacking her.

      “LET’S TAKE another route,” Chase said once they entered the park. “A change of scenery.”

      “Sure.” Dana waited until a family of four got off the path to follow a string of ducks toward the lake before she started to run. She couldn’t get Kelly out of her head. This morning’s timing had been awful. Dana had dozens of questions.

      “You’re quiet, darlin’.”

      “What?” She looked over at him. He hadn’t shaved yet. Dark stubble covered his chin and jaw, and she thought about what Kelly and Amy had said about him not looking like a producer. Silly, of course. There was no specific look.

      “Is something wrong?” With his dark eyebrows drawn together, his gaze narrowed, his eyes looked more gray than blue.

      “No. Nothing.” She had to stop thinking about Kelly. It wasn’t just about how much she’d miss her, which was a whole other issue, but about how much the defeat on her face had shaken Dana. Kelly giving up was kind of like signaling the end of an era. Which was really crazy because Dana had long ago removed herself from the fray. So why should it affect her?

      She noticed he was lagging a bit and slowed down. One of the problems with guiding men was that they often wouldn’t speak up if she went too fast for them. “Five miles again?”

      “That works.”

      “Remember, you set the pace.”

      He grinned. “If I keel over you should probably stop.”

      “I promise to dial 911 promptly.”

      “That would be mighty kind of you.”

      “It’s the least I could do. After all, I do want to get paid.”

      Chase laughed. “You have lived in this city too long. Ah.” Grimacing, he put a hand to his side.

      “You okay?”

      “Yeah, it’s just my ribs. Old injury.”

      Right. She tried not to smile. “Want to slow down?”

      “Just for a while.”

      She immediately brought them down to a brisk walk. “What happened to your ribs?”

      “I tell you that and I’ll have to admit to my sordid past.” He gave her one of his disarming smiles. “You’re the one who seems a bit off your feed today.”

      She hadn’t heard that phrase in a while. Her dad must have used it a hundred times while she was growing up. Probably still did. “I just found out that one of my friends is thinking about leaving the city and getting a job back home.”

      “Home being?”

      “Wisconsin.”

      He let out a low whistle.

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