from the pawnshop, she thought as her bus pulled up and she instinctively checked the time on its drugstore replacement.
Climbing on board, she flashed her pass at the driver, walked back to her accustomed seat in the middle, and continued to dream.
She could rent a car and make the trip to Aurora to make sure her favorite jumper was doing all right with his new owner. Top Flight had always been a challenge, part of the reason she’d loved him, and it would be good to know that he’d settled into his new surroundings.
For that matter, she could drive up to Breckenridge and spend a few days skiing and being pampered at The Pinnacle, one of her favorite little ultraluxury spa resorts. Although she supposed she should probably call first. It wasn’t unusual for them to be booked an entire season in advance.
Of course, before she went anywhere or called anyone, she needed to pay her overdue cell bill—something else she could now afford to do. Just think! For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t going to have to worry that her phone service, an absolute essential to job hunting, not to mention her sense of safety, was about to be cut off.
Heck, once her account was cleared she’d even be able to use some of her precious minutes on nonessential calls, such as letting Gabriel know—again—that she didn’t want or need his help. Even better—the thought of it had her sitting up straighter—she could send him the money to pay for the locksmith who’d shown up the day after their encounter to install locks on her doors and windows.
She still wasn’t sure what she resented most about the gesture. The hit to her pride that with a snap of his elegant fingers he could dispatch someone to take care of something she herself had been unable to afford? Or that she could no longer crawl into bed without thinking about him because, for the first time since moving into the place, she was actually getting some sleep instead of constantly jolting awake at each and every little noise? Even though the night after the locks had gone on she’d bolted awake to hear someone fruitlessly trying to force her front door?
Or was the agitation she felt when she thought of him caused by something else entirely? Perhaps a secret fear that hiring the locksmith had been his parting gesture? Could it be that deep down she was really afraid he’d taken her at her word and intended to respect her request that he stay away?
Absolutely not, she thought, squaring her shoulders. Sure, she was surprised he hadn’t been back to harass her. But why shouldn’t she be? He didn’t seem like the sort of man to back down from anything. And his parting shot had seemed to indicate that as far as he was concerned, they were far from finished.
Which was just plain crazy, given that they’d never started. Certainly they’d been friends of a sort, and she couldn’t deny that they’d always had chemistry, but they’d both chosen never to cross the line into something more. And while she’d obviously had her reasons for keeping him at arm’s length—he so wasn’t the type for a superficial dalliance—he’d quite clearly kept his distance for reasons of his own.
Reasons she’d never really thought about.
And wasn’t about to start now, she told herself firmly. For too many years she’d been like a leaf in the stream going wherever the current took her, coasting over bumps, sliding around obstacles, letting outside elements determine her path.
Well, she was done with that. Like it or not, it was up to her whether she wound up over her head in some stagnant pool or learned how to keep herself afloat.
That was why, she realized, coming back to earth as she stared out the window at a cityscape that was getting drearier with every passing block, she wasn’t going to spend cousin Ivan’s money on anything foolish like designer shoes or salon haircuts or pricey vacations. For the very first time since she’d found herself stranded outside the Plaza with no one to call and nowhere to go, she had a cushion, however small, between herself and life on the street.
She wasn’t about to blow it. No, except to take care of her overdue rent and phone bill and purchase some urgently needed groceries, the new, improved Mallory was going to sock that money away and continue to watch every last nickel, dime and penny.
She was certain she wouldn’t have to do it indefinitely. After all, a mystery relative unexpectedly bequeathing her money had to be a sign that her luck was changing. So tomorrow she would again scour the papers for jobs, hit the streets, renew her quest to join the ranks of the gainfully employed.
And surely, if she just tried hard enough, by this time next week she was bound to be somebody’s favorite new employee.
Stripper. Nursing home attendant. Fast-food worker.
That pretty much described her current career path, Mallory thought dejectedly as she climbed off the bus well after dark a week later.
Pulling her coat a little tighter against the chill from the snow that had begun falling in the past hour, she began to pick her way home through the freezing slush in her too-thin pumps, sincerely wishing that she’d had the foresight to wear boots when she’d left that morning.
Of course, at the time, the weather had been warm and sunny, matching her mood as she set out to apply for half a dozen promising employment possibilities.
Now, twelve long hours later, after riding eight different buses, walking dozens of blocks, and an eternity of waiting, talking, smiling and praying, not one job offer had come her way.
But then, the positions she’d applied for had actually paid a livable salary, instead of minimum wage for part-time hours too sparse to cover the barest necessities like rent or food. As an added bonus, they also hadn’t required her to breathe heavily into a phone or take her clothes off in front of strangers.
And so far, with the exception of the hostess gig at Annabelle’s, which she’d so foolishly thrown away, those seemed to be the only kind of offers she could generate.
Not that she was feeling sorry for herself or anything, she thought, jumping a little as a door slammed in the distance and an unseen man screamed an obscenity. Okay, so maybe her inability to find decent employment was making her feel even more useless than normal. And she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how close to living under a bridge she’d be if not for last week’s windfall.
And yes, her feet were freezing, the too-quiet, seemingly deserted street was creeping her out and the thought of spending another night eating boxed mac and cheese all alone in her drafty apartment made her feel beyond bleak, but—
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Her head snapped up as a tall, menacing figure materialized out of an unlit doorway in front of her. She slid to a stop, her heart jamming into her throat as the interloper stepped squarely into her path.
Time slowed, then ceased, while her thoughts splintered. Run! screamed through her along with ohmigod I’m going to die at the same time an oddly detached little voice murmured, Gee, doesn’t that voice sound sort of familiar?
Then the man took a threatening step closer and the snow-dappled light from the streetlamp on the corner touched his face and her heart lurched back to life.
“Have you lost your mind?” Dragging desperately needed air into her constricted lungs, she didn’t think, just reacted, lunging forward to smack Gabriel in his big, broad, not-even-breathing-hard chest. “Of all the mean, rotten, low-down dirty tricks! You scared me half to death—”
“Good.”
