you don’t have a reason to hate me now.”
In a bold move, he reached over and slid the pad of his thumb across the scar above her right eye. Her forever reminder of him. She snatched away, his touch infuriating her even more than his words had. She did have a reason to hate him. “I allowed my guard down once and trusted you with...” She stopped and cleared her throat when her voice cracked. Refusing to relive the angst of their past, she stood. “I have to go. I would say it was nice running into you, but it wasn’t.”
With that, she walked away from the man who’d long ago walked away from her and had never looked back. Neither would she.
For the past week, Lauder hadn’t been able to think about anything but Willow. Even now, in the back of the sedan on his way to an interview, he studied the picture of Willow on the About Us page of her company website.
He liked her brown hair cut in that sassy, short style. It gave an unobstructed view of her neck. Man, his lips yearned to explore that neck. She was far more beautiful in person than on a screen. Though he knew it was real, recalling seeing her in the Drip Drop felt like a dream. A dream come true.
“I guess there’s no changing your mind about her, huh?” Chuck asked, seated in the back of the chauffeured vehicle with Lauder.
Without looking away from the screen, Lauder said, “Nope. She’s definitely the one.”
Lauder had agreed to Chuck’s charade, but with one condition: Willow played the part of his would-be lover. Chuck had rattled off his objections, but in the end, Lauder had made it clear that it was either his way or no way.
Now, all he had to do was convince Willow. And judging by the icy reception he’d received from her, that wouldn’t be easy. But he liked a good challenge.
“The one?”
Lauder could hear the surprise in Chuck’s tone. This brought Lauder’s gaze to him. “You know what I mean. She’s the perfect one to play this part. We have history. That’ll make this thing appear much more authentic.”
“Uh-huh.” Chuck rummaged through his briefcase, removed a stack of binder-clipped papers and flipped through them. “History you probably should have thought to mention to me. The fact that you two resided in the same group home for a while does play well.”
“It didn’t—Wait. How do you know that?” Lauder scrutinized the papers Chuck held. “What are you reading?”
“You didn’t think you could send me an email stating you’d found the perfect candidate to play the part of your fake girlfriend and not expect me to vet her, right? And for future reference, it’s best we talk about this face-to-face.”
Lauder laughed to himself. Chuck sounded as if he was running for the presidency. No one cared what was in his emails. Still, he nodded his agreement, then said, “Vet her? You had Willow investigated?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I have a dossier of people attached to this campaign. Politics can be ruthless. I want to make sure we’re not blindsided.”
Lauder was unsure how he felt about Chuck invading Willow’s privacy or the privacy of the others in his camp. “This feels an awful lot like crossing the line, Chuck.”
“Calm down. Most of the information is public knowledge.”
“Most? And how was the rest gathered?”
Chuck sent a gaze in Lauder’s direction, the look on his face suggesting Lauder didn’t want to know. Lauder shook his head and slid his attention out the window. This was the murky part he hated about politics. How far was too far?
Chuck continued to peruse the papers. “Her credit score is better than mine. Highly respected in the law enforcement community. Her company does a lot of work with Raleigh PD. Obviously, she’s good with her hands because she’s won a ton of awards for her clay work.” Chuck flipped several more pages. “Uh-oh.”
Lauder whipped his head toward Chuck. “What was that for?” When Chuck didn’t readily respond, Lauder leaned in to see for himself.
Chuck moved the pages out of view and laughed. “Chill, man. You’re invading my personal space.”
“What the hell is uh-oh?” Lauder couldn’t explain his dire need to know what had happened in Willow’s life that would warrant an uh-oh. An urge to wrestle the man for the papers came over Lauder, but he resisted.
“Seems Ms. Willow Dawson has been bitten by the baby bug. She has a pending adoption application. Looks like she tried to adopt once before. A kid she’d been fostering.”
“What happened?”
“The application was denied.”
Lauder’s brow furrowed. “Denied? Why?”
“‘We feel the applicant lacks a stable enough home structure and financial outlook to support adoption at this time,’” Chuck read. “It looks like she was just starting her forensic facial reconstruction company and had quite a bit of her finances tied up in it. The social worker made a note about not believing Willow would have enough time to dedicate to a start-up and raising a child. Especially as a single parent. That’s cold.”
“That’s bullshit,” Lauder said, sending a hard stare out the tinted glass. How many kids had been denied a loving home because of BS like this? The system has to change.
“Whoa.”
This drew Lauder’s attention back to Chuck. What had he uncovered now? And could it be any more devastating than the adoption news? “What?”
Chuck waved him off. “Nothing. I just didn’t realize she used clay and skeletal remains—namely, a skull—to recreate what a person looked like. A deceased person,” he said, as if the skull hadn’t been a giveaway. “It’s kind of eerie.”
Lauder shook his head at his friend, then turned his attention back out the window. He couldn’t explain why, but his urge, his need to get close to Willow was greater than ever.
* * *
Willow preferred clay over people. Clay didn’t disappoint. It simply remained there in one big clump allowing you to manipulate it in any manner you wanted, not the other way around. Clay didn’t work you like men.
A vision of Lauder’s handsome face burned into her thoughts, and she gritted her teeth. Her best friend, Hannah, stood next to her and laughed, pulling her from the offending image.
“Um, sweetie, everything okay?” Hannah asked.
“Perfect. Why do you ask?” Willow said without looking at her friend.
“Because instead of John Doe, you’ve sculpted a Nubian god. One that looks very familiar.”
“Huh?” Willow eyed her work and gasped. “Oh, God.” How had she... She groaned. It had been two weeks since she’d seen Lauder. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
