Austin - Piper Stone Page 0,19
buying the theory entirely. There was no smell of gas, but the acrid stench reminded me of chemicals. There had to be some connection to all the buildings. “Thanks, Janine. Why don’t you guys take off for the rest of the afternoon? I plan on going home and having a large glass of wine.”
As she glanced at her watch, I did at mine as well, realizing the twenty extra minutes I was giving my employees meant diddly squat.
“Try and get some rest, Senator.”
“Good night.” I turned my attention to the window, the sun just starting to fade, highlighting the mountains in a spectacular manner. Who the hell was trying to destroy my city building by building?
A drink was a definite tonight. Maybe more than one.
A sudden whim came into my mind. I snagged my personal cell phone, dialing the one person I could commiserate with over copious amounts of wine or tequila. “Katie.”
“Hmmm… I think I recognize that voice. Let me think…”
“Very funny. You know I’ve been busy. The last session was a pain in my ass.”
“So I’ve heard,” Katie said, laughing. “Glad you’re back.”
“How about popping by for drinks tonight?”
“Uh-oh. Shitty day?”
“You got it,” I growled, refusing to scream that it had been a shitty life the past two years.
“Don’t worry. I’ll stop by the liquor store. Too bad I can’t bring one sexy male stripper with me. I think you need to get laid.”
Groaning, I closed my eyes and all I could see was one giant, sexy, and tattooed man.
Nope. It was never going to happen again.
“It’s Friday night. I brought tequila!” Katie announced in her usual jubilant voice. The woman was always excited about everything, especially grabbing a cocktail and enjoying whatever man candy we found. She sauntered into the kitchen, slapping the bottle down on the counter and immediately reaching for the two margarita glasses I’d filled with ice.
“You’re a godsend.” Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. I was exhausted although every inch of me remained on edge, butterflies swarming in my stomach. Why? There is no reason for the way I was feeling.
“And don’t you forget it,” she said, laughing as she poured a hefty amount of the liquor into each glass. When I remained quiet, she gave me what I’d coined her infamous don’t-give-me-shit look, taking her time to pour from the pitcher of mix I’d made from scratch.
“What? Can’t I get together with my girlfriend?”
“Don’t even try and give me that shit. You forget that I know you too well.” She finished mixing, sliding a glass in my direction then cocking her hip against the counter. “You haven’t wanted to do this in a long time. What gives?”
Before I had a chance to reach for my drink, I noticed I’d left the washed and folded shirt I’d borrowed from the sexy hunk on the kitchen island. Instantly, she followed my gaze, her eyes sparkling.
Shit.
Katie took a sip of her drink, licking salt off the rim before moving toward the shirt like an eagle spotting its prey. “And what is this?”
“Just a shirt. What does it look like?”
“Sure it is.” She put her glass on the granite surface then grabbed the tee shirt, allowing it to unfold in front of her. “A man’s shirt to be exact.”
“Something I sleep in.”
Wrinkling her nose, she glanced at the applique on the front. “Since when do you like heavy metal music? Disturbed?”
I shrugged, chastising myself for leaving the damn thing out in the open. “I have varied tastes.” When she brought it to her nose, I cringed. I’d used copious amounts of fabric softener in some crazy effort to remove his scent.
“From classical and jazz? Right.” She tossed it onto the counter without folding it, shaking her head. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s nothing to tell. Come on. Let’s take our drinks into the living room. I have a fire going.” I didn’t wait, moving quickly toward the fire, a sharp pang occurring in my chest. I hadn’t even thought about how horrific the event had been or about the fact I could have lost my life.
If it hadn’t been for the burly man.
My rugged hero.
“I can see that this is a dead issue. How was your trip to Hamilton?”
“A pain in the ass,” I answered before moving to the couch.
She sat down hesitantly, studying my face. “You were the one who wanted to get into politics.”
“Actually, I wasn’t.”
“Ah, yes, the great ex-husband.”
The horrific worthless piece of human flesh.
“You know, it’s not that I don’t enjoy what I’m