"What did you do?"
A young woman stepped from the shadows and into the light that beamed its way through the windows. Her russet arms lay folded across her chest and her Aztec features morphed into a dark scowl. Carmen Quintana, one of the best hackers in the world, angrily eyed Jeannie up and down.
"I'm sorry," Jeannie said, waving a follow me gesture as she shuffled to the kitchen. Carmen lived on coffee and donuts and Jeannie bet Carmen had brought some sugary goodness with her.
Sure enough, a pink box filled with the confections lay on the table. Jeannie gave the still scowling Carmen a happy grin. Sugar was a cure-all for heartaches ... at least temporarily.
At Jeannie's smile, Carmen's face smoothed from angry to neutral. She went to the cupboard, grabbed a large mug, and then sat down on a stool, waiting eagerly for Jeannie to make the coffee. "So now I have to take over where you left off?" Carmen rotated the mug in her hands, warming it up as she spoke.
Jeannie let out a weary sigh. "I'm sorry, Carmen. I thought I could handle it, but ..." She shrugged her shoulders, struggling against the weight of failure that pressed them to the floor. While she waited for Carmen to voice her disappointment, she filled the decanter with water.
"Ah, don't worry about it, chica. I can handle Shon Westwood."
Jeannie twisted her body to give the Latina a grateful look over her shoulder. "I'm glad you're not upset."
Carmen waved off her apology. "Nah. I don't mind. Having a good-looking guy fall under my spell will be all too easy." She batted her eyelashes and received a laugh for her antics.
Jeannie filled the reservoir with the water, stopping at the full-line "Well you've got work cut out for you. Shon is seeing a girl from my class."
Carmen's next words made Jeannie gasp in surprise. "Yes, I know all about her." Carmen flipped her hair over her shoulder, shrugging off Jeannie's warning. "I'm not worried."
Jeannie turned so fast that her hand running along the countertop nearly knocked over the glass decanter. She just managed to dip down and catch it before the fragile pot hit the floor and smashed into a million pieces.
Carmen let out an exaggerated breath and dramatically removed her hand from her heart. "Great reflexes, Jeannie," she said with a smile. "I would have died if that fell 'cause I need some coffee in the worst way. I've been reading up on Mr. Westwood all weekend and I've barely gotten any sleep."
Jeannie gave her a sheepish look. "Some agent I am. I didn't even know he was with Bekka until a few days ago." Jeannie paused with putting the decanter into the coffeemaker.
How did Carmen know when I didn't?
Jeannie narrowed her eyes as she gazed at the hacker. "How did you find out?"
Carmen grinned under Jeannie's glare. "When Demetri gave me the go-ahead to take over, I put a hot mike on his phone." Carmen waggled her brows. "Want to know what he said about you?"
Jeannie blushed and turned on the coffee pot. "No. I most certainly do not."
Carmen went on as if she hadn't heard Jeannie's reply, "He really likes you. Albeit in a messed-up sort of way." Carmen slapped her hand on the table and snorted. "He and Bekka fought after he got off of the phone with you. It was epic." Carmen lifted her hands and made horns with her fingers. As she tossed her head from side to side, her brown hair flew in all directions.
Jeannie laughed at Carmen's silliness, but deep down she was angry.
Thorne and Shon.
The two men had supposedly wanted her but couldn't stay faithful if their life depended on it.
It's my lot in life to be unlucky at love, Jeannie thought sourly.
Thorne waited until after 9 AM before he went over to Jeannie's. He wanted to catch her awake and alert, so he could apologize. He planned to do whatever it took to get back into her good graces...even if he had to dance on the head of a pin.
During the weekend, his feelings ranged from melancholyâwondering if he had lost Jeannie foreverâto anger at himself for sabotaging the best thing that had walked into his life since his mother had left it.
On Saturday, as soon as he was up, Thorne had sent Quentin and Dalton back to their apartment. For the rest of the day, he'd waited in vain for Jeannie to come home.
He paced the floor.
He peered through the blinds.
He turned the TV on and watched the nonsensical images change colors.
By 10 PM, Thorne was in a fit of worry. Before jumping to conclusions, he checked her credit card records. He relaxed when he saw she'd bought a round trip bus ticket to her hometown. After a little further digging into the bus system's records, he saw she was due back Sunday night.
It had taken everything in him not to meet Jeannie at the station. At the last moment, his hand on the button to start his car's ignition, he'd asked himself a few questions.
What if she rejects me?
What if she laughs in my face?
What if she comes home with Shon?
No, it was better to catch her at home, alone. There, with no distractions to sidetrack them, he planned to tell her everything. Including why he was teaching at the Uni and why he was her neighbor.
And let the chips fall where they may.
Last night, he again paced his apartment. The waiting was agony. He wanted Jeannie home and in his armsâthe best-case scenario.
The worst case being her utter rejection.
It was likely. More than likely in fact. What woman would give their consent for someone to spy on her?
To take his mind off of his impending destruction at Jeannie's hands he went through several speeches and scenarios. It didn't help. Every speech sounded hollow and every action wooden. He would just have to wait until he was with her face to face. Only then could he try and win her back.
Finally, at close to midnight, he'd heard light footsteps in the hallway. His heart had pounded out her name as he rushed to the door, peeking through the spy hole as he scraped back the chain.
It was Jeannie's reaction that had stopped him.
Her eyes strained from her head like a wild animal in a trap and her hands trembled as she fiddled with her lock.
She was afraid. Afraid to see him.
Thorne had turned away, sliding down the length of his door. His T-shirt pulled from his jeans as his backside came to rest on the cool wooden floor.
He'd sat there for over an hour, one knee cocked, his forearm resting on it. He twirled his apartment keys with his fingers as he wondered aloud at the mistakes and wrong choices he'd made.
When his phone buzzed, he fished in his pocket to retrieve it. A text from an unknown name and number flashed on his screen.
Thorne had cocked his head against the door and lifted a brow. No one had his number but The Source and his team. Who had sent it? After he'd read the words, Thorne no longer had questioned about the "who", the "why" or "how." The message of: Don't give up on her, had given him what he'd been lackingâhope.
Jeannie had just poured Carmen a steaming cup of coffee when a knock sounded at the door.
Carmen rose from her chair. With questioning eyes and a soft voice, she asked, "Are you expecting someone?"
Jeannie shook her head and clutched at the material of her purple silk robe. She'd a good idea of whom it might be. Trouble was, she didn't want to see Thorne yet. It was still too soon. In fact, she doubted she would ever be ready.
Carmen took up a defensive position by the door and removed a pearl-handled switchblade from the pocket of her jeans. The knife whispered in motion as the weapon first twirled then locked into place.
"Who is it?" Carmen asked sweetly, but death glinted in her eye as she held the knife aloft.
"Hawthorne Gable from next door," came the muffled reply. "Is Jeannie at home?"
Jeannie vehemently shook her head. The action caused her silk sleep scarf to fly from around her curls and skitter on the floor.
Carmen looked through the peephole. She let out a low whistle as she took in the sight of a contrite Thorne. Before Jeannie had time to react, the hacker lifted the chain and flung the door open wide.
With a wide grin, Carmen exclaimed, "Why helllllooooo, Hawthorne!"
Jeannie hadn't said a word, and neither was she called on to do so. After a curious look, Thorne ignored her and Jeannie, him.
Carmen and Thorne, however, had been talking up a storm as if they were long-lost friends getting back in touch.
Carmen took on the role of hostess, pouring Thorne orange juice when he refused coffee.
She begged him to try the jelly-filled donuts because they were sooo good. As they talked, Carmen kept reiterating she and Thorne had sooo much in common.
Jeannie thought she would scream if she heard the word "so" stretched out beyond its capacity one more time. She tuned out the couple at the table as she busied herself with rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.
However, Carmen got her attention when said, "Sooo, what're you doing later, Hawthorne?"
Jeannie held her breath as she waited for his answer, clutching the edge of the countertop so hard a knuckle cracked.
"I came over to see if Jeannie wanted to go to the movie theater with me tonight."
Me? What?
Jeannie spun around. Her gaze flickered first to Carmen's knowing expression, then rested on Thorne as he mouthed the words, I'm sorry.