Flirt With Me (With Me in Seattle 17)

I’ve just opened my computer when there’s a light knock on the door.

I smile at the waitress as she walks in carrying a large tray full of coffee, fruit, and pastries.

“On the dining table is perfect,” I instruct her and stand back as she unloads everything onto the table, then tucks the tray under her arm and passes me the bill.

I sign my name, add a tip, and escort her out.

I need coffee.

I pour myself a cup, doctor it up the way I like it, and take a bite of a decadent cinnamon roll as I sit in front of the computer.

With everything that’s happened over the past few days, the catastrophe at my house, and taking this trip, I’m behind on some work. This is the perfect opportunity to get caught up before we make our way back to Seattle.

I open my email and start with the oldest first. This one, Dale Rimmon, is a client that I’ve corresponded with, but haven’t met in person.

His emails usually raise red flags. I can’t even put a finger on why, he just makes me uncomfortable.

Dear Maeve,

I will be in town for a few days in a few weeks. I would like to see several homes at that time. As I narrow down my exact dates, I’ll be in touch. I will want to see you, and only you.

Sincerely,

Dale

I take a deep breath. “Jesus, Dale, could you be any creepier? Why me and only me?”

I shake my head. Maybe he’s just not good with email.

I answer several other emails and do some property research per several clients’ requests. Just as I’m about to finish up for the morning, Hunter comes rushing out of the bedroom, haphazardly dressed and barking into his cell phone.

“I don’t know where she is. We need to find her.”

He stops short and stares at me.

I stare back.

“Never mind. I found her.”

He clicks off and just drops his phone onto the couch.

“Hi.” I raise a brow.

“Jesus, I thought you left.” He scrubs his hand over his face.

I look around the room and then back at Hunter. “Where would I go? I’m with you. It’s a big suite, Hunter. I had work and didn’t want to wake you.”

“Just wake me.” He walks over and kisses the top of my head. “It gave me a bad moment.”

My hand covers his on my shoulder. “Okay, now I know. I have coffee and some sugar here if you want some.”

“I’ll order up a protein shake.”

I smile up at him. “That does not sound like a delightful breakfast.”

“It’s just fuel,” he says. “How long have you been up?”

“Just over an hour. I don’t sleep much.”

“Was I snoring?”

I laugh and stand so I can wrap my arms around him for a hug. “No. Okay, maybe a little, but you didn’t wake me. I’m just not much of a sleeper. It’s not unusual for me to only get a few hours a night and then get up and do stuff.”

“I’ll remember that.”

His finger dips into the neckline of my shirt and he tugs out the emerald.

“You’re still wearing it.”

“I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

“Who did you call? When you thought I was gone?”

“Sid,” he says.

“And how would Sid be able to track me down?”

“He’s former CIA,” he replies simply.

“Of course, he is.”

“What do you mean it’s going to take two months to fix my house?” I demand and prop my hands on my hips. Hunter and I have been back in town for two hours. He and Rachel are settling in at his place, and I had to meet with the contractor who’s taking care of my home.

“It’s my busiest time of year,” Grant says, shaking his head mournfully. “And this isn’t going to be a quick job. The house is damn old, Maeve. Looks like no one replaced the roof in more than twenty years. And you have some internal structural damage going on. I’m not sure what it’s from. It could just be old-fashioned rot because the house is—”

“Damn old,” I finish for him. “Can I live in it?”

Grant frowns. “We get more rain, I can’t guarantee you won’t get wet. And, I’ll be honest, it’s always easier if you’re not underfoot. You have lots of family here. I’m sure there’s somewhere you can go for a while.”

“Yeah.” I chew my lip and stare at my little white house. “I have places to go, but it’s never as good as home.”

“Listen, I’ll try to get to it sooner. My advice is, get most of the stuff out of here and into storage so nothing else gets ruined, and then let us work our magic. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Grant.”

Grant nods, gets in his big work truck, and drives away.

The estimate for what it’s going to cost to fix keeps bouncing around in my head. It’s a big chunk of money. It’ll take up at least half of my savings.