Death by Chocolate (The Davenports 2)
Page 3
The door swung open, and a bright pink coat caught his attention. He sat up, and his jaw dropped. The bronzed beauty had a head full of dark curls, which tumbled around her oval-shaped face. Large black eyes scanned the room. He stood and waved. Her full lips twitched up into a nervous smile. He was not expecting a total knockout. Used to hiding behind a mask of professionalism, he pushed his immediate attraction on the back burner and stood.
“Micah?”
“Yes, Daize. Am I saying it right?”
She nodded. “You are. Nicely done.” She placed her hand in his, and he smiled. He liked her sass. Her handshake was firm, and her skin was soft. A light scent that reminded him of surf and sand wafted his way.
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” Her soft voice held a sweet sincerity.
“Of course. We’re here to help you.” He patted her hand before they disengaged. “Would you like to get something to drink before we get started?”
“Is that your way of telling me I should brace myself?”
He barked a laugh. “No. That was me being polite and using the manners my parents taught me. I’ll confess to picking this spot because their food is amazing, and I don’t want to stuff my face with pastries while you sit there with nothing.”
She smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, I can’t leave you hanging.” He walked her to the counter, and they fell easily into light conversation. She ordered a Lavender Mocha. The organic hot chocolate had a shot of espresso and lavender syrup. Inhaling her coffee, she wrinkled her upturned nose in a way he found adorable. Getting a refill on his coffee, and a plate of banana nut muffins, he led them back to the table. A quiet fell over the table as they ate.
“I have no clue where to start this conversation,” she mumbled.
“Well, how about you tell me about yourself.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Is this where you make sure I’m mentally sound?”
“I’m not a trained psychologist if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You know it wasn’t.”
“We’ll be spending a lot of time together in close quarters. It’ll go a lot smoother if we’re friends.”
Her shoulders relax. “I like that idea. What do you want to know?”
Everything. “Whatever you feel like telling me?”
“A question for a question then? We have to keep it fair.”
“I’ll bite,” Micah agreed.
“Al
l right. You start.”
“Have you ever experienced paranormal activity before?” Micah leaned forward.
She pursed her lips and took a moment before answering. “No. At least none that I was aware of. Why do you do this?”
“Paranormal investigation?” he guessed.
“Yes.”
“Curiosity about the unknown and helping others.”
She nodded her head. “Decent answers.”
“What do you hope the CPI will be able to do?”
“Best case? You’ll get rid of whatever’s in my apartment. Worst, I’ll know I wasn’t crazy and relocate.”
That answered one of his major questions. Too many times, the client was attached to the home and viewed relocation an impossibility. It made true resolution impossible when the land was the problem. “If you’re willing to move, why contact us?”