Fatal Attraction (Dark Desires 4)

Chapter 16: Conner

I thought about picking Katie up in my limo, with a full breakfast buffet in the back: eggs, bacon, muffins, fresh fruit, pancakes, French toast, coffee, juices. Then I realized that Katie was probably not the kind of girl who would be impressed by that sort of thing. She was a successful lawyer, after all, not some wide-eyed Irish girl come to the big city for the first time. She was already wary of me simply because we were negotiating two sides of a deal. She didn’t need to be impressed. She needed to be wooed.

So, I pulled up to the front of her apartment building, which was in a tony part in Midtown, meaning that she made a pretty good living at Yates Hamilton & Booz. I decided to drive my old 1972 Ford Bronco, which had belonged to my dad. It was a barebones little truck, with a huge steering wheel and hard bucket seats, but a heater that could thaw even the coldest New York winter from your bones.

The drive to my place in the Hamptons would take a couple of hours. While the little Bronco was not nearly as comfortable as my limo, it made for a fun ride. And when Katie saw it waiting at the curb, it made her smile… for a moment.

“This is your car?” she asked, clutching her hands to her chest as her breath steamed the air. She was wearing a heavy coat and hat, with a thick wool scarf around her neck and gloves on her hands. I took the overnight bag she had strapped over her shoulder and stowed it in the back, then opened the passenger door and gave her a little bow.

“This is a classic 1972 Ford Bronco,” I said proudly. “It belonged to my dad. Don’t you love it? Go on, climb in.”

“It’s… interesting,” she said as she stepped into the cab of the truck.

“I knew you’d be impressed,” I said playfully. “By the way, this has a great heater. You’re gonna burn up in that coat.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said, sliding into the slick vinyl seat.

The window rattled when I closed the door. I trotted around to the other side as the cold wind bit at my nose and ears. Thankfully, the air inside the truck was toasty warm.

I climbed in behind the wheel and gave her a big smile. “Buckle up. There are no air bags in this baby.”

“Does it have brakes?” she asked as she pulled the seat belt around her waist. She looked around the cab and into the back seat. The horrified look on her face made me grin. The truck was filthy, food wrappers in the floor, empty beer and Red Bull cans on the seat, a couple of old blankets, a tackle box. I tried to remember the last time I’d used the Bronco. A camping trip, maybe. Or the last time I’d gone home to see my folks. I always drove the Bronco when I went home so my old man wouldn’t give me shit about being a pretentious asshole.

“Or course it has brakes,” I said. “And a great heater.”

I turned the knob on the dash to pump out more heat. I wasn’t even wearing a coat, just a heavy sweater, jeans, and boots. I ground the gear into first, and wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Hamptons, here we come.”

Katie wrapped her arms around herself and kept quiet as I maneuvered out of the city, finally turning onto the Northern State Parkway toward Long Island. Traffic was fairly light this time of year, so I settled in at sixty-miles an hour, which was top speed for the Bronco. I glanced over to give her a smile.

“You know, you don’t have to worry,” I said. “I’m an excellent driver.”

“That’s what Rain Man said,” she said, rolling her eyes without looking at me. She peeled off the thick gloves and unraveled the scarf from around her neck. “It does have a good heater though, you were right about that.”

“Told you,” I said. “I’ll take us a couple of hours to get to my place. We can stop somewhere for breakfast if you like. Or I can phone ahead and have something prepared. There’s an excellent catering service there. I can have anything you want ready by the time we arrive.”

“I’m okay at this moment,” she said, unbuttoning her coat. I smiled when I saw the familiar red sweater under the coat. “Why don’t we just play it by hour and stop if we get hungry.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “So…”

“So…”

We smiled at each other. I said, “So it really is a small world.”

“It is,” she said. “A very small world.”

“So be honest with me,” I said. “You had no idea on New Year’s Eve who I was?”

“Not a clue,” she said, shaking her head. “Obviously, you’re not as famous as you think you are.”

“Obviously not,” I said. “I’ll have to talk to my PR folks about that.”

“Now, you be honest with me,” she said. “You had no idea who I was?”

I frowned at her, thinking that I had missed something, then she giggled and put her hand on my arm. “I’m just messing with you. I’ve spent my entire life being a nobody. If you had known who I really was it would have creeped me out.”

“You’re not a nobody,” I said seriously. “You’re Yates Hamilton & Booz’s top contract attorney. That’s a pretty big accomplishment given the reputation of the firm.”

“I didn’t mean that I was a nobody,” she said. “I just meant that I’ve always shied away from the limelight. It’s not my thing. I like working behind the scenes. That’s why I went into contract law rather than litigation.”