Cait found herself surreptitiously watching Mayor Chandler. Patience was not one of his virtues, it appeared. Expressions flowed across his face—disbelief and exasperation alternated with the expected boredom. He eventually started either making notes or doodling. Cait leaned toward the doodling explanation.
Once he lifted his head unexpectedly, and his eyes met hers. They stared at each other for long enough to excite comment if anyone had been paying attention. There was an openness in his eyes and, she was afraid, in hers, as if they hadn’t had time to shield themselves. Even so, she wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking. She discovered, when he suddenly turned his head, that she must have quit breathing. She hoped the gasp wasn’t obvious when she sucked in air.
She probably should have lingered when the meeting ended, but she couldn’t make herself.
Oh, God. I shouldn’t have taken this job, she realized as she fled. She couldn’t keep dodging Noah. She either had to get inured to him, or…she didn’t know.
Joining a cluster of five people who got on the elevator together, she pushed the button for the parking garage and watched as someone else did for the lobby. There was no conversation; everyone stared politely straight ahead.
She stood aside when the doors opened at the lobby. To her dismay, everyone but her got off. As the doors shut, she weighed the possibility of going back up and hovering until the next group was ready to depart. Nothing but the city council meeting had been happening tonight. The lot would be deserted.
But the doors were already opening, and she saw that the space was well lit. With relatively few cars left, there weren’t a lot of places for anyone to hide. Nonetheless, she reached in her purse for both her car keys and her pepper spray.
She walked confidently, heels striking on the cement floor. She had the passing thought that four-inch heels were not a good choice for a woman alone this late in the evening. Unless, of course, she took one off and used it as a weapon.
Picturing herself brandishing a pink high heel in self-defense almost made her smile.
No dark figures stepped out from between parked cars. She reached her Mazda unscathed and was dropping the pepper spray back into her purse when she saw the rear window. A lopsided heart speared by a huge arrow had been drawn on it in some kind of greasy red paint.
Shocked, she stopped, her gaze involuntarily surveying first her surroundings again, then the rest of her car. Dear God, what was that on the windshield? A crack? Or…?
She backed up, peeked around her car to be sure no one hid there, then took one slow step at a time until she could see what had happened to the windshield.
The same smeary red paint had been used to write in foot-tall letters:
MISS ME YET?
“Is something wrong?” a man asked from behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
HAVING EXPECTED CAIT to hang around to talk to council members, Noah was taken aback when he realized she was gone. He had nothing to say to anyone—what a waste of an evening this had been—so, nodding to Brian Cooper, he left the council chamber.
The elevator doors were just closing. Behind him, voices spilled out of the room. He shot a hunted look behind him. Damn it, if he waited for the next elevator, he’d get stuck making conversation, the last thing he had the patience for tonight. Reversing direction, he escaped into the stairwell in the nick of time.
Noah emerged into the parking garage to echoing silence. He could see only one person—a slim woman in a deep rose suit that revealed mile-long legs enhanced by heels that had to add four inches to her height. Cait McAllister wasn’t a woman who worried about deferring to men, he figured, or she wouldn’t wear shoes that made her taller than most of them.
He was halfway across the bare concrete space before he started wondering what she was doing, just standing there staring at her car. No—her head turned, almost surreptitiously, and then she ducked around to the passenger side. Hiding from someone he couldn’t see? Damn it, from him?
But she reemerged from the space between a concrete pillar and her little hatchback and kept staring at her car. Had she locked her keys in it or left the lights on and killed the battery?
“Is something wrong?” he asked.