Enemy's Secret

The smartest thing would probably be just to fess up about this whole ride and dinner thing, but I don't want to.

I don't want to see my own disappointment in myself on her face. If I'm screwing up, saying more than a single civil word to Landon, I want to be damn sure that I'm the only one who knows about it.

"How did you get to my place, though, if your phone died and your car broke down?" she wonders.

"Had to get a ride from Landon," I grumble.

"Ooh."

"Yeah. Let's not talk about it."

"He get older and fatter?"

"Nope."

"Well, he can't have gotten as much hotter as you did."

"Pompom. I really don't want to talk about it now. OK?"

"OK, OK. Forget I said anything."

"Gladly."

"After all," she continues blithely, "just another month or so of this case, and then - "

"I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"Whoa." She makes a face. "Fine, then."

"Good."

The rest of the day is on a stressful autopilot: Madison is delighted to see me, even if I am 10 minutes late to pick her up. I call a tow truck to get my car, then arrange for the mechanic to take a look at it as soon as it arrives. I thank Pompom profusely, promise her a payback dinner which she refuses, then go home and tuck Madison into bed.

"This is exciting," Mom says, jiggling her pencil-thin reddish-brown eyebrows, after she arrives a few minutes later. "You haven't been on a date in some time."

"Mom." I glare at her. "I told you, it's not a date."

"Alright then." She pouts. "A meet-up in the late hours with a like-minded acquaintance."

"Sure."

Already, I'm wondering if I should've just bitten the bullet and asked Pamela. Although I'm not exactly dying to be subjected to a Landon-is-a-jerk rant. Even if it's true.

"And as for the identity of this like-minded acquaintance..."

"I told you Mom, you don't know them."

Yes, an outright lie, but not completely. I'm not sure I even know Landon now, after all this time. Anyway, I just need to get through tonight, then I can handle seeing him every few days at the courthouse. Then everything will be like it was before. Landon will be out of my life for good. Thank God.

For some reason choosing my dress takes longer than I'd like - everything either screams 'I'm a slut' or 'I'm a nun' - and I redo my volumizing mascara three different times. I finally end up in a button-up dress that's tight, but not too tight, and forest green. Wasn't that Landon's least favorite color back in the day?

It occurs to me, as I apply a completely different red over my previously pink lipstick, that I'm trying to guarantee the success of tonight with my apparel choices. I'm trying to express 'I don't really care about tonight but I'm being polite and I normally look this good' when in reality, more times than I'd like to admit, when I have a big case going and Madison is being difficult, I get so exhausted that I wear an actual Snuggie around the house.

Eight o'clock comes both faster and slower than I expected, and before I know it, I'm climbing into Landon's Acura.

His gaze lingers on me. "Am I allowed to say you look good?"

"No." I'm careful not to look at him too long, not to let my heart skip more than one beat. I guess he won't be griping about my dress color. Too bad. "Let's just get this over with."

He chuckles. "A ringing endorsement of tonight if I've ever heard one."

"You did basically blackmail me into coming."

"And then I saved the day. So, we even now?"

"No. Not even close." We never will be.

"You manage to get to your thing on time?" he asks.

It's getting more and more awkward, not bringing up Madison. But I don't want him knowing anything more about my personal life than necessary. Anyway, if he did... he can't. I can't have him knowing. End of.

"Yeah," I say instead. "Thanks. I really... appreciated your help."

"I'm happy to. Least I can do."

I swallow. Just a few more hours, then a few more weeks. Then this will be over. Done. Finished.

God, why is his gaze tracing me like admiring fingertips? And why does it feel so goddamn good?

I keep my gaze on the scenery outside - the big box stores, the outskirts of subdivisions. Just a few more hours. That's it.

"Here," he says at some point.

I release a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

"This is it?" I say, my head craning back.

This isn't really where I think it is... is it?

"Yeah." His smile is offhand as he opens the door. On top of this Art Deco high-rise is Balsac's - the most expensive eatery in town. Holy hell. "Always told you I'd take you here one day, didn't I?"