ad. It helps I have a cop for an uncle, and I have access to all sorts of information. And there aren't very many young women named Macey in Chicago. "
Which was probably why someone had apparently mistaken her for a different Macey. Macey Gardella.
"How did you know I lived near Hyde Park? And that math isn't my thing? And what makes you think I don't have a boyfriend?"
He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that charming way. "I saw you get on the trolley toward Hyde Park that day we met on the street. Figured you had to be going home at that time of day. And when you went to pay for your drink at The Gyro, you had to calculate the change. Twice. As for the boyfriend. . . well," he said, glancing toward her, "I was just hoping it was true. "
Macey's cheeks were pleasantly warm. "I see. "
Still smiling, he turned down a side street and began to maneuver into a parking place.
"This isn't the library. " She frowned at him.
"I thought since I was so-called 'late' coming to pick you up I owed you at least a cup of coffee," he said. "Maybe even a sandwich?"
"I'll bite. We can do the interview over coffee and a sandwich. Yes, it's the least you can do-write a story about the library for the Tribune. We're trying to renovate the book processing rooms and could use some publicity for our charity dinner next week. "
Part of the reason she accepted his invitation-if it could even be considered an invitation-was because she was putting off deciding whether she should try to find The Silver Chalice again. But the memory of those glowing red eyes and long, lethal fangs left her no choice. The thought reminded her to adjust the scarf as she waited for Grady to open the car door.
Once again, he gave her legs a long look as she climbed out. "Maybe you'd like to get a photographer here to take a shot," she said as he closed the door.
"For the interview?" He looked at her.
"No," she said. "Of my legs. You seem fascinated by them. A photo would last longer, you know. "
His confusion disappeared into a smirk. "And then I could hang it in my office. An excellent suggestion. " When she huffed, he added, "You should be flattered, lass. You've got gams worth taking a second look. Not to mention other assets. " His voice dropped a little at the last bit, and his smile turned warmer.
More flustered than she cared to admit, Macey declined to respond as they walked into the small diner. Earlier, she hadn't been certain she'd be interested in food any time soon, but now she smelled something good to eat and realized how empty her stomach was. Adjusting her scarf, she nodded when Grady suggested a table in the corner by a window.
Their attention was taken up by perusing the handwritten menu on a chalkboard and ordering from the waitress. But once that was accomplished, Macey settled in her seat, looked at Grady, who was flipping through his notebook, and contemplated her situation. Strange and unsettling-for here she was, sitting in a cafe with a mysterious man who'd tracked down her identity and home, and with whom she'd had an absurd conversation about vampires. . . the morning after she'd been attacked by one.
Could it be coincidence?
Grady removed his hat, and she couldn't help but notice how thick and rich his hair looked-like swirls of chocolate-colored velvet. He had brilliant blue eyes that, in the short time she'd known him, had ranged from light and twinkling with humor to sharp and serious, as dark blue as Lake Michigan on a wintry day.
He looked up at that moment, and his eyes were currently colored in the serious, midnight blue tones. "Miss Denton-"
"What happened to 'Macey?'" she asked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that had settled over her shoulders. "Why so formal?" She hoped her grin came across as breezy as she intended. She wasn't particularly adept at flirting.
"Macey, then. " The seriousness didn't ease from his gaze. "Do you know what happened last night?"
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, then stopped. She didn't want him to think of her as fairy-headed, because she knew damn well what he meant. Her palms had suddenly become damp. She wanted to talk to someone about what happened in her flat-she needed to tell someone. Someone who'd believe her.
But. . . he'd probably think she was loony.
"At The Gyro? There was a raid. " She chose her words carefully.
He started to respond, but the waitress approached and set two cups of coffee in front of them and so he waited. When she walked away, he spooned a single scoop of sugar into his cup and stirred slowly, looking down as if fascinated by the vortex the swirling coffee made. "A raid? Is that all you think it was?"
Macey poured a large dollop of cream into her drink and used three spot.
He dropped his spoon onto the saucer with an impatient clatter. He leaned across the table, his face intense as he said in a low voice, "Macey, there were vampires there. " He speared her with his eyes. Her heart thumped.
"I. . . know. " The words came out in a whisper as she looked straight at him.
Grady settled back in his seat, relief evident in the way his shoulders sagged. He looked at her, that deathly serious expression still there. . . but now it was tinged with satisfaction. "Thank you. "
She accepted and understood his gratitude for her acknowledgment. But she was still so confused and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, she wasn't certain what to say, or even where to begin. As she contemplated how to respond, she noticed a man being seated nearby.