Protecting Dallas - Page 136

“Okay.”

“Be hungry,” he ordered. “But for right now? Treadmill. Thirty minutes. And I’d better see sweat when you leave.”

Damn. I was hoping he’d forgotten.

“I’ll do my best,” I said. “Been a few weeks though, so I’ll have to go slow.”

Donovan chuckled as he walked away. “No matter how slow you go, you’re still lapping everybody on the couch.”

Four

HOLLY

It was one of those rare glorious days, where the weather tells the current season to fuck off. In this case the skies were a pristine, cerulean blue. Totally unblemished by clouds, they were full of sunshine and warmth and promise.

Despite full winter being only days away, the temperatures had somehow climbed into the sixty-degree range. I had my ass firmly parked on a bench in Washington Square Park. Surrounded by sprawling green grass and skeletal trees that, just a few short weeks ago, had been exploding with fiery fall color.

Little things like that had astonished me the first year I was here. Simple things the locals always took for granted, like golden leaves and thousand-foot skyscrapers. Underground tunnel systems, flinging metal tubes packed wall-to-wall with people in every conceivable direction.

I had my face buried in the most boring of all possible literature: my CPA prep-book. The NYU campus loomed over my shoulder, a constant reminder that I had no less than three big finals coming up next week.

But that was okay. It was Friday. And Friday was my day.

Yes, it was the day I’d chosen to take all my classes. But once the morning was gone, I had the rest of the day all to myself. Friday was when I walked the streets of Manhattan, dipping randomly into shops and coffee houses and bookstores along the way. I went to museums. Saw plays on Broadway. Did anything I wanted, really, once I got my side work done and my studies out of the way.

Even then, shopping the City was like homework for my second job anyway. It gave me ideas on clever gifts to buy. I kept current on the latest fashions, just as eyeballing the millions of colorful people teeming the streets kept me up to date on the latest trends.

Most of all I loved the freedom. Malcolm worked late on Fridays — presumably so he could golf all weekend — so while we were dating I didn’t even have to be home at any particular time. School aside, Fridays were my day off from everything. Especially days like today, which I considered a rare, precious gift.

I flipped the page, trying to keep my focus on more of the mind-numbing jargon. Accounting wasn’t my first choice in life. It wasn’t like every little girl grew up hoping to stick a pencil in her ear and maintain spreadsheets on profit/loss statements.

No, I’d wanted to do other

things of course. Accounting was what happened when I took something I was already good at and added the pressing need to pay an exorbitant rent… even in a rent-controlled building.

Right now though, I didn’t want to think about any of those things. I just wanted to inhale the crisp, fresh air. Enjoy the feeling of being surrounded by grass and dirt again — if only for a little while — rather than tons of glass and rebar and concrete.

I’d been on the bench nearly an hour when I saw him looking; the cute guy on the other side of the clearing. He was leaning against a tree, eating an apple. Staring at me… but not creepily. Almost as if he were looking with a certain, permissible familiarity. Which—

“OOOF!”

My heart nearly leapt through my chest as the jogger fell sideways against me. He came seemingly from out of nowhere. His body bounced from the bench, his momentum barely slowing as he spun away from me with an apologetic grunt and continued to run.

“I—”

Only now he was running away with my bag.

“HEY!” I yelled. “HEY, STOP!”

I looked around, but I’d chosen one of the more private areas of the park. The only person nearby was my apple-eating colleague, who I noticed was already sprinting full speed in my direction.

“HE TOOK MY BAG!”

The cute guy nodded as he flew past, his dirty-blond hair flowing behind him as he sprinted in the direction of the jogger. He was moving unbelievably fast. Taking long, powerful strides with what looked like long, powerful legs.

Oh my God!

A half-eaten apple went spinning to the ground at my feet. I’d never been purse-snatched before! But of course I’d read about it. Hell, I’d seen it in a dozen movies, but none of them compared to the feeling of it actually happening.

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