So with all that logic recapped in her mind about a million times and with her laptop fired up in front of her, Katie searched media blitzes involving Luke that might offer leads on his stalker. She tabbed through a recent story on Luke regarding the thieving, low-life manager he’d endured before Ron took over. Luke had been through some real bad stuff lately, enough to make her sit up and take notice. No wonder he didn’t want Katie around, she thought, lifting her coffee cup to sip. A sudden prickling of heat tingled along her skin.
Katie’s gaze lifted and settled on Luke, who was standing in the entryway, looking good enough to eat for breakfast in faded jeans, a team T-shirt that hugged his oh-so-yummy broad chest, and a pair of scuffed cowboy boots. His light brown hair, thick and a bit mussed up, screamed for well-placed female fingers—not hers, she told herself. Okay. Maybe hers.
“You’re up early,” he said, crossing to the coffeepot and grabbing a cup from the shiny walnut cabinet.
“So are you,” she said, quickly minimizing the computer screen to hide the story she was reading so Luke wouldn’t see it.
“I’m an early riser,” he said from behind and to her right. “It’s a curse. No matter how late I go to sleep, I wake up by eight in the morning.”
She rotated around to bring him into view, resting her arm on the high back of the bar stool. “I wish I had that curse. It would make getting up easier.”
“You don’t want this curse. It leaves you sleep deprived more times than not.” He filled his cup. “I see you found the coffee.”
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, but somehow she knew he didn’t. “I kind of made myself at home.”
He joined her at the corner of the bar, directly beside her, and reached for the creamer sitting next to her computer. “Not at all,” he commented, dumping the creamer in his cup. “Nice to wake up to it already made.” He snagged her spoon where it rested on a paper towel and stirred. Her spoon. He knew it was hers. It was an intimate gesture of sharing that people in relationships did and it sent a silly little flutter through Katie’s stomach.
“That’s what they make automatic-timer coffeepots for,” she said.
He sipped his coffee. “I never seem to remember to put the coffee in the night before.”
“I’m surprised Maria doesn’t set it up for you,” she commented.
He shrugged. “She only comes three times a week,” he said. “She keeps the dust from building up while I’m gone, and it’s nice to have a home-cooked meal when I’ve been on the road for months on end.”
“Where are your parents?” Katie asked. “Are you close to them?”
“They’re in Austin, Texas, where I played college ball. Still my biggest fans and the best people I have ever known in this lifetime despite being my parents.”
Katie smiled softly, took a sip of her coffee. It said a lot about a man when he was not only close to his parents, but spoke openly about how close he was to them. “Any siblings?”
He took a drink and then set his cup down. “None,” he said, resting his hands on the end of the island bar. “What about you? Parents? Siblings?”
She considered dodging the question, but Luke deserved to know who he was working with, especially after all she’d read about him and his past manager. “My parents died in a car crash a few years back,” she said. “And yes, one sibling. A younger sister by five years who was a senior in college when it happened. And in her own words, I’m ridiculously protective of her.”
He studied her a moment, and thankfully skipped the obligatory I’m so sorry remark that people seemed to feel the need to say and that Katie had grown to hate.
“Ron told me you’d traveled with a few high-profile musicians. Is that why you stopped? To be closer to her?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t immediately come home. Nor did I see how shaken my sister was by the loss of our parents.” She’d been too busy hiding from the loss herself, trying to pretend they were at home, still alive. Until she’d found Joey with another woman and realized how much she needed a change.
Then she’d come home to discover her sister’s seemingly amazing husband was a low-life user who’d gambled away Carrie’s life insurance and then some.
Katie shook off the memory and continued, “My father was a retired police detective. We’d been talking about opening a private security firm together. I finally did it last year.”
“You were a dancer turned security staff on tour right?”
She nodded. “Yes. And I know. It’s a stretch unless you know about my father.” She hesitated. “Luke. I took this job at the very last minute, and I was unprepared for our first meeting. I hadn’t seen a file on your case. I still haven’t, and there is no excuse for that. The truth is, I took this case as a favor to Ron, and as he, much to my embarrassment, already indicated, for financial reasons. But I want you to know, I’m good at what I do, and I understand the unique position of being in the spotlight.” She inhaled and let it out, treading difficult water, uncertain how he’d respond. “This morning, I started reading through your press coverage, trying to find things that might point to your stalker. I didn’t know about your manager and your ex-girlfriend trying to embezzle money from you until I read the many stories written about it. Ron should have told me. I mean—he’s your manager, and he’s brought this female into your life in a very intimate role. There is an uncomfortable parallel there I didn’t know about. I can see why you didn’t want me here. It feels unprofessional on our part, both Ron’s and mine, not to address this up front. I’m prepared to make this work, but are you? I have a couple of excellent men I can recommend—”