She got to her feet, and Val rushed closer, hands outstretched. “No, no. Don’t go. I get it. I do. I admit, you kinda had me wondering, but I understand now. When I’m down, I at least have my mom to talk to, and if my mom annoys me, I can talk to my sister. But when your mom is the problem, you don’t have a sister or anybody else to confide in.” As if realizing how pathetic that sounded, she winced. “I keep shoving my foot in my mouth when I should be eating pizza instead. You, too. Come on. Sit down. Let’s eat and talk and have some fun.” She reached into the box and pulled out a slice of pizza, then waved it under Cam’s nose. “Mmmm... doesn’t this smell good?”
“Yeah, it does.” Relaxed at last, Cam smiled and sat down again.
Chapter 9
Two hours later, Val was out cold on the couch and Cam was too wired to concentrate on the espionage thriller playing on the television in Val’s cozy living room. Despite Val’s protests to the contrary, it was clear to Cam she’d intruded on what would’ve been a quiet evening of relaxation and decompression. Not the best way to initiate a friendship.
Since she’d already worn out her welcome, she wouldn’t intrude on Val’s solitude any longer. She wandered into the kitchen, searching for something to use to leave a note. After digging through several cabinet drawers, she finally came across a blank note pad with the foundation’s logo across the top.
Cam smirked and glanced at the snoring Val. “Another work perk?”
Not that she minded. As long as Val didn’t graduate to taking home printers and computers, the occasional pilfered notepad wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Another dive into the flotsam and jetsam of batteries, rubber bands, chip clips, and takeout packets in the kitchen drawer, and she found a pen. She wrote a brief note:
Val,
I’m so sorry to have hijacked your evening. Take Monday off and rejuvenate. When you wake up tomorrow, call Zehra at my spa for an appointment for you. I’m authorizing her to give you a full treatment. You’ve earned it! Then come back to work on Tuesday, refreshed and ready to work.
See you then.
Cam
She left the note tacked on the refrigerator using a magnet of a grumpy-faced Garfield holding a coffee cup with a curlicue of steam. Beneath the cartoon cat’s feet, a box stated “I don’t do mornings.”
Yeah, she imagined Val would have a doozy of a hangover tomorrow, regardless of what hour she finally opened her eyes.
Unfortunately, for her, the night still loomed, lonely and long. She checked her phone. Just past nine o’clock. Great. Nothing to look forward to but the recriminations inside her head when she went home. Outside, the summer air was thick with humidity and sparks of lightning illuminated the dark clouds one at a time. A storm approached. At the curb, the limousine waited, and she opened the door to climb into the back seat. A destination came to mind, lighting up the clouds of her brain.
“Everything okay, Ms. Delgado?” the driver asked, placing the book he’d been reading on the passenger seat. “I wasn’t expecting you to return so fast.”
“Yes, Danny, thanks. Val’s exhausted. But I’m not ready to go home just yet. Let’s stop over at Brady’s Place, okay?” She rolled her shoulders and stretched her legs out. “I could use a game or two.”
“Sure thing.”
As she settled against the black leather and tilted her head back, her driver pulled the car from the curb at Val’s home, aimed for a return to the city.
A short time later, she strode inside Brady’s Place, the official pub of the Vanguard teammates since 1967. The front room was empty, except for the heavy-set, curly-haired man who stood behind the bar, reading a magazine spread out across the polished top. Above him, a television aired a baseball game.
He glanced up at her entrance and straightened to full height. “Hey, Cam. How’ve you been?”
The sharp crack of a cue against a rack of balls, followed by an assortment of masculine laughter, told her there were at least a few patrons in the back. Good. She needed the distraction if she had any hope of sleeping tonight. Forcing a smile through her bouncing anxiety, she replied, “Good, Sal. You?”
“Can’t complain.” He pulled the bar towel off his shoulder and wiped his hands. “What can I get you?”
She slid into a booth near the rear of the room. “I need a vodka club with lime.”
“Uh-oh,” a too-familiar voice said from the doorway leading to the pool hall area, causing Cam to stiffen in her cushy seat. “Vodka lime can only mean another spat with Mom.”
Cam’s eyes shot open, and she veered in her seat to see the last man she’d expected to run into in this place. “Jordan. What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for a friend who’s delayed on the subway. Are those... ” His gaze raked her from throat to feet. “...pajamas?”
She clutched her collar and swiveled to hide her legs beneath the booth table again. Too late, of course. He’d already seen the ridiculous cats and yarn on the sunny yellow fabric she wore. Good thing she hadn’t added bunny slippers to the ensemble. A heated blush rushed into her cheeks. “Yeah... umm... long story.”
“Gotcha.” On a quick nod, he rolled closer, stopping when he reached the edge of her table, his brow furrowed in question. “May I?”
She gave him the go-ahead with a wave of her hand. “Of course.”
Despite the way their last meeting ended, she actually welcomed his intrusion. Jordan always had a soothing way when it came to her blowups with her mother. And since Bertie still wasn’t answering her calls, she’d seize the opportunity to smooth over the rough edges they’d encountered at their last exchange.
“Thanks. I need a place to hide right now.” Jerking his head toward the
