Although I have to say, I’ve never seen a doctor who looks like him before. He’s tall, and from the way he’s filling out that coat, he’s sporting some serious muscles too. He has hair just past his shoulders. It’s wavy and untamed. I’ve never been one for longer hair on a guy before. Maybe I was wrong. His eyes are a vivid green. He’s unnaturally good-looking. I’m instantly attracted to him. By the looks other women in here are giving him, I’m not the only one. This puts me on high alert. Plenty of non-humans are attractive to us. Like the Venus flytrap secretes nectar to attract its prey. Various other species use this method to attract themselves some lunch. It makes me think of the centaurs. Deadly but beautiful. I shudder.
The doctor is looking at the blackboard on the far wall. He types something on his phone and then drops it into the pocket of his white coat. He heads for the counter, his eyes are back on the blackboard which has the meals of the day displayed on it.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out. It’s a message from him. It’s proof that Mr. Pushy and the sexy doctor are one and the same. My heart is beating rapidly. After almost two weeks of working my way through the underground, of dealing with low-lifes and scum, I might finally have a real lead. This has to pan out. It’s my last shot.
Him: Should I go with the pasta or the chicken salad? I’m starving but trying to stick to healthy options.
I hold back a snigger. A guy like him can eat pasta for days. He is one of those types with a naturally fast metabolism. You can see it just by looking at him.
He stares at the board for a while longer and then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He types, and my phone buzzes in my hand. I open the message.
Him: What, too stubborn to help a guy out? Fine, I’ll choose for myself, but I’m not going to tell you what I decided on. The suspense will kill you.
He actually gives a half-smile. Yeah, my life will end if I don’t find out what Mr. Pushy had for lunch. I shake my head. Now I know why he’s a touch on the arrogant side. I mean, look at him.
I smile, but it’s grudging; I watch the sexy doctor place his order. I watch him head back to his table a couple of minutes later, tray in hand.
I’ve never been one for delaying the inevitable. We’re in a public place. In his place of business. It doesn’t get much better than this for a confrontation. I should be relatively safe here. I’m going to assume that Doctor Lyre Jennings has built a life for himself. That he has a reputation to protect and uphold.
I pick up my tray and walk over to him. I put the tray down and take a seat. His eyes widen, and he frowns. “Um…hello,” he says. “Can I help you, Miss…”
He stops wrapping spaghetti around his fork. It’s a tomato-based sauce with a couple of little meatballs on top.
“It’s Miss Stubborn, and I’m glad you went with the pasta. I had the salad, and the chicken is dry.”
He drops his fork with a clang, and his mouth falls open for a few seconds.
“I’m going to give you five minutes to tell me about Lilith/Gabby, whatever her name is. I want the truth.”
Lyre
It’s her.
She’s here.
The mystery woman.
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms. She’s nothing like I expected, and yet, the way she looks fits with the no-nonsense woman I’ve spoken to and texted with. Her hair is short. Shorter than some guys I know. It’s an inky black. Glossy like a raven’s wing. I suspect it’s her natural color, although people would pay money to look like that. Her outfit would look better on a man too, but that’s where the manliness ends. Her eyes are huge. A light blue. Her mouth is full. Her nose small and turned up ever so slightly. There’s a smattering of freckles on her nose, which tells me she spends quite a bit of time in the sun.
She’s very shapely underneath the shirt and black slacks. Definitely no man. Not by a long shot. Despite her lack of make-up and masculine attire, she’s wearing perfume. It’s floral with citrus undertones.
“Who are you, and why are you looking for her?” I ask.
Miss Stubborn’s eyes dart around the room. I notice that they move between each of the exits. Her back is against the wall, and her hands are under the table. She’s ready. “This is how this is going to work; you tell me everything you know, and then I’ll tell you what I know. Maybe we can help each other find this…woman.” Her eyes change when she says ‘woman’. I also note that she paused before she said it. Why?
“I already told you, Gabby stole from me. I met her at one of the local bars. We got to talking. We danced and had a few drinks. I invited her back to my place.” I feel my whole body tense. “When I woke up the next morning, there were a couple of things missing, including—”
“Your wallet and a watch.”
“Yes.” I nod. “My camera and laptop were gone as well, but—”
She chuckles. Her voice is throaty and deep. “I told you I didn’t believe you. I still don’t.”
I frown. “I’m not sure why you wouldn’t believe me.” I shrug.
She glances at her watch. “You have one more minute.”
“Stop being pushy. Let’s talk about this.”
“Stop being stubborn. I’m not here to play games. Why you?” She looks me up and down. She isn’t checking me out. It’s not like that. I’ve only ever spoken to this woman once, and she’s only ever answered my texts once, and yet, I somehow feel connected to her. I remind myself that I felt a connection with Gabby as well and look where that got me. No, I need to proceed with caution. “Why you and not some other guy?”
“Why me? That’s a good question. I’m a decent conversationalist. I can dance. I’ve been told I’m a good-looking guy. Why wouldn’t Gabby want to go home with me?”
“I can tell you that she didn’t go home with you because of your looks or dance skills.”
“You’re right! I’m a surgeon. I drive a nice car. I’m sure she quickly realized that I was a great mark.”
“You’re saying she’s a con artist? That she came after you for money?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“She didn’t take some crappy watch or your money.” Her eyes narrow. “What did she want with you? Why you? She picked you for a specific reason.”
How can she know that? “All you have to do is tell me your name, and I’ll tell you something. We can share one fact at a time.”
She cocks her head and scrutinizes me for a while. “No. That’s not going to work for me.”
“You really are the most stubborn person I have ever met…or not met since I have no idea who you are. Fine, I’ll start. You already know my name and profession. Gabby singled me out. She came onto me. Bought me a drink. Seduced me.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. We already established that she picked you for a reason. Why? What did she take?”
“You first.” I’m getting irritated. “What happens when I spill my guts to you?” I can guess. “Oh, I know, you’ll leave, and that’ll be that. Gabby or whoever the hell this woman is has something of mine. Something I need back. I’m going to find her. With your input or without it. I don’t need to tell you anything. We can share information, or you can leave.” I bluff. “You do know how to share…or were you an only child?”