luxury. And now that they were in danger of a dwindling population—
She was talking to him. What did she say? “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” He didn’t want to tell her why. Especially since it was because he was daydreaming while she was talking.
“An appointment for what? Who are you? Who do you represent?” Her eyes narrowed, as though suspicion had overtaken her fatigue and defeat.
“Represent? I’m a scout. Simply that.” This was all he could think to say. Pathetic. His plans of how to get close to her vanished. He’d forgotten his plan. He was worthless. A scout? He could imagine Kal’s voice already. That was the best you could come up with? Now Finn was happy there wasn’t a transmitter in his phone or on his person that would relay their conversations, his blunders.
Or was there? No, surely they’d have told him. They wouldn’t risk that anyway, would they? Risk humans finding out about Asazi by discovering any instrumentation on them if they were captured? No. surely not. Thought a niggling doubt remained.
Marissa cleared her throat, tapped her foot impatiently. “A scout for?” Then another look passed over her face. It almost seemed like recognition. Or acknowledgment. Whatever it was, it was quickly replaced with anger. She seemed angrier than she had been last time they saw one another.
“You work for one of those damned vultures, don’t you? One of those developers that wants me gone. Don’t you? Don’t you? ” Her voice became louder and louder. Her face red. She was still a vision, but now she was a Valkyrie.
He took a step back, putting some distance between himself and her anger. “I’m not what you think. It’s not what you think.”
Chapter 15
Marissa
Just when Marissa was revving up. When she was ready to blast him with both barrels—
—the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And it dawned on her that Belle wasn’t going to answer it. To compound matters, Belle had this look on her face, like she was beseeching Marissa to answer the phone so she could talk with this guy. This Finn guy. A guy Marissa was ready to kick out of her restaurant. Damned vulture.
She sprinted for the cordless. “ Two West Two .”
“Miss Sanchez?”
That voice. Marissa’s stomach felt like it was caught in a speedboat’s propeller. That ass from the bank. She choked back her reflex to cuss the bastard out. “This is Marissa Sanchez.”
“Miss Sanchez, your failure to secure a loan—”
“Just get to the point.”
“Miss Sanchez.” She could just imagine the sneer on his face. The same one he wore the last time they talked. “The sale of the property has been finalized. Effective by the end of the month, you will have to vacate the premises. You will receive formal notice via the sheriff’s office today.”
More like he probably wanted to gloat, but she bit that back. “You can’t do that. That’s less than ten days away. I have rights.”
“When your lease expired, you went month-to-month. Read your lease terms.” If you can read at all, his tone implied .
The room closed in around her, getting smaller and smaller, darker and darker. She took a seat, more like slumped into a booth, wishing she could sink into the upholstery.
Ten days. Ten days to erase all traces of Two West Two . “How am I supposed to do that? To move an entire restaurant in ten days? And where am I supposed to take everything?” She regretted the questions the minute they parted her lips. She didn’t want him to hear the pathetic desperation she felt. She pressed the End Call button and put her head between her hands, resting her forehead on the table’s cool surface.
It was hard to breathe. And for the first time in two years— since Dad died— she wanted a drink. A whole lot of a drink. That sounded like a winner, right about now.
“Marissa?” Belle’s voice had that faraway quality.
“I don’t feel very well. Can you call in some help? I—” Marissa rose,
She was talking to him. What did she say? “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” He didn’t want to tell her why. Especially since it was because he was daydreaming while she was talking.
“An appointment for what? Who are you? Who do you represent?” Her eyes narrowed, as though suspicion had overtaken her fatigue and defeat.
“Represent? I’m a scout. Simply that.” This was all he could think to say. Pathetic. His plans of how to get close to her vanished. He’d forgotten his plan. He was worthless. A scout? He could imagine Kal’s voice already. That was the best you could come up with? Now Finn was happy there wasn’t a transmitter in his phone or on his person that would relay their conversations, his blunders.
Or was there? No, surely they’d have told him. They wouldn’t risk that anyway, would they? Risk humans finding out about Asazi by discovering any instrumentation on them if they were captured? No. surely not. Thought a niggling doubt remained.
Marissa cleared her throat, tapped her foot impatiently. “A scout for?” Then another look passed over her face. It almost seemed like recognition. Or acknowledgment. Whatever it was, it was quickly replaced with anger. She seemed angrier than she had been last time they saw one another.
“You work for one of those damned vultures, don’t you? One of those developers that wants me gone. Don’t you? Don’t you? ” Her voice became louder and louder. Her face red. She was still a vision, but now she was a Valkyrie.
He took a step back, putting some distance between himself and her anger. “I’m not what you think. It’s not what you think.”
Chapter 15
Marissa
Just when Marissa was revving up. When she was ready to blast him with both barrels—
—the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And it dawned on her that Belle wasn’t going to answer it. To compound matters, Belle had this look on her face, like she was beseeching Marissa to answer the phone so she could talk with this guy. This Finn guy. A guy Marissa was ready to kick out of her restaurant. Damned vulture.
She sprinted for the cordless. “ Two West Two .”
“Miss Sanchez?”
That voice. Marissa’s stomach felt like it was caught in a speedboat’s propeller. That ass from the bank. She choked back her reflex to cuss the bastard out. “This is Marissa Sanchez.”
“Miss Sanchez, your failure to secure a loan—”
“Just get to the point.”
“Miss Sanchez.” She could just imagine the sneer on his face. The same one he wore the last time they talked. “The sale of the property has been finalized. Effective by the end of the month, you will have to vacate the premises. You will receive formal notice via the sheriff’s office today.”
More like he probably wanted to gloat, but she bit that back. “You can’t do that. That’s less than ten days away. I have rights.”
“When your lease expired, you went month-to-month. Read your lease terms.” If you can read at all, his tone implied .
The room closed in around her, getting smaller and smaller, darker and darker. She took a seat, more like slumped into a booth, wishing she could sink into the upholstery.
Ten days. Ten days to erase all traces of Two West Two . “How am I supposed to do that? To move an entire restaurant in ten days? And where am I supposed to take everything?” She regretted the questions the minute they parted her lips. She didn’t want him to hear the pathetic desperation she felt. She pressed the End Call button and put her head between her hands, resting her forehead on the table’s cool surface.
It was hard to breathe. And for the first time in two years— since Dad died— she wanted a drink. A whole lot of a drink. That sounded like a winner, right about now.
“Marissa?” Belle’s voice had that faraway quality.
“I don’t feel very well. Can you call in some help? I—” Marissa rose,
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