****
Denise groaned. She hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, but the steady pounding at the front and base of her skull were enough to want to go back to sleep.
Going out last night was a bad idea. Drinking was an even worse idea. Denise rarely drank alcohol. One drink was enough to go straight to her head. Her sulking medicine usually consisted of the dairy variety. Now she was paying the price for that deviation from tradition.
What possessed her to get dressed and go to Bolt in the first place? The only reasoning was temporary insanity. She hadn’t been in the mood to be social, but she did want to forget all about Markus and Vivi.
For a while, she had. Now the despair and loneliness had returned, crushing her at full force. She devoted so much time to Markus; certain he’d see her as girlfriend/wife material. She wasted so many opportunities, shot down so many great guys on nothing but a hope.
How silly could she be? Silly enough to have a hangover and a bellyache from her indulgences.
Throwing her long, toned legs—that seemed to be filled with cement—over the side of the bed, she dragged herself into the shower. Denise allowed the steaming hot water to wash over her.
“Get a grip,” she scolded as she lathered lemon-scented shampoo into her hair. “I’m strong. I’m a fighter.” That’s how others saw her anyway.
Denise didn’t take crap from anyone, but she wasn’t a bitch. The people closest to her knew she was a kind person. Those that didn’t? Well, let’s just say she didn’t bother to correct them. She heard the rumors swirling around at work about her slashing people’s tires when she got angry.
Boloney.
Lately, she only added fuel to the fire. Denise had been short tempered and snappy, so unlike her usual self. She didn’t like the person she was turning into, but she didn’t know how to break out of the heartbreak funk she was in. Obviously, ice cream and vodka didn’t help.
The hot shower helped chase away most of the headache raising its ugly head. Denise made a protein smoothie and popped two aspirin to be on the safe side.
What she needed was to let everything go. She couldn’t allow her personal life to leak in and affect her work. So far, it hadn’t. Who knew what would happen in the future if she didn’t nip this in the bud.
Running always helped clear her mind when she was working on a tough case and needed to get her thoughts in some semblance of order and when she wanted to stop thinking about a case she was obsessing over. Perhaps it could help her now.
She rummaged through her drawer then dressed in a purple sports bra and fitted black running shorts.
It had been so long since Denise enjoyed a good run. As soon as she walked outside her apartment building, a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. The sun beat down, casting the world in a bright summer glow. Since it was still morning, the heat was just right: hot but not as bad as it would be this afternoon.
Sticking ear buds in her ears, Denise took off at a jog. She let the rapid beat of hip-hop music flow through her body and extend through her lips as she sang along. The wind blew against her face, taking away all thoughts of Vivi and Markus.
Denise was so focused on running and keeping her breathing in check that she didn’t become aware of the man in front of her until it was too late. They collided.
The bag of groceries he carried in his arms went flying. He stumbled but managed to stay upright. She, on the other hand, hit the pavement, scraping her knee.
A hand appeared in her face. She clasped it, allowed herself to be pulled up but not before grabbing the peanut butter. It was the chunky kind. Her favorite.
She wasted no time apologizing. “I’m so sorry. Let me pick up your things.”
She doubted those eggs survived the fall. Bread and milk, apples and orange juice lay abandoned and sprawled on the concrete.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s…” His voice trailed off as he squinted at her. “I know you.”
“I don’t think—” Denise stopped as she studied the man as he’d done her seconds before. She did know him. She recognized him, rather. Those steamy, sea blue eyes were unmistakable. She remembered admiring them last night at Bolt. “You’re the bartender.” She suddenly felt self-conscious of her bare midriff.
He noticed her hand inching to cover the naked skin and smiled. One corner of his mouth hitched slightly higher than the other side. Cute.
“Yeah,” he answered, dragging a hand through dark, unruly hair. “You’re the lady that gave me a hard time.”
Denise lowered her eyes. The memories of last night hung like a cloud over her head. “I was a little out of it yesterday. Sorry about that.”
He waved her off. “Trust me, I’ve seen it all. I’m R.J.” He extended his hand.
She shook it, realizing she still had the peanut butter. “I guess this is yours. I’m Denise. I completely destroyed your groceries.”
R.J. glanced at the items scattered around him as if noticing them for the first time. “Most of it can be saved. It was partly my fault anyway. I should have moved out of the way.”
Denise’s hands flew to her sides before she remembered she didn’t have any pockets. “I don’t have any money on me right now. I want to pay for your groceries. Do you live around here? I can mail a check to you or bring it to the club. Do you work tonight?” She was rambling, but she felt horrible about everything and there was this feeling in her gut that she couldn’t recognize. Denise had never felt it before.
R.J. laughed, a rich and pleasant sound. “I don’t want your money, Denise. How about you help me pick up the things on the ground and we call it even.” She must have looked awfully pitiful if he was letting her off that easy.
“Are you sure?” she asked with hesitation.
“Positive. I would never lie to a woman who can probably kick my butt.” He winked. “Ms. I.R.A. agent.”
Ugh. She completely forgot about that trio of nitwits last night and using her profession to scare them off. She hadn’t even brought her gun when she threatened them with it. Those were the very reasons she was swearing off liquor for the rest of her life.
Her cheeks grew hot. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Those amazing blue eyes of his glinted in the morning sun. “Don’t be. So it’s true, you really are an agent?”
She nodded reluctantly. “Yeah.” She didn’t like to tell people about her job. They tended to ask too many questions.
Much to her surprise all R.J. said was, “Awesome.”
“You don’t really think that.”
“I do. I’m not a liar, Denise.”
“No. No. I wasn’t calling you a liar.”
He gave her a smile at her panicked expression. “I’m just kidding with you. Better start picking this stuff up. Bus is coming.”
Denise turned her head and caught sight of the city bus chugging its way toward them. The salvageable groceries would be as good as mush once the stampede of people exiting the bus got done with them.
She bent down and joined R.J. in picking up the items. The eggs seemed to be in the worse shape. The slime on her hands was evidence of that. She tossed the carton in a nearby trashcan.
“That looks to be it. Just in time for the bus,” she said once it pulled up and expelled riders.
R.J. hefted the brown paper bag into his arms. “Teamwork. Thanks for your help, Denise. It was great running into you. Literally.”
She smiled. She hadn’t done nearly enough of that lately. “I sincerely doubt that. Anyway, you have a nice day.”
“You too.”
She turned to go back the way she came. Dried egg on her fingers and a skinned knee was no way to complete a relaxing run.
“Hey, Denise.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
The warm breeze fluttered R.J.’s dark hair, sending strands into his handsome face. “I never answered your questions.”
She arched a brow. “Questions?”
“I live in th
e apartment building across the street. And yes, I work tonight.”
She forgot she asked him about that. As good-looking and friendly as R.J. was, she hoped he didn’t get the wrong idea. She wasn’t interested in him in that way. “Oh, um, great. See ya.”
She turned away again, running despite the stinging in her knee. Denise would make sure R.J. was repaid. She liked being in debt to no one.