* * * * *
Darryl’s head hadn’t stopped spinning since he’d watched Sophie walk out of his room thinking he’d betrayed her.
Dammit, he knew she’d be pissed when she found out when he’d been up to, but he hadn’t figured on this. What the hell?
Okay, okay, he had to remember the point here. He put on his clothes as he reminded himself she wasn’t entirely the injured party here. She broke into his room, went through his stuff.
He’d awoken with a slight headache from “Grandma Betty’s” spiced rum punch, and had decided to soak in the big old claw-footed tub in his bathroom, and he fell asleep in the water. Fell asleep…thinking about her, actually.
He’d dropped his truck at Armstrong’s Garage last night after their date, for a quick oil change. The owner was yet another of his bosses’ relatives. He’d walked back from the garage to his room above the Long Branch. It wasn’t that far, and it was a nice night, for December. And besides all that, he was thinking it would serve the same purpose a cold shower would’ve done, because his night with Sophie had left him more wound up than a billy goat on the fourth of July.
There was a tap on his door. He was buttoning his shirt and decided to stop, just in case it was her again.
Idiot. He was an idiot. Why was he hoping it was Sophie? Why was he leaving his shirt unbuttoned in case it was? She thought he was working for her sleaze bag ex. She oughtta know better than that.
He opened the door, saw Jason McIntyre standing on the other side, and resumed buttoning. He ignored the disappointment that rushed through him at the sight of his boss. “Morning, Jason.”
“Morning Darryl. Um, I hate to ask you this and please don’t take it wrong, but I uh….” He shifted his feet and didn’t quite meet Darryl’s eyes.
“What’s up, boss? Just spill it.”
“My keys are missing,” Jason blurted.
“Your keys?”
“Yeah. The keys to every room in this building. I left them in my office, like always, and–”
Darryl held up a hand. “That would explain why I found your cousin in my room when I got out of the bathtub just now.”
Jason blinked. “Sophia?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell? Where does she get off taking my keys and–”
“She must’ve um…been suspicious of me. Yeah, that’s probably it. I must’ve slipped last night, somehow.”
“At the Haggerty House Ball with her?” Jason’s his voice low.
“Hootenanny,” he corrected. “And it doesn’t matter. She knows I’m a PI, and she saw that photo you guys sent me so I’d know her when I saw her.”
Jason was still staring, waiting. After a long moment he heaved a sigh. “What’s going on with you and her?”
“It’s nothing.” Darryl turned around to walk to his dresser for a clean pair of socks and to avoid Jason’s increasingly curious eyes. “We shared a booth at the diner yesterday morning. No big deal.”
“So you had breakfast together.”
“Yeah.”
“And then you took her to the ball. Excuse me. Hootenanny.”
“The tickets were an early Christmas gift from your local Santa. She opened it while we were having breakfast. I just happened to be there. I think she’d have asked anyone who had been there with her instead of me.”
He glanced at his wallet, still lying on the bed, picked it up. “She saw my PI license.”
“Sounds like that’s not all she saw.”
Darryl snapped his head up fast. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You said you were in the tub. Did you walk out here buck naked and give her the full show, or what?”
“No. I didn’t. And if I had, it wouldn’t have been my fault. My door was closed and locked.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“I didn’t do anything inappropriate here.” Yeah, he did. He totally did. He kissed his boss’s cousin, and almost more than kissed. She was the subject of a job. Bad form. Real bad.
“Did you tell her why we really hired you?”
“No. I was kind of hoping you’d do that.”
“Why would I?”
“Because it’s unethical for me to do it, and because I don’t want her thinking I work for her piece-of-crap ex, that’s why.”
“Why do you care what she thinks?”
“I don’t.” Why the hell did he avert his eyes when he said it? “But she’s going to rat me out to you and she’ll expect you to send me packing. You’re gonna have to tell her something.”
“We’ll see.” Jason lowered his head, shook it, and said, “My father wants you at Sunday dinner tomorrow, out at his place.”
“Your father?” The total change of topics had his head spinning all over again. “But I haven’t even met him.”
“Wouldn’t matter. He and Vidalia aren’t very good at taking no for an answer. We gather around two.”
“Tomorrow at two. Gotcha. I’ll…be there.”
“Good.”
Darryl blurted, “Will um…will Sophie be there?”
Jason looked at him, crooked one eyebrow.
“Just because…you know, it might be awkward, if she still thinks I’m working for the bad guy.”
Jason, who clearly saw right through him, nodded. “She’ll be there.”