Page 78 of Stealing Second

“You’re okay, Cora. We’ll give you a minute.” I grab Gwen and tug at her shirt.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have just come here, but”—she grabs her top and throws it over her toweled head—“my father’s away with his girlfriend, and I agreed to meet up with some guy I met on a dating app. He suggested we meet at my place instead of Brews for coffee.” She grabs her pants and slips them on. “He told me he already knew where I lived, that he knew all about me, even things I’ve never told people closest to me. I freaked and stayed here last night. I’m so sorry.”

“You did a smart thing. Smarter would have been to call the cops,” Gwen says in a much softer way than I expected. Honestly, it’s shocking. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and begins tapping on it.

“No.” Cora holds her hand up. “Please, don’t. My dad’s going to freak about this already. I don’t want him to know.” She pulls the towel off her head, and her normally brown hair is platinum blonde.

“Wow, that?—”

“Was stupid.” She bends down and grabs socks out of her bag.

“I was going to say, it looks great.”

Pulling on her socks, covered in kitten heads, she says, “Trust me; it was stupid. He said he likes blondes. I’m such an idiot.”

“I won’t call the cops, but I’d love to see his name and profile.”

She looks up at Gwen. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Then she moves her head from side to side and looks at me. “Jesus, I’m normally not such a wreck, and I have no reason to ask questions when I’m the one who shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re shaken. It’s understood. It was smart of you to get somewhere safe. Next time, maybe call me so I can come get you?”

“There will not be a next time. I’m going to keep dating assholes my age and not older men who you’d think were more mature, but go figure that I’d find one who was a creeper.” She looks at Gwen again.

“This is Gwen York. She’s one of my sister’s best friends, and she’s, uh … she’s?—”

“Going to check out the building out back to see what would be needed to fix it up and?—”

“Puppy spa?” Cora asks as she stands.

“Yeah,” I lie then follow with some truth. “She used to be a police officer, which is why she’s asking to see whatever information you have on this creep.”

“You won’t tell my father, though?” she asks, genuinely worried.

“How old are you, Cora?”

“Eighteen.”

“Making you an adult.” Gwen smiles.

“Right, of course.” She moves to grab her phone, hands it to Gwen, and tells her the code.

Gwen looks at me. “You have coffee here?”

“I’ll make it,” Cora offers.

“No, I got it. You do what you need to do to get ready for the day.”

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Cora asks, and I pull them off. “What happened to you?”

“Cat fight at the baseball game last night. Which is why I’m here early—I needed makeup to cover it up.”

“First, coffee?” Gwen asks.

“Of course. First, coffee,” I agree.

* * *

Cora was completely off her game all morning—for obvious reasons. Add in the fact that she probably hadn’t slept a wink, and it was bad. Me? I wasn’t much better. My reason was obvious, as well, but also, every person noticed my eye. Thankfully, most were kind enough not to say anything. And this is why I like animals better—not one asked, nor did they treat me any different.

---