Page 7 of Kissing Her Rescuer

“Why can't she do it on the phone?” Cameron asked, standing up and setting Carrie back down in his seat.

Two men looming over her might have intimidated most females. But not these two. When she was little, they reminded her ofTweedledee and Tweedledum. Throw their other friend, Nash, into the mix, and it was more like Huey, Dewey (literally), and Louie, Donald Duck's nephews. Each one was as goofy as the next. Although they'd all grown into strong men that were excellent at their jobs, those dangerous glares didn't affect her.

“I have to go because I have to figure out how to conduct an interview if I’m going to be a journalist, which is about all I’m more or less qualified to do at this point in life.”

“But—”

She snapped her eyes to Dewey, cutting him off. “I don't have time to stand here and argue all day. I need to change my clothes and get down there. This is my job, and it would be rude to be late for the appointment.”

Her phone rang, and she pulled it out.

“Geez!” She let her head drop back.

Carrie didn't look up from her bright yellow drawing of a tree. “It must be Zach.” The disrespectful attitude in her voice made Eliza cringe.

She glanced at her daughter. “He's your father, not Zach. Don't call him that.”

“I'd rather him just be a Zach. Someone else's Zach,” she mumbled before she started to hum.

Both men stared at Eliza with concern. Cameron spoke first. “Is he giving you trouble?”

“Nothing I can't handle.” She sent Zach to voicemail. It started again. “He goes through these phases. It lasts about a week. He threatens to take me to court and challenge my sole custody of Carrie.”

Dewey crossed his arms, reminding her of a statute she once saw of Hercules. A tanned man with golden hair and light eyes that looked like the son of Zeus. “He won't get custody.”

The way he said it, with such authoritative certainty, sent a shiver up her spine. She tore her eyes away, unable to look at him. “I hope not.”

Cameron patted her shoulder. “Go get changed for your interview. Do not go into the general population of the prison if the warden wants to take you on a tour or something.”

“Thanks,Dad.”

Dewey stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Do you want me to go with you?”

The personal bodyguard was back in business.

“Both of you chill out.” She pushed at their chests, both rock-solid, but they backed up with her light shove. “I can handle Zach. I can handle my job. I'm a big girl now.” The two skeptical looks annoyed her. “C'mon, Carrie. Let's go see Ms. Iris.”

“But I'm not done.” She held up a paper that was floppy from so much yellow highlighter.

“Take the paper with you, Princess.” Dewey used Eliza's old nickname, again. Did he realize it? “In fact, why don't I take you to Ms. Iris's and your Mama can go get changed for her job.”

“No. I can get her there.”

Dewey held Carrie's shoulders, shifting her in front of him. They both looked at her with such a solemn expression, identical, like they'd practiced it. “You need to get ready. Let me help.”

“And I appreciate the offer, but I can do it.”

Carrie looked up at Dewey and then back at her. “But, I want to ride with Dewey.”

She couldn't pinpoint why it gave her an anxious feeling to let Dewey help. Her dad. Ms. Iris. Becky. It never bothered her when they offered to watch Carrie.

But Dewey wasn't family. He was the man she'd thought about every day, and not as a friend. He belonged on one side of the imaginary line drawn in the sand, and she on the other. Not an inch to give.

“Eliza?” Dewey crossed his arms over his chest again.

“Mama?” Carrie lowered her voice and mimicked his stance.

Dewey's quick, genuine smile caught her off guard. “Let me help. Really. It's not a big deal.”

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