Page 33 of A First Sight

“Is there somewhere I can take you?” I asked. “I don’t like the idea of you getting into a cab after what happened.”

I half-expected her to tell me it wasn’t any of my business. Instead, her eyes met mine, and she held them for several seconds. I didn’t move or blink, barely took a breath. Of course, I knew the color of her eyes, but now I saw the tiny flecks of darker blue and some gray and light green, all the colors that made up that beautiful shade of turquoise that was not identical to my late wife’s eyes.

“Will you take me to my brother?”

“Aye.” I said it with the hope it would make her smile, and it did. “I was surprised I didn’t see him here.”

“I didn’t want to have him see me like this in the hospital. I was going to call an Uber. Go to my brother and ease him into the story. My family doesn't know the real Dale.”

She winced, and I noticed the butterfly bandage on her cheek. “What did the doctors say?”

Her hand went up, but she didn’t touch her face. “No breaks or cracks. Just some nasty bruises and one cut. I didn’t even need stitches.”

“And your arm?”

Another smile, but only half of one this time. “I just need to take it easy for a day or two.”

“Good.” We stood there for another moment before I remembered we were standing outside. “Shall we?”

She nodded and let me put my arm around her to lead her to where I had parked. I would take her to Carson and ensure she was safe.

TWENTY-EIGHT

MAGGIE

Drake Mac Gilleain.

My head was spinning. My mysterious lunch stranger was also the man who stopped Dale from hurting me even worse. The man who put Dale on his ass. Drake found me sitting on the wet pavement and made sure I was okay. He stayed when I first talked to the police. He offered to speak with Nehemiah so I could get medical treatment. Then he showed up at the hospital to check on me.

And I said he was like my father.

I was still mortified that I said it. I only meant the accent. It was faint enough that it took me a while to realize Drake was Scottish, and then I blurted it out like an idiot.

No, other than that, this man didnotremind me of my father.

He was older than me, probably closer to forty than thirty, and extremely attractive, even more so than I thought when I saw him at the deli. It was weird, I’d notice such a thing, but after everything I went through in the last few hours, I wouldn’t question anything that went through my mind.

I still felt like this entire thing wasn’t real.

Except, as I got into the passenger’s seat of Drake’s Mercedes-Benz, I knew it was real, and I couldn’t ignore it. And it would get even more real soon.

I gave Drake the address to Carson’s studio and was grateful he didn’t ask questions. Like what I would tell my brother when we got there.

I couldn’t go home.

I knew the police followed Dale to the hospital, but I didn’t know where things went from there. I hoped they had arrested him since I’d agreed to press charges and spend at least a couple of hours in jail before making bail, but I wasn’t about to risk going back to the house. My nerves couldn’t handle it. I needed to avoid everything that reminded me of Dale as much as I needed to stay away from him.

Which meant I needed somewhere safe to stay.

Carson’s building had excellent security, but he also had something better. People who were loyal to him. No one in his building would ever do anything to hurt him or anyone he loved.

He wouldn’t have a problem letting me stay with him as long as needed. When I first moved to the city, he offered me his guest suite while I went to Julliard and repeated the offer after I graduated.

I didn’t worry about him turning me away. I worried about what I was going to tell him. Not only him, but everyone else. What happened was so public, there was a possibility it could make the news. My name might not be included, but I still needed to get ahead of it. If by some fluke, they mentioned my name in a newscast, and I didn’t tell my parents at the very least, it would be worse than finding out from me.

I could ask Carson to do it. I’d tell him and then ask him to spread the word to our parents that way. If Carson told the family I was still processing everything, I might get out of this with little explanation.

“Go this way.” I pointed to the smaller building tucked behind Carson’s building. When he bought the place shortly after graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology, he also purchased the condemned building behind it. He spent a nice chunk of money renovating it. The bottom, he turned into a garage, so he never had to worry about parking. It wasn’t large, but it could accommodate three cars.

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