Page 20 of Hooked on Dallas
The next day at work, I stride into the office with newfound confidence. My heels click decisively on the tiled floor as I make my way to De La Cruz’s office, a fresh mug of coffee in hand.
He looks up from his desk as I enter, surprise flickering in his eyes before a smile creeps across his face. “Well, good morning, Stevens. Aren’t we chipper today?”
I grin, setting the coffee down next to him. “I wanted to thank you again for the opportunity to help with the trial. It meant a lot, and I learned so much. If another challenging case comes up, I’d love to assist in a similar capacity.”
De La Cruz studies me for a moment, brow furrowing. I hold his gaze, refusing to back down or stammer like I might have in the past. He nods. “You more than proved yourself, Stevens. Consider yourself on the shortlist for any complicated cases in the future.”
“Wonderful,” I say, unable to tamp down my smile. After a slight hesitation, I add, “I was also hoping we might grab dinner again sometime, when we’re not quite so busy.”
Again he seems startled, though not displeased. Rubbing the back of his neck, he averts his eyes with a cough. “Yes, well, I enjoyed your company too, Stevens. Dinner would be...amenable.”
My grin widens as I go back toward the door. “Great. It’s a date, then. I’ll check your schedule and let you know when I’m free.”
With a jaunty wave, I step out of the office, closing the door behind me. I lean against it for a moment, eyes closing as I take a deep breath.
A couple of hours later, I am buried under a mountain of paperwork when he strides to my desk. “Stevens, I’ve got it. The missing piece of evidence we’ve been searching for.”
I jump up, heart pounding. “Really? What is it?”
“Come see for yourself.” He grabs my hand and tugs me to his office, shutting the door behind us. There on his desk are photos of the crime scene we’ve been scrutinizing, but these are taken from a different angle. And in one shot, partially hidden behind an overturned chair, is a glint of silver.
“A letter opener,” I breathe. “The murder weapon.”
De La Cruz grins. “Exactly. This is exactly what we needed to conclusively prove the wife’s guilt. You’ve done it again, Stevens!”
Before I can respond, he sweeps me into a hug, clutching me close. I melt against him, intoxicated by his rare displayof excitement and affection. When he pulls back, we are both breathing hard, faces inches apart. For a long moment, we simply stare at each other, the tension thick between us. I lick my lips, watching his gaze drop to follow the movement.
He swallows, eyes darkening, and lean in. I close my eyes, heart pounding?—
The shrill ring of the phone on his desk shatters the moment. We jump apart as if scalded, heat flooding my cheeks. De La Cruz clears his throat and snatches up the phone, turning away to answer it. I slip out the door on trembling legs, unsure whether to curse or bless the poor soul on the other end of that call.
13
Laura
The shrill ring of my phone startles me from my daze. I glance at the caller ID and my heart skips a beat. Mr. De La Cruz.
I take a deep breath and answer, “Hey, how are you?”
“Ms. Stevens, I was hoping you’d join me for dinner this evening. I made reservations at Chez Antoine at 8 pm. Will I see you there?” His deep voice sends a thrill through me.
I hesitate, warring with myself. Did I dare go? But there is something about his vulnerability, revealed in unguarded moments, that intrigues me.
Pro: The chemistry between us was undeniable.
Con: If it ended badly, I’d be jobless.
Pro: He seemed different with me, softer. Vulnerable, even.
Con: He was still my boss. Totally inappropriate.
Pro: When was the last time a man had sparked my interest like this?
Con: I could read this all wrong. He could just see me as a conquest.
“Ms. Stevens?”
“Yes, I’ll be there,” I say, my cheeks flushing. What am I getting myself into?
