Page 71 of A Way Out
God, she wanted to hug him.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted instead. “It’s a really bad time,” she added, like there would ever be a good time for him to show up on Vic’s doorstep.
“Who is it, Maria?” Vic’s voice preceded him by about five seconds, and then he stood next to her, blinking owlishly at the rock ’n roll guitarist standing before them.
“Oh,” Vic said, oddly sounding more surprised than confused. “You’re…”
“Oz. Oz Garcia.” He stretched out his arm, and Vic grasped his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Oz,” Vic said pleasantly. “I’m Vic Bernard. Would you like to come in?”
Maria turned slightly to face him. “Vic, I really don’t think?—”
“Yeah, sure, I’d love to,” Oz said, stepping over the threshold, into Maria’s personal space, giving her one of two choices: essentially allow him to hug her or shuffle out of the way.
She shuffled out of the way.
“Maria made coffee,” Vic said pleasantly, leading Oz through the house to the kitchen. “I’ve practiced a couple times while she’s been away, but I’m not great at it. The Keurig is more my specialty. Anyway, would you like some?”
Maria would find it strange that her ex was being so polite to the man he had to realize she was sleeping with—or at the very least, was interested in—except this was Vic, and he’d been bred to be polite to everyone, all the time.
“Sure,” Oz said. “I could use a jolt of caffeine.” He gave Maria a cool look. “Does this mean you spent the night here?”
“Um…”
“I insisted,” Vic said as he poured coffee and pulled creamer out of the fridge. “I assumed it would make Riley more comfortable.”
Vic slid a coffee mug toward him while Oz stared stonily at her.
How had he gotten here? Probably drove, which meant, good Lord, had he driven all night? Either that or he’d arrived yesterday at some point and stayed at a local hotel.
Given his rumpled state, she suspected the drove all night option was the correct answer.
Why was he here? How had he figured out where she—no, Vic—lived?
Meanwhile, the three of them sipped coffee like this was an entirely normal scenario.
“Where’s Riley?” Oz asked.
“Upstairs,” Maria replied. “She’s?—”
“Oz!” Riley yelled, rushing across the kitchen and launching herself at his knees.
Oz, in a clearly practiced motion, placed his mug on the counter and caught her as she made impact, sweeping her up into his arms so he could hug her properly.
It was an utterly adorable reunion.
“I missed you,” Riley proclaimed, hugging him again for good measure.
“I missed you, too, kiddo,” he assured her. They’d been gone for a mere two days, yet he sounded so genuine.
Vic stood near the coffeepot, his face pale. He made no move to get involved in their conversation. He simply watched.
The double beep that indicated someone had opened an exterior door sounded off, and then the steady snap of heels on hardwood announced that someone else was in the house. Since the housekeeper never wore heels, it must be?—
The matriarch of Maria’s family glided into the room as if she’d been offstage, waiting for her cue. She wore a double strand of pearls around her neck, pearls and diamonds in her ears, and her hair was smoothed away from her face, not a strand daring to curl out of place.
A silk blouse with a cowl neck draped elegantly over her torso, complimenting a blue pleated skirt that fell below her knees. Sensible, expensive low-heeled pumps finished off the outfit.
