“Clayton Yorke’s launch party.”
At the mention of the other man’s name, Megan’s pretty face twisted into a scowl. “You’re still going to that?”
Ro blinked. “Uh…yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
“After what he did to you last night?”
Confusion left her clueless, but then, “Crap. That’s right. Brody said he and I butted heads over Clayton, but then we backtracked to try to figure out where my memory left off, and then he spilled the straws, and you came with the drinks, and then…”
He left.
“Well I didn’t see it, but I can tell you what happened after.”
“After what?”
“After that jerk, Yorke, grabbed you like some sort of possessive Neanderthal.”
“He…grabbed me?”
“That’s what Brody said when the two of you got back to the table. He said Clayton asked you out, you said no, and when you tried walking away, Clayton grabbed your wrist.” Concern laced Megan’s hazel stare. “Brody saw what happened and got in Clayton’s face. But he was also mad because he said you kissed up to Clayton rather than putting him in his place.”
“He…said that?”
God, I hate not remembering.
Megan nodded. “I haven’t seen my brother that mad in a long time.”
Great. So not only had she burdened him with her drunk ass, but she’d also prefaced that by making him mad.
“That’s probably why he was acting so weird just now. He’s probably still ticked off at me.”
She was pretty pissed at herself, now, too. For letting herself become so intoxicated, she was missing parts of the entire evening. Important parts, like her letting a client off the hook after getting physical with her, Brody King driving her home and sleeping on her floor.
Taking care of her, even though she’d apparently made him angrier than Megan had seen him in a long time.
Way to go, Ro. Way to freaking go.
“Brody?” Megan tossed a hand towel over one shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about him. You know my brother loves you.”
Ro nearly choked on the sip of coffee she’d just taken. After a few coughs, she cleared her throat and composed herself. “Wow. Sorry.” She patted her chest with her free hand. “Guess it went down the wrong way.”
The bell on the door chimed again, and this time a large group of laughing twenty-somethings walked in. Knowing her friend was about to get very busy, Ro gave Megan another quick, final hug before leaving with a promise to see her this evening at the theater.
Four hours later, her P.O. box had been checked; she’d found a dress she was pretty sure she was going to get for Clayton’s launch party. Her groceries had been bought, and she was finally back home.
Having parked next to the small, one-car attached garage that had come with the property, Ro checked her surroundings the second she got out of her car. From the time she left Cup of Joe to pulling out of the grocery store parking lot, Ro could’ve sworn someone had been following her.
She never actually saw anyone. Still didn’t see anyone. It was just a feeling she got while walking back to her car after leaving Megan’s shop. A feeling that had stayed with her throughout her time at the post office, trying on dresses, and again in the milk and bread aisles.
You’re just being paranoid and feeling out of sorts because you can’t remember half of last night.
Realizing the voice in her head was probably right, Ro went to work grabbing the plastic bags filled with fresh produce, meat, and a few boxed, bagged, and canned goods from her car’s back seat.
With three hanging from each forearm, she fisted the milk jug’s handle and righted herself before using her hip to shut the car door. Pressing the fob in her left hand, Ro locked the vehicle as she made her way through the simple wooden gate leading into her small back yard.
She let it slam shut behind her, not bothering with the latch she never used. The privacy fence was sturdy and well-built, but a metal latch wasn’t going to stop someone from hopping over if they felt inclined to do so.
Her doors, on the other hand…