Flirting With Disaster. Sherryl Woods

we need to get these paintings over to the gallery where they’ll be safe,” she told her. “And then you need to get your locks changed here. I’d do it myself, but I don’t want to leave you alone while I pick up my tools and try to find a lock at this hour. Besides which, we need someone with a truck to take the paintings. I’ll call some friends. We can take care of both of those things tonight. In the morning, if you’d like, we can go to the police and get a restraining order against him.”

      Ellie shook her head. “That will only infuriate him more. Besides, I told you he’d never hurt me.”

      Maggie squeezed her hand. “But he has hurt you,” Maggie said gently. “This is meant to hurt your soul, Ellie. It’s meant to destroy your self-confidence and rob you of something that’s very important to you.”

      Ellie shook her head stubbornly. “I can’t ask for a restraining order. Changing the locks will be enough. He’ll get the message.”

      Maggie had seen the rage in the man’s eyes. She doubted his mood would mellow significantly anytime soon. Nor did she think Ellie should ever risk trusting him not to explode when she least expected it, but she bit her tongue for now. She didn’t want to add to Ellie’s distress. “If you change your mind, I’ll go with you, okay?”

      “Thank you.”

      “Now, let me make that call and we’ll secure your apartment and move the paintings.”

      She pulled her cell phone from her bag and punched in Dinah and Cord’s number. Unfortunately no one answered. She debated the wisdom of calling Warren, who might also be able to counsel Ellie on dealing with Brian, but she doubted he had the tools to deal with changing a lock, and that was a top priority. Nor did he have a truck to help with moving the paintings.

      But Josh could help on both fronts, she realized. And if he’d been convinced to assist with the building of Amanda’s house, then he must have something of a knight-in-shining-armor complex. Fortunately he’d given all the volunteers a card with contact information on it, including his cell-phone number. Maggie found the card in her purse and dialed his number.

      “Yes,” he answered so irritably that Maggie almost hung up.

      “Josh, it’s Maggie.”

      “Well now, this is a surprise,” he said, his tone immediately changing. There was a sexy vibe that hadn’t been there ten seconds ago.

      “I need some help,” she said. “Are you busy?”

      “Maybe you ought to tell me what sort of help you need before I say just how busy I am,” he said, a sudden note of caution in his tone.

      Walking away from Ellie, Maggie spoke in a low voice and gave him a condensed version of what she’d walked in on a half hour earlier.

      “I’ll pick up a new dead bolt and be there in twenty minutes,” he said without hesitation. “You two going to be okay until then?”

      “We’ll be fine. Brain’s gone. He took off when he realized I wasn’t budging.”

      “If he turns up, though, call nine-one-one and then scream your head off till all the neighbors come running,” Josh said. “Don’t hesitate, okay?”

      The genuine concern in his voice was comforting. It confirmed her gut instinct that he was the right man to call.

      “You want me to stay on the line till I get there?” Josh added.

      “I’d rather you concentrate on getting that lock and driving over here like a bat out of hell,” she said honestly.

      “I’m on my way,” he said.

      “Thanks.”

      She turned to smile at Ellie. “Help is on the way. Why don’t I make us some coffee.”

      Ellie grinned. “I thought all Southerners lived on sweet tea this time of year. Lord knows, we did at my house. What is it with you and coffee?”

      “A minor part of my rebellion,” Maggie told her. “I’ve always hated going with the crowd on anything. That doesn’t mean that drinking sweet tea isn’t one of my guilty little secrets. I’ll go pour us a couple of glasses, okay?”

      “Sure.”

      En route to the kitchen, Maggie paused to give Ellie’s shoulder a pat. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”

      “I hope so.”

      “Come on. You know so. I keep telling you how talented you are. I’m an expert, remember? You need to start listening to me, rather than a man who’s pea green with envy.”

      “It’s not that,” Ellie said. “I’m just worried if you store those paintings at the gallery, it’ll make you a target. What if Brian comes after them there? I don’t want to be responsible for him ruining your wonderful gallery.”

      “He won’t,” Maggie replied with a confidence she wasn’t entirely sure was justified. “He knows he can intimidate you, but he won’t try it with me. He’s already seen that I don’t back down. He knows I won’t hesitate to put his sorry butt in jail.”

      But despite the forceful words, Maggie resolved to have the security system at the gallery checked and the locks there beefed up, as well.

      It took Josh longer than he’d anticipated to find a halfway decent lock and then locate the warehouse. Every second of the delay was torture. Despite her brave front, he’d heard something in Maggie’s voice he’d never expected to hear—fear. Despite her declaration that she and this other woman were fine, he’d been tempted to send the cops over there to keep an eye on things. Only her promise to call the police herself if this nutcase showed up again kept him from doing so.

      When he finally found the darkened warehouse, he was appalled that anyone was living in such an area, especially a woman alone. It was clearly a place that someone had hoped to turn into a trendy section of funky studios and shops, but the transformation was far from complete. It was mostly dingy and run-down, with way too few streetlights for his comfort.

      By the time he finally got to the right address and rode the groaning elevator to the top floor, he was cursing a blue streak. Not that anyone could have heard him over the music blaring from the apartment beneath. It sounded as if a garage band on speed was rehearsing inside. No one would ever hear screams over that racket.

      He pounded on the apartment door for what seemed like an eternity before Maggie finally opened it.

      “Why didn’t you ask who it was?” he demanded.

      “I did. Apparently you didn’t hear me,” she said, even now shouting to be heard over the din.

      “How the hell does your friend stand that?”

      “It just started,” she told him. “Ellie says they only rehearse on Sunday nights.”

      “Lucky for her or she’d be deaf by now.” He knelt down and studied the door and the current lock. The door was solid enough. In fact, it felt like steel. Nobody would get through that, he concluded. Add the new lock, and she should be safe.

      “Do you want anything to drink?” Maggie asked.

      Josh finally met her gaze, which he’d been avoiding up till now. Hearing her voice earlier had cut into one very hot fantasy he’d been having about her. He’d been afraid seeing her in person would kick those hormones right back into gear. It did.

      “Nothing,” he said gruffly. “Let me get to this.”

      “Sure. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you coming over here like this.”

      “Not a problem. I wasn’t doing anything.” Except thinking about her sexy body, but that definitely didn’t bear mentioning.

      She gave him an odd look, as if she was trying to figure out what to make of his suddenly irritable mood, then went back into the apartment, leaving a trail