"This is a raid!"
2
Vaguely aware of chaos erupting all around her, Margo watched Jared retrieve his discarded clothing much more quickly than he'd jettisoned the garments. "Oh, this must be part of the show," she whispered, suddenly wishing she'd skipped the third tropical drink. She giggled at the absurdity of her situation, but Jared appeared at her side and gripped her elbow, turning her knees to rubber. After all this time and everything that had happened, here he was. Touching her.
"You don't know me," he whispered through clenched teeth.
"Wha—"
He tightened his grip and leaned closer. "No matter what happens, you don't know me."
She met his gaze, searching for answers to questions left unasked since college. "For now."
"Thanks, I owe you."
And Margo knew exactly how she would exact payment. Her boss wanted an interview with a male stripper. Well, now there was no doubt in her mind who would grant her that interview. "Yes, you do."
Another uniformed man — definitely lacking a stripper's physique — approached them. "You'll both have to come downtown with—"
"Downtown?" Margo blinked when they started toward the front entrance. "Are, we under arrest? I thought this was just part of the show."
"Not hardly," the officer said, shaking his head.
Margo glanced at her sister, who was being politely but firmly escorted to the door by a pair of uniformed officers.
With a sigh, the apparently legitimate police officer gripped Margo and Jared by the elbows and escorted them through the door. "Outside with both of you."
"Suits me. I seem to have worked up a little sweat." Jared shot Margo a lethal smile — one that rivaled the wattage of the parking lot lights.
"Yeah, I'll say." Margo's gaze dipped to the open vee of his unbuttoned shirt. If he expected her to act like she didn't know him, then she would treat him the same way any other patron at the Studfinder might — as a side of meat. Prime, of course.
Swaying slightly when the officer stepped from between them and released her arm, Margo clutched Jared's muscular forearm for support. He was, without a doubt, the most well-constructed male she'd ever encountered. Of course, he always had been. Despite his incredible physique, she still had trouble believing he'd chosen exotic dancing as his career. Not Jared Carson. Even so, she remembered that he'd studied Broadway jazz in college. Apparently, he'd found a use for that talent.
The chilly evening air was like a bucket of ice water on her rum-blurred senses. She squinted, looking around for Steph in the parking lot menagerie. Suspicion nudged its way into the foggy, semidrunken fringes of her mind.
"Are you really arresting me?" Margo asked, her mouth dry and sticky.
"Not unless you give me a good reason." The policeman pushed his hat back on his head, then nodded toward her companion. "The dogs are going in."
Dogs? Drugs. Maybe there was another angle to this story after all. She fished through her purse until she found her wayward pencil and opened her steno pad to make a few notes. "What reason do you have for believing there are drugs at the Studfinder, Officer?"
The man released an exasperated sigh. "A reporter. I should've known." He shook his head and aimed his thumb over his shoulder. "You're all going downtown until we finish searching the place, then there may be some questions. That's all I know."
Margo shot Jared a questioning look, but he was staring beyond her. His expression intense, a muscle twitching in his jaw, just the way she remembered. When his gaze met hers, a mask dropped neatly into place and another dark curl fell across his forehead. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. A stage smile, but why now?
More important… why for her?
Still, his grin waged a full-scale attack against her composure and almost won. Why couldn't he be a little less handsome and a lot less memorable?
"I'm sure you'll be out so fast you'll hardly have time to read the graffiti in your cell," the policeman said in a mocking tone, "We usually don't hold you yuppies long."
Pencil poised in midair, Margo swallowed hard. "Cell?"
"Just kidding. Lighten up."
"Hey, Margo, you got the cute one. Way to go, sis."
Groaning as her sister was escorted away, Margo rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. "Mom's going to kill me when she hears about this."
The policeman chuckled. "She looks old enough to drink."
Shaking her head in self-loathing, Margo released a sigh of surrender. "Arrest me, Officer. Let's get this over with."
Chuckling again, he led her and Jared to a car, passing two women singing "I Am Woman" at the top of their lungs.
They were being dragged down to the police station, and there was more to this than a night of exotic dancing. She could use this situation to her advantage.
Margo tried to stay close to the door as the car rolled out of the parking lot, though knowing Jared sat mere inches away made it difficult to concentrate. Until she found out exactly what was going on, it might be better if she maintained a safe distance.
She turned her attention to scratching a few more notes about the atmosphere, the way it felt to be incarcerated in the back of a squad car, though not under arrest…
And trying to ignore the heat of Jared's gaze as he sat staring at her through the darkness.
Heaven, help me.
Not a moment too soon, the officer parked behind the police station. They climbed out of the car and went through the rear entrance. In better times, Margo had used the front entrance. She was mortified, though she reminded herself they weren't being arrested. It could be worse. Much worse.
In the bright squad room light, she couldn't help noticing that the other women from the Studfinder looked quite ordinary. They looked like… mothers.
"I want to call my attorney," she said quietly, the rum's numbing effect abandoning her.
"I already did that," Steph said from across the room.
"There you are." Margo breathed a sigh of relief. "You and your bright ideas about how to do my job. Thanks a lot."
Steph flashed her a sheepish grin as Margo slumped into a chair beside her. With difficulty, she ignored Jared's eyes on her from across the room. None of this made sense. The Jared she'd once known and loved would never have put on the show she'd witnessed this evening. And what a show. Her face heated at the memory of his bare skin rippling beneath the flashing lights.
With a sigh, she planted her chin in her hands and peeked at Steph from the corner of her eye, grateful her family had never met Jared in person. "You called Warren, then?"
Steph nodded. "Yeah, but he's out of town."
"Of course he's out of town." Margo straightened and allowed her head to hit the wall with a soft thud. "The perfect finale to a perfect day."
"I wish Nick…"
Margo smiled sadly when her sister left her comment unfinished. If Nick were alive, he'd have had them out of here by now. "I know. Me, too."
"They're sending a new junior partner to spring us."
"Oh, that figures." Margo sighed again, physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.
"Who's in charge here?" a feminine voice demanded from the doorway.
Glancing up at the redheaded woman, Margo noted she was well-dressed and built like Marilyn Monroe.
"I am." The officer at the desk looked up at the newcomer. "May I help you, ma'am?"
The woman grimaced slightly, then smiled. "I'm Raquel Eastwood from Riley and Gray — I mean, Warren Grayson's office."
"Oh, thank goodness you're here." Steph stood and grabbed the woman's hands in both her own. "Can you get us out of here?"
"Done."
The woman's smile took Margo aback, and there was something about her eyes… "So we're free to go?" Margo asked, rising to stand beside Steph.