Hooked

for your room. My computer is off limits to you from now on. From now on, when I go out to dinner I’ll be sure to shut it off and leave temptation for the bedroom.”
    Her cheeks burned.
    “I have the coffees, Colin,” a deep, resonant voice said. A large shadow loomed in the dim light of the hallway. Towering over Tawny, he took up the entire exit, blocking her from leaving. Tawny recognized him, and she could tell by his hard, squinty stare that he recognized her too.
    From yesterday.
    The man staring at her from the quick shop, near Rick Martell’s office.
    The pounding in her chest increased. Get the hell out of here, Tawny. Now.

Chapter Thirty-Two
    The Skinny

    “H ey, I saw her coming out of Martell’s office yesterday,” Reggie said.
    Tawny wasn’t sure what was happening, but she had a feeling she was in trouble. “And I saw you standing at the store nearby.”
    “What were you doing there?” Colin asked.
    “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
    “Yeah? Well, it might be,” Colin said. “Now I’ll ask you again, what you were doing there? And you’d better answer straight.”
    Tawny didn’t like Colin’s tone, but thinking the truth wasn’t so unbelievable, she said, “Mr. Martell does my taxes. I had some questions about the money I’m making here. Now, are you satisfied?”
    Colin and Reggie exchanged glances, but this was Colin’s show. “How do you know Mr. Martell?”
    “What is this, twenty questions?”
    “Answer.”
    Her chin lifted in defiance. “Mr. Martell and I have a mutual friend. I have lots of friends, Colin. And I don’t think you’d want to check with this one to verify what I’m saying. He might be more than a little pissed.”
    Whether Colin put two and two together, or whether he didn’t know where to take the conversation, he backed off. Tawny didn’t want to press to find out why Colin’s friend was in Brooklyn , standing around Martell’s office. She just wanted to get the hell out of the office.
    “Now, do you mind if I leave? I have an appointment in”―she checked her watch―“an hour, and I’d like to go upstairs and have a drink.”
    “I thought you didn’t drink.”
    “I might make an exception tonight after the shoddy way I’ve been treated.” She started for the door and turned. “You know, Colin, I don’t like the way you talked to me tonight. I don’t think Mr. Cooper would either.”
    “Don’t bother telling him,” Colin said. “I will.”
    Tawny wondered if he would. She turned to leave, but Reggie blocked her way. She stared at him. He stared back. “Excuse me,” she said. The man must have gotten a signal from Colin, because he moved to let her pass.
    What the hell was going on? Why all the interest in Rick Martell? So what if she was there? More importantly, why was the big guy there? Who was he? She approached the front desk as if nothing had happened. Charles dragged himself from his puzzle when she approached.
    “Evening, Ms. Tawny. Here early again, aren’t you?”
    Good. He hadn’t heard what went on in the office. “I finished with my business early and didn’t want to go all the way home. I’ll have a drink upstairs before my appointment. Would you sign me in at ten, please?”
    “Gotta sign you in when you get here, same as Ms. Marsha, then I put your appointment time next to it. Those are the rules. Mr. Cooper likes to know who’s here at all times.”
    I’m sure he does. Easier to pick his sursy for the evening. “Of course,” she said.
    He waved the sign-in clipboard. “You’re good to go.”
    “Are you feeling better, Charles? You weren’t well Monday evening.”
    “Huh? Oh, yes, thank you. Had a little bug. I did what you said and took an antacid. After about half an hour, I felt fine.”
    “Glad to hear it.” Tawny pricked her ears. She heard nothing. Should she be worried? She needed to forge ahead. “By the way, do you have the name of my client tonight? No one’s mentioned it, and I see there aren’t any initials next to my name.”
    “Cuz no one gave them to me, Ms. Tawny.”
    “Strange.”
    “Not really. Sometimes when Mr. Cooper is here, he sets up the appointment, and I call him.”
    The doorbell rang. Charles checked out the window, then a monitor off to the side of his desk. Numbers popped up on the screen. The code.
    “You’d better go. We try to keep the clients and ladies separate. That’s why appointments are staggered. Mr. Cooper doesn’t want them