Her gut screamed to let it go, but something else told her to answer:
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Answer me or I’m hanging up.”
“SeeSee,” the voice sobbed. “Is that you?”
Izzy stiffened at the endearment. SeeSee was what her half sister, Alex had called her when they were growing up because she couldn’t pronounce sister. The irony was that they didn’t know they were actually sisters until they were eleven, the day Izzy learned that Alex’s father was also her’s. Yup, Izzy was born a cliché. Her dad the rich and powerful lord of the manor was boinking the nanny at the same time he was boinking his wife. Dude was eating his Wheaties. Alex was just six months younger than Izzy.
“Please, SeeSee, I need help!”
“Then call someone who cares.”
Izzy was about to hang up when Alex said, “We are sisters!”
“Half sisters. My enemies have been nicer to me than you have, Alex.”
“I couldn’t reach out, Mother was always watching.”
“How did you get my number?”
“I paid a PI a hundred bucks to track you down.”
“So you found me, now forget me. I forgot about you a long time ago.”
“SeeSee please—”
“Stop calling me that! I’m not your sister anymore.”
“Iz, I think someone’s trying to kill me. I don’t know what to do!”
Alex’s words shook Izzy’s resolve, but she held steadfast to her guns. She was over being shunned by what was left of her blood family.
“Call daddy dearest. He’ll fix it just like he always does.”
The pause that followed was so long, Izzy thought Alex had hung up.
“Alex?”
“I think it’s him,” Alex whispered, her voice trembling. “Someone’s coming, I have to go. Please say you’ll help me.”
“Him who? Who’s him?”
“Meet me, please.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the Surf’s Up in the city, but I can leave early and meet you at Café Bellatrix on Geary. In an hour okay?”
Izzy squeezed her eyes shut. Every part of her screamed this was a huge mistake. Getting involved with Alexandra Chastain, her half sister and only surviving child of Senator and Mrs. Chastain, would set her up for more hurt. She’d moved on, and she didn’t want to rip open that scab of her former life.
“SeeSee?”
“I’m sorry, Alex, but I can’t.”
“I’m your only living blood! See, please. Don’t desert me when I need you the most.”
“It’s what you did to me. Don’t call me again.”
That was the last time she’d spoken to Alex. For the following three days she replayed the conversation in her head. For those three days she debated calling her back. On the fourth day, she called the number. It had been disconnected. On the fifth day, she applied at the Surf’s Up and was hired on the spot. Izzy didn’t know any more today about what had happened to Alex, with the exception of what she learned last night about the video scheme she’d participated in, then she did the day she was hired. It was as if Alex had disappeared into thin air.
Taking a bowl from the cabinet, Izzy cracked the egg against the edge so hard it splattered on the counter, the yolk and whites full of shell. “Oh, hell,” she cursed and shoved it away. Grabbing the piece of cheese and the orange, she plopped down on the chair at the little table and peeled the plastic off the cheese food. Just as she took a bite there was a knock at the back door. She jerked her head back and the cheese caught in her throat when she recognized the tall silhouette. He’d come back.
Coughing, she gulped a sip of hot coffee and cringed as it burned going down.
“Go away,” she called, wishing he’d burst through the door and tell her he was never leaving. She was crazy. Cray-zee. She needed to focus. She’d lived without sex for twenty-four years and she’d live another twenty-four without it if she had to. Her priorities were simple: Find Alex, start law school in the fall, graduate with honors, then get a job and support herself, depending on no one for anything. Ever.
“I’m hungry,” Flynn said from the other side of the door. He sounded pouty. It made her smile.
“There’s a Denny’s down the street.”
“I don’t want to go alone.”
“There’re plenty of hookers on the other end of 34th who would be happy to accompany you.”
“I don’t want a hooker, I want a stripper.”
Izzy smiled. “This stripper doesn’t do mornings after.”
“How can you say that when this is your first morning after?”
“It’s a rule I just instituted.”
He opened the door and walked in. Damn, she forgot to lock it when she’d gone to see if he was lingering in the driveway. He looked so damn hot she about launched into him. His hair wasn’t all perfect like it had been at the club. It was dry and though short, it was tousled and sexy. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble on his face accentuated his sensuality. Those ridiculous electric blue eyes focused intently on her. Damn, he was good looking. That face, coupled with that tall athletic body of his, made a woman think twice about the consequences of just going with it for as long as she could.
“You look better without all that makeup,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb at the threshold. That was the second time he had told her that. She was a “less is more” kind of girl when it came to cosmetics. Except when she was at the club. Then she caked it on to change her features, so as not to be recognized in public. She’d never come face-to-face with a club patron, so she didn’t know how well her camouflage worked.
“You look better not all slicked up.” She grinned again. “I bet you rock the hell out of a suit.”
He grinned back. “I’m hungry.”
“So you’ve said.”
He looked around the kitchen, saw the bowl with the broken oozy egg and the piece of half-eaten cheese. Without a word, he unfolded his long arms, crossed to the refrigerator and opened it. He looked over his shoulder at her and said, “How do you expect to have the energy to strip if you don’t eat a nourishing breakfast?”
She stood and slammed the door shut. “I have to go shopping.”
He looked around the room. “How do you afford this if you can’t afford to stock your fridge?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can afford to feed myself, thank you very much, I just haven’t gone shopping lately. I’m a busy girl,” she lied. Well, she was busy. Between school, the club, and her other job as a research assistant to Professor Gamble, she had little time for much of anything. “Plus I have a roommate.”
His eyes sparked in surprise. “Did we keep her up last night?”
“He is gone for the next few days.”
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. “You live with a guy?”
“Yes. Is this where you tell me you don’t like me having a male roommate and that I should kick him out and find a female instead?”