Excerpt: Tangled

Storm was about to shoot a nasty retort to her coworker when the bell above the door tinkled again. Storm’s jaw dropped as she took in the man standing there, looking unsure of himself. She didn’t even notice Eliza’s greeting. She just stared. Even in the well lit store, she recognized him, mostly because he looked like hell. He managed a polite but painful smile for Eliza before he turned to Storm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

It was Eliza’s turn to look surprised. “Sure,” Storm said, smiling weakly at Eliza before she picked up her purse. “I’m taking my break, Eliza. I should be back in about fifteen minutes.”

“Take lunch if you want,” Eliza said. Storm couldn’t quite place her co worker’s tone, but she sounded almost... awe struck.

“Uh,” Storm said, “okay.” She turned to Carden. “Do you want to go over to the coffee shop?”

He nodded. “I’ll buy you a coffee,” he said.

“You don’t have to!” Storm protested.

“It’s the least I can do, after what happened last night.”

Storm glanced at Eliza. Her friend’s eyes were as big as saucers. Storm sighed. Just great. She’d been trying so hard to fit in here, and now she was going to be the object of Eliza’s gossip. She could just feel it. She let herself be led to the coffee shop next door, though she wasn’t feeling particularly charitable at the moment. At the counter, she asked for a mocha, he asked for a latte, and then the two of them got their coffees and found a booth near the back. “So what’s on your mind?” she asked, after she’d had her first sip of coffee.

Carden leaned forward, an earnest look on his face. “I’m sorry about your car window.”

Storm shrugged. “These things happen when you piss off an angry mob. Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“Not really, no,” he said. Storm grunted and lifted her coffee cup to her lips. “I’ll pay for the window,” Carden said after it was clear that she wasn’t going to say any more.

“Can you afford it?” she asked.

Raising his eyebrows, then wincing, he said, “Yeah, I can.”

Storm pursed her lips. “Maybe you should save your money and go see a doctor. You really look like hell.”

“It’s mostly bruises,” he said, “and there’s not much they can do about those, besides tell me they need time to heal.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any internal injuries? You might want to get your head examined.”

“I’m fine, Storm,” he said, not quite snappishly.

She sat back. “Forgive me for being concerned about you,” she said. “It’s just that you got beat in the head, and you might have a concussion or something.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, more calmly this time. “And I can pay for the window, really.” She sighed. “Well, think about it, anyway. I feel terrible that it got shot out because of me.”

“The guy with the gun should pay for it,” Storm said.

“I doubt he will,” said Carden sourly. “But you’re certainly welcome to try and track him down and ask. He might try to shoot you, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, you did keep them from killing me,” said Carden lightly. “I somehow doubt that will endear you to them.”

“Who are they, Carden?”

Carden shrugged. “People who don’t like me,” he said.

“Well, duh!” Storm rolled her eyes. “Other than that, who are they? And you never answered my question about how you found me, either.”

Carden smirked. “I saw a card in your car for Check Cashers. It has your name on it. Storm Allen. After that, it was easy.”

“Should I worry that you know my last name? What’s next, stalker? Are you going to hang out in front of my house?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

“No! It seems like where you go, guys with guns follow.”

“Yeah, because a lot of guys with guns are in here right now,” Carden snapped. “And there were tons next door, too.”

“How do I know there aren’t?” she shot back.

Carden sighed and dug in his pocket. “Here,” he said, flipping her a card. “Give me a call if you want me to fix that window.”

“Thanks,” she said, picking up the card and sticking it in her pocket without a glance. “But don’t hold your breath, waiting for me to call.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Do you want me to walk you back, or can you find your own way to work?”

“It’s one door over,” she said. “Hard to get lost, being this close.”

“You’d be surprised,” Carden said. “If I don’t hear from you again, have a nice life, Storm.”

“Likewise,” she said, “and try not to get the crap beat out of you any more, k?”

“I’ll try,” he said dryly, as he stood up and headed for the door.

Storm smirked at his retreating back and said under her breath, “Good luck with that.” Then she picked up her coffee cup and headed back to work.

Eliza met her at the door. “Storm!” she said, when the door was closing behind them, “Do you have any idea who that was?”

“Yeah,” Storm said. “That was an annoying guy who is stalking me.”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “Carden Brandt is stalking you?” she asked.

“You know him?” Storm asked.

“You don’t?” Eliza countered. Storm shrugged. “Carden Brandt is only the son of Terrence Brandt, who owns the Brandt winery.”

“Okay. And?”

“And they’re filty rich. Loaded. Always in the society pages. Big fish.”

“He didn’t look like a big fish last night,” Storm said. “He looked...” What could she say?

“What?” Eliza asked.

“Like trouble,” Storm said.