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  “That’s not true. I don’t see you that way, Sierra.”

  “I know. But every man I’ve been with seems to believe it. You know what they say. If you keep repeating a lie, eventually people will think it’s true.”

  Jazmin’s expression changed, conveying sadness. “Oh, Sierra.”

  “Men just can’t see me as a flesh and blood woman, with real feelings and real vulnerability.” She felt the tears sting her eyes. “And Campbell is no exception.”

  Jazmin scooted close and held out her arms, and Sierra let herself be enfolded.

  When Jazmin released her, she gently gripped Sierra’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Listen, girl. You can’t just be laid up in here crying like this. If you want to know where you stand with Campbell, go talk to him.”

  She sighed. “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Jazzy.”

  “I get that. But either way, it’s better to just hash it out with him. Find out what the deal is so you can move forward.”

  She’d been friends with Jazmin for years and had never known her to give bad advice. Snatching a tissue from the box on the table, she swiped it over her face to dry her tears. “You’re right. I need to settle things with him.”

  * * *

  Campbell looked over the piles of paperwork scattered over his desk and groaned. Just a few days ago, he’d finally caught up on this stuff, or at least he thought he had. That was before that fated staff meeting, where Savion had announced his plans to input all the old records from their parents’ tenure into the computer system. Now he had to comb through stacks of handwritten carbon copies from the eighties and render them digitally. His interns were both working on the same project, but the task was so large, he had no choice but to join in.

  He glanced at the clock on his office wall, and saw that it was almost 6:00 p.m. He’d been at his desk for four straight hours, but he wanted to try and tie up one last folder before he headed home for the day.

  There was only one good thing that came of doing all this work. It provided a convenient distraction from thinking about Sierra. She hadn’t reached out to him at all since he’d left her condo the day before, and he was partly relieved. He didn’t know what to say to her, anyway.

  He’d left there in a hurry, eager to escape her clinging to him. She’d spent the whole night wrapped around him like moss on a tree, and generally he would have enjoyed that. But since he’d revealed his feelings to her, and she still hadn’t said anything about her own feelings, he didn’t feel comfortable with her anymore. At least, not at the level he had before. Was she playing some kind of game with him? Was she testing him, to see how much she could get out of him, now that she knew he loved her?

  He pushed the thoughts away for what seemed like the millionth time and set to work on the contents of the folder. His hands flew over the keys as he inputted the data from the forms into the matching form on the screen.

  He heard a knock at his door and glanced up from his computer screen. Surprise hit him when he saw her standing in the doorway. “Sierra. What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk, Campbell.” She appeared somewhat nervous as she brushed her palms over the thighs of her dark denim jeans. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Close the door.” He gestured to the guest chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

  She entered the office, shut the door and sat down.

  “So, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Us. Campbell, I need to know what’s going on between us.”

  He leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers. “Can you be more specific?”

  She appeared annoyed. “Here’s the first question. Why didn’t you seriously pursue a security detail for me, back when I initially made my request?”

  He didn’t care for her tone. “Wait a minute. I told you that I reached out to more than one agency on the mainland about that.”

  “Yes, and you also told me you never followed up with them.” She crossed her legs. “Why not?”

  He didn’t dare tell her what he was thinking, so he toned it down. “I told you these things take a little time. Plus, Sapphire Shores is one of the safest places in the world. We rarely have any crimes committed here, and when we do, it’s usually minor stuff. Petty crime, and mostly committed by people from the mainland.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is that what you call what happened to me? Petty crime?” Her tone grew incredulous. “Did you know that man, who threatened me with a knife, took my purse and damn near slashed my arm open, used a grappling hook to get on the landing? Does that sound like ‘petty crime’ to you?”

  He shook his head. “No. But you have to understand that what happened to you was an anomaly. It’s the exception around here, not the rule. I know the crime rate in LA is out of control, but Sapphire Shores is a whole different kind of place.”

  “So now you want to disparage my hometown.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I grew up in the suburbs, by the way, not South Central.”

  “Sierra, you’re overreacting. I’m sorry about what happened. But Jarrod told me they collared the guy, and he’s off the streets.”

  “That’s true. I got my ID back, as well as my wallet. Everything else is gone, though.”

  “I’m sorry about all that.”

  “Fine. Since that problem is apparently solved, let’s move on. What has been with you lately?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how you’ve been acting lately. The way you rushed out of the condo yesterday. The way you acted as if you didn’t want to be there with me the night I was robbed.”

  So she noticed it. I guess there is something to that whole “women’s intuition” thing. “I haven’t changed, Sierra. I’ve just gotten more cautious.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You heard me tell you I loved you that night, Sierra. I know you did.”

  She felt silent, just as he’d expected.

  He shook his head. “You’ve never brought it up. When we were in New York, you seemed stressed, agitated. And when I tried to offer comfort, you pushed me away.”

  “Campbell, I didn’t—”

  He held up his hand. “Save it, Sierra. You’re beautiful, and you’re a stellar actress. I’m always going to be a fan of your work, but your real life is just too damn dramatic for me.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “How could you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. All this endless babbling about your problems, and never listening to mine. Leaning on me for support, but never offering anything in return. I just don’t have time for this, Sierra. You remind me way too much of Tiffany.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re comparing me to your ex?”

  He said nothing. What more needed to be said?

  She stood. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “If that’s the way you see me, Campbell, then you don’t have to worry about me ‘leaning on you’ anymore. It’s over between us.” With the tears running down her face, she turned and walked out of his office, and out of his life.

  Chapter 17

  Sierra awakened Thursday morning with a pounding headache. Blinking her eyes to adjust to the morning sunlight, she reached up and rubbed her temples in a circular motion, hoping to ease the pain. Massaging helped her headache but did nothing to soothe the ache in her heart.

  She rolled out of bed, headed for the bathroom. After she’d taken care of her needs, she trudged barefoot to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. She opened the fridge and looked inside for a few minutes before realizing she didn’t have an appetite for food. Shutting the door, she brewed and fixed her coffee.

  On the sofa with her cup, she grabbed the remote and turned on the television. She flipped to a twenty-four-hour news station and left it there, even though she had no inte
rest in the headlines. All she wanted was a distraction, something to take her mind off Campbell.

  She’d been the one to end things, and at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. Now she wasn’t so sure. What if he’s the one?

  The ringing of her phone dragged her out of her thoughts and into the real world again. She grabbed it from the coffee table and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Ms. Dandridge. This is Chief Riordan at SSPD.”

  She sat up. “Good morning.”

  “I’m calling you to let you know that we’ve put out a warrant for Mia Leigh’s arrest.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

  “We’ve been searching through and archiving your social media posts, just as you requested. While we were doing that, we discovered that Ms. Leigh had shared your location with someone online.”

  “Oh, no.” A cold shiver ran down her spine. “Was it a public post?”

  “No. But when we confronted Mr. Holt, the man we arrested for the robbery, he told us that Ms. Leigh shared the information with him via a private message. It took some digging, because Ms. Leigh used a service that deletes messages after a set period. But we found the exchange that corroborated Mr. Holt’s story.”

  She dropped her head in her hands. I was wrong about Mia. She really didn’t deserve all the chances I gave her. “What’s going to happen to Mia now?”

  “We need you to come down to the station and talk with our detectives about that. She’s been caught, and she needs to pay for what she’s done.” Jarrod paused. “How she’s punished will be left up to you as the injured party, at least partly.”

  “I understand.” She thought of something. “Just one more question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Any idea why he used a grappling hook?”

  Jarrod chuckled. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it is somewhat humorous. Turns out he works in the props department at a studio in Wilmington, and just wanted to try it out.”

  Sierra rolled her eyes. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  “I agree. And I seriously doubt he has a job to go back to at this point.”

  She could only shake her head.

  “I don’t know if it helps to hear this, but he did say he was sorry he cut you. He claims he never meant to hurt you, just to scare you.”

  “I guess it helps. A little.” Unfortunately, Mr. Holt’s crisis of conscience wouldn’t do anything to heal the cut he’d left on her arm.

  “You know we recovered your wallet with your ID, but we still haven’t retrieved your purse or any of the other contents.”

  “That figures.” She hadn’t been carrying anything particularly valuable, though she did lament the loss of her favorite compact mirror, hairbrush and the few pairs of earrings scattered in the bottom of her bag. The couple hundred dollars in cash she’d had in her wallet would be easily replaced.

  “How soon can you come down to the station?”

  “In about an hour. Would that work?”

  “Sure. See you then.” He disconnected the call.

  She got up and went to the bedroom. Going to seek justice would provide a welcome distraction from wallowing in her mixed emotions about what had happened between her and Campbell. No matter what, she vowed not to be seen in public looking a mess. So she pulled herself together and donned a pair of bright white jeans, a lavender drop needle sweater and a pair of bejeweled ballet flats. Once she was dressed, she hid her tear-swollen eyes behind a pair of large, dark sunglasses. Grabbing the purse she’d been carrying since her favorite one had been stolen, she armed the alarm system, locked up the condo and left for the police station.

  Seated in Jarrod’s office at the station, she was shown all the information he and his staff had uncovered. Of all the images and documents she looked at, she was most affected by Mia’s mug shot. She appeared as a shell of the woman Sierra had worked with. Her hair was unkempt, her face streaked with tears, and her eyes were wide and fearful.

  Sierra covered her mouth with her hands. “Wow. I’ve never seen her look that rough. She had a terrible attitude, but she was always well put together.”

  “Finding out you’re going to jail will do that to a person.” Jarrod tucked the mug shot and the other documents into an orange envelope and sealed the gold clasp at the top. “I see it all the time. Even the wealthiest, most successful people can be reduced to tears when their bad decisions catch up to them.”

  “Did she really send that man to attack me?”

  He shook his head. “No. The messages we found show that she never asked him to do anything to you. She merely shared your location with him. From what we can tell, Mr. Holt did the rest of his own volition.”

  “I see.”

  “Still, what Ms. Leigh did is a class 2 misdemeanor under the North Carolina Cyberstalking Law. She’s going to be fined at least a thousand dollars, and she’ll have to pay you some kind of restitution, as well.”

  Even though he’d put everything away, Sierra couldn’t get the image of Mia out of her mind. “Chief, will she end up in prison?”

  He shook his head. “Call me Jarrod. And no, not for an offense like this.”

  “Okay, Jarrod. I can tell you right now that I don’t want Mia’s money.”

  His thick brow cocked. “Come again?”

  “I may be crazy, but I think what Mia needs is counseling, not punishment. There have to be some underlying issues to explain her irrational behavior.”

  He shrugged. “That’s possible. The arresting officer did tell me she didn’t fight, just sobbed all the way to lockup.”

  Sierra drew a deep breath. “I don’t know why I feel sympathy for Mia. Lord knows she’s treated me like crap. But is there a way we can arrange for her to get some counseling?”

  “You mean, have her committed?”

  “Not necessarily. Get her evaluated, and let a psychiatrist decide if that’s what she needs.”

  “So, you’re saying you’d like her to get counseling as a way of paying her restitution.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sounds reasonable. But that doesn’t offer you much protection if she has another lapse in judgment.” He tented his fingers, rested his elbows on the desk. “I hear what you’re saying about keeping her out of prison. But why don’t we add a protective order, saying Ms. Leigh needs to stay away from you?”

  She nodded slowly. “I can agree to that. I don’t want her in prison, but I don’t want her near me, either.”

  “Great.” He pulled out a pad of forms and flipped to a blank one. “Let’s set up some standard terms. Ms. Leigh is to have no contact with you, online, in person, by mail or telephone, for at least one year. She is also to keep a physical distance of at least two hundred and fifty yards away from you at all times.” He looked to her for approval. “How does that sound?”

  “Sounds fair.”

  He jotted some information on the form. “We’ll also leave this open for amendment. If in a year she’s not completed her counseling, or there’s any other reason to extend the order, we can do it at that time.” He finished writing on the form, then slid it to her. “Initial, sign and print your name on those last three lines, please.”

  She did as he instructed, then slid the pad back to him. “Is there anything else I need to do?”

  “No. We’ll keep you informed of the process as we move forward. Have a good day, Ms. Dandridge.”

  “Thank you.” Rising from her chair, and feeling confident she’d done the right thing, she exited.

  * * *

  Friday afternoon, Campbell settled into his recliner for his eighth episode of Bass Masters. He’d been surfing the channels for something to watch one day when he stumbled upon a marathon, and had been riveted ever since. Dressed in a pair of old sweats, he pulled the lever to raise h
is feet. Grabbing the bowl of popcorn from the side table, he munched as he watched the show’s host do battle with an epic fish.

  This was so much nicer than entering those damn forms into the computer. He’d taken two personal days and hadn’t been in the office since Wednesday night, when Sierra had shown up and ripped his heart out of his chest.

  He frowned, pushing her out of his mind. It was over between them, and while he’d thought himself in love with her, he’d obviously been mistaken. He didn’t need her, didn’t need anyone. He was fine just like this, with his comfortable clothes, in his comfortable chair, in his comfortable house living a comfortable life.

  Pounding on his door startled him, breaking him out of the hypnotic trance brought on by the rolling waves on the television. Who the hell is that banging on the damn door? He rarely ever got time to really relax, and he didn’t appreciate having his peace interrupted. He lowered his feet, grumbling as he rose from his chair to answer the door. This had better be good.

  When he yanked open the door, he found his brother standing on his porch. “Savion, what do you want?”

  Dressed in his work attire of a dark suit and tie, Savion looked him up and down, his expression disapproving. “I want you to move so I can come in.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t want any visitors.”

  Savion rolled his eyes, pushing past him into the house. “I’m not a visitor. I’m family.”

  With a deep sigh, Campbell shut the door. “Thanks for the reminder. Now that you’ve invited yourself inside my house, maybe you can tell me what you want.”

  Savion stood by the recliner, pointing to the mess of crumpled napkins, empty soda cans and dropped popcorn kernels. “Gave the maid the week off?”

  He pushed past his brother and flopped back down in his chair. “Nah. She just does a terrible job.” On the heels of his flip remark about his nonexistent maid, Campbell refocused his attention on the television.

  Savion inhaled, then crinkled his nose. “Bro, when’s the last time you showered?”