adoration for her BMW. Not that she was considering “being with” Zane Holyoake. No. In fact, she hadn’t even agreed to go to lunch—er, brunch—with him. Although, she might accept a ride back to the office. If he was nice.
“Paint job could use a touch up around the running boards here, but I like it.” Zane reached in his pocket and jingled some keys. Camilla looked around for which car would flash its lights and beep when he pushed the automatic lock button. A decade-old Toyota? A station wagon? A half-totaled minivan?
Instead, he stepped up on the running board of the passenger side door and jammed his key into the lock of the lifted truck. It turned. He opened the door. “I like digging. My friends and I went four wheeling last night, and I had to get it in at the car wash this morning before court. Did you know there’s an automatic car wash on Highway 89 that’s lifted-truck friendly? And they don’t mind mud. The owner went to high school with me. We spent time mudding back in the day.” He hoisted himself aboard and then reached down a hand to Camilla.
She couldn’t move. Or speak—for quite a long moment. But when she did, she managed, “Oh, hey. I’m going to walk.”
“All the way to Tango? In those shoes? When you could be riding in style ?”
His idea of style and hers were on opposite goal lines. Of the Forty-Niners and the Patriots.
“Come on. They’re still serving their breakfast menu, but they start up the lunch grill at 10:30. We can get in at that magical moment of 10:35 where you can get a hamburger with an egg on it. Or a sausage patty, if eggs sound gross.” Eggs didn’t sound gross. She liked them. And sausage. And hamburgers. His hand still reached down toward her, beckoning to her growling stomach. Her toe inched forward.
Then stopped. He was going to pump her for information about the office. He was using her as his stepping stone to the deputy job. She’d seen him manipulate a jury now—and she knew her own limitations.
“Like I said, I had Cheerios not too long ago.” And she had work to do. Work to do, work to do, the mantra chanted in her head as she minced back to the office in her platform sandals and pencil skirt. Tomorrow she’d need a wider skirt to take longer, faster strides—away from Zane Holyoake.
CHAPTER FOUR
Apprehended
Camilla hunched over her files, trying to ignore the stunning show of sunset colors arraying themselves outside her cubicle window. The sun sank below the jagged desert mountain to the west, leaving bars of fiery orange rays shooting through the magenta-tinged clouds, and the sherbet-colored display out the second floor window of the Yavapai County Courthouse called to her.
She had to cover her ears to not hear its siren song.
Tinted glass. Not the best way to experience an Arizona sunset, but better than no view. She’d elbowed her way through the ranks to even land this cubicle with a view of the outside world—a lot of weeks the only way she got a glimpse of it during daylight hours.
“You really should go home, Cami.” Sheldon hoisted his satchel over his shoulder to leave. “It’s Friday night. There’s one of those summer blockbuster movies coming out. Go watch it or something.”
“It’s not summer anymore, Shel. We can’t call it a summer blockbuster.” Camilla tapped the file pile with the eraser on her pencil. “Gotta plow through this, but then I’ll head out.”
“Fine. It’s fall. But in Arizona, fall is better than summer.” No arguments there. “Come on. There’s a lake. We live in the mountains. There are other places on earth besides this office.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “These criminals aren’t going to destroy the whole earth if you cut back to eighty hours a week.”
“How do you know that? They might go free. They might destroy someone’s world.” Camilla took a sip of her Diet Coke. “I’ll leave the video clerk case on your desk. Can you check through it for me