“I don’t want to live in the same city as you, and I’m very rich, so I can make that happen. That’s all you need to know. Also, this deal is only on the table for twenty-four hours, so you’ll need to make your decision sooner than later.”
“I don’t need twenty-four hours to make this decision.” Layla put the contract back in its brown envelope, and held it out to him. “Sorry, but I can’t sign this.”
“You can,” he said.
“No, I came to Pittsburgh for answers. You obviously have those answers. So if you really want me to leave, give them to me. Otherwise, take your draconian contract and go home, please. Like I’ve said, I’ve had a really long day.”
He just stood there, jaw clenched, refusing to take the contract back from her. So she dropped the brown envelope on the ground and walked away.
***
Nathan watched her go, fighting the temptation to run after her. Part of him was angry she hadn’t accepted the terms of his contract, another part of him wanted her to invite him in to finish what they’d started on Friday, and a smaller part of him felt vindicated. She could act as sweet and innocent as she wanted, but the Layla he’d known was still in there.
At that moment he wanted to push his hands up under her scrubs, to remove them himself this time while worshipping every curve with kisses, including the one in between her legs. But he was Nathan Sinclair. He didn’t and shouldn’t have to chase after women. Instead of following her inside, he picked up the contract and started back down the steps towards his car.
Still, he couldn’t resist one last look over his shoulder as he did so. However, what he saw through her apartment building’s glass doors stopped him in his tracks and made him turn back towards the building. On the other side of the lobby, he could see Layla standing outside her apartment door, both hands over her mouth as if she were trying to keep from screaming. Her eyes were wild with horror.
And as he came back up the steps, he saw why. Spray-painted in large red letters down the entire length of her apartment door was the word “LEAVE.”
CHAPTER NINE
“LAYLA!”
Someone was calling her name. Layla tried to answer, but she could not tear her eyes away from her apartment door, which seemed to be screaming the word written on it: “LEAVE!”
“Layla!” the voice said again. But Layla still couldn’t look away.
The voice got closer. “Layla. Layla, speak to me.” A pair of hands grabbed her around the shoulders and turned her around. “Hey, look at me.”
Her shoulders turned, but her neck strained to keep her eyes on the door.
“Look at me, Layla. Come on.” The owner of the voice palmed her face and made her look at him.
She blinked when she saw it was Nathan. “How did you get in here?” she asked.
“One of your neighbors heard me pounding on the door.”
She looked over his shoulder to see several doors stood open in the hallway and quite a few of her neighbors had come out of their apartments. A wave of embarrassment, tiredness, and confusion washed over her. It felt like her insides were crumbling into her stomach.
“Did you do this?” she asked him.
His eyes widened. “What?”
She shoved against his chest. “Did you do this? Were you the one behind my locker, too? You want me gone that bad?”
“No, Layla, I didn’t do this.” He bit the words out, like she had insulted him with her suggestion, even though he’d been trying to contractually obligate her to do exactly what the door demanded just that a few minutes ago. “I’m not married and I would never do something like this to you. Now could you stop accusing me of crimes I didn’t commit and come here?”
He held out his arms to her. And Layla, too tired to question what was happening, all but fell into them, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.
He held her tight. “I didn’t do this,” he said into her ear. “But I’m going to damn well find out who did.”
***
Less than an hour later, Nathan discovered this was actually the second time someone had left her an angry, spray-painted message. He sat next to Layla on the tiny couch in her ridiculously spare apartment while she answered questions from the two officers who had been sent to take down a report of the crime. The two officers were at least twenty years apart in age, and complete opposites. The older one was short and balding with sagging jowls, while the younger one was tall and Latino with sharp cheekbones and dark brown eyes that kept wandering back to Layla whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.
Nathan didn’t particularly care for either policeman, but he really didn’t like the younger one.
“So you don’t have any idea who might have done this?” the older cop asked. “You don’t have any enemies? Any disgruntled patients?”
“No, I get along with all of my patients. And I don’t have any enemies” Layla looked over at him. “None that I know of at least.”
“Why are you looking at him?” the Latino officer asked.
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Because she thinks I might know something about this incident that she doesn’t. But I don’t.”
The older cop looked between the two of them. “She might be on to something, there, Mr. Sinclair. Are there any ex-girlfriends lurking around who might have it out for your new one?”
“We’re not—” Layla started.
But Nathan cut her off with a simple, “No. I don’t do ex-girlfriends.”
“What does than mean?” the younger cop asked.
“I don’t stay with anyone long enough for it to be considered a relationship.” Before the younger cop could ask a follow-up question, Nathan lobbed one of his own. “Why wasn’t a detective sent to take her report? She’s been threatened twice now. Shouldn’t we have someone with actual investigative skills on the case?”
The younger cop’s back went up when he said this, but the older cop just answered, “I’m sorry we don’t meet your standards, Mr. Sinclair.”
Layla laid a hand on his arm. “Nathan, don’t be rude,” she said. “I’m sorry, officers. He’s just a little upset. We both are, but I’m really grateful you came out. And I wish I had more for you to go on.”
She smiled at them, and the younger one relaxed his stance. As always with Layla, Nathan wondered if she knew the effect she had on men, or if she just wielded that wide smile of hers with unthinking abandon.