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Even So

Someone was following her. Hitching her overnight bag higher on her shoulder, Contessa was sure of it. Six years ago a strange man had followed her from a restaurant after an aborted dinner with Bruce and Richard. She'd ignored the feeling of fingertips dancing across her shoulders then and only a timely rescue had saved her. She still had the scars on her neck and under her right breast to remind her how closely she'd come to losing things that couldn't be replaced.

The fingers were tightening line of her shoulders and dancing up the bumps of her spine. It was a fight not to hunch in on herself in spite of the self-defense classes she'd taken. ( part 14 )

Even So

"Asked out on a date? You? Who by?"

Contessa looked up from program running on her laptop to the Skype application on her desktop. "Yes me, Richard. I'm only 30 years old. That's only ten years older than you are. I haven't quite been put out to pasture yet."

She could hear him spluttering on the other end. "I didn't mean--" ( part 12 )

Even So

Dropping her keys on the narrow cabinet by the door, Contessa remembered the intimacy of their kitchen meal. ( part 10 )

Even So

Contessa tugged self-consciously at the cuff of her blouse. And then at the end of her ponytail. And then she was smoothing the line of her slim skirt. For the third time. She chalked it up to skirts being an unusual part of her daily wardrobe, but knew that wasn't the reason at all.

"The kid's 13 and is going to be more weirded out by being in a billionaire's mansion with his weird friend than his weird friend's questionable fashion sense," she groused to herself. ( part 8 )

Even So

Contessa rested her hip against the kitchen counter. "So a favor, but not exactly a 'save me from the grasping females' kind of favor. What does that mean?"

"Do you remember the circus incident?"( part 6 )

Even So

Navigating the narrow winding roads back into the city, Contessa admitted to herself that Richard really wasn't a bad driver. He wasn't bad at all.( part 4 )

Even So

When it became clear that Bruce wasn't going to sit on her other side Contessa allowed herself to slide down and lean against Richard. The boy wasn't quite as tall as she was, unless she was in flats or barefoot and he was wearing shoes. Leaning on him should have been uncomfortable, but half stretched across the couch as she was made it work. For now.

Bruce perched on the arm of the couch beside Richard. "What are we watching?"( part 2 )