A Ghost of a Chance by Minnette Meador Page A

and propelled him toward the girl. On the way, he snatched the “Evidence” envelope from the reception desk and pressed it into Keenan’s arms. The familiar jingle of his car keys gave him little comfort.
    “Thank you, miss,” the receptionist was saying when they came up. “Just make sure he stays out of trouble.”
    Keenan saw a mischievous grin lighten Isabella’s face when she said, “Absolutely. I intend to make certain he behaves himself. I’ll see to it personally.”
    As if handing off a wayward dog, the man gave Keenan a little push and Isabella grabbed his arm.
    Keenan was too numb to resist her insistent pull as she led him through a glass door and out into a crisp, bright morning.
    He tried to speak once they were on the sidewalk, but she beat him to it.
    “Sorry, Keenan.” Isabella let go of him and fished her keys out of her purse. “There was no way to get word to you that I was coming over. I was checking messages early this morning when I heard yours. I thought it best if I came over to get you out myself. No need to get another employee mixed up in all this.”
    Mortification saturated every muscle turning Keenan’s knees into blocks of gelatin. His heart sank. She’s protecting the company. I’ll be a laughing stock… if I’m still gainfully employed .
    “Look,” he said running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t do anything last night. It was a terrible mistake. I never…”
    “I know.” She clicked a button on her keychain toward a waiting sedan parked at the end of the lot. The tinny beep grated against his throbbing head.
    “You know?”
    “Sure…they told me they weren’t pressing charges. Said one of the other cops wanted to teach you a lesson.” She opened the passenger door and motioned for him to get in. “Said they didn’t have enough to keep you. Lucky.”
    Keenan’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out, and Isabella gave him another one of those special smirks he was starting to like. She slammed the door, glided around the front, and got into the driver’s seat. Sweeping pretty brown eyes at him, she put the key in the ignition and started the car.
    “Don’t worry. This is between you and me. It never happened.”
    “I’m really sorry. I appreciate your taking me home. I’ll never darken your doorstep again…”
    “Not on your life, mister.” She barely glanced at her side mirror when she turned right onto Burnside, cutting in front of another driver, who honked his horn. “You and I had a date, remember? You owe me breakfast.”
    What with his house demolished, his life threatened not once, but twice, and the arrest, the date had completely slipped his mind. Her nonchalant acceptance of the situation floored him. It had to be a mistake…or he had died and gone to flasher heaven.
    “Listen, you don’t have to…”
    “You’re not worming your way out of it, so get comfortable. You want to go home first to change?” She watched the road and Keenan watched her. The silhouette of her jaw line made him almost forget the last twelve hours.
    “Yeah,” he replied absently.
    “Great. I’d love to see your place. I’ve never been to the Hawthorn District. I’ve heard the old houses are awesome.”
    That brought him back to reality with a jolt. His house was a war zone and he knew he couldn’t explain it. He thought as fast as his idiot brain would allow him and said, “On second thought, maybe we can skip the house tour today. It’s a mess. How about I take you on one later this week?”
    Her amused look was difficult to read… a cross between smug and embarrassed. It took her face beyond the beautiful range and brought it up a notch to magnificent. Keenan fought back the urge to touch her.
    “Deal,” she said and looked behind her to slide into the left lane.
    She just missed three other cars as she sped through Southeast Portland like a maniac. Keenan grabbed the “oh, Jesus” bar until his knuckles went white. Isabella swerved around