Prima Donna by Laura Drewry

envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Regan.
    “Your damage deposit,” he said. “With interest. And a reference letter.”
    “Great,” she said, her voice still quiet. “Thank you.”
    Carter lifted her coat off one of the hooks on the wall and held it up for her. Yeah, she was fine all right; that’s why her arms shook so hard it took three tries to get them in the sleeves.
    “Good luck,” Sid muttered. “I hope everything works out for you.”
    “Thanks.”
    Carter might have imagined it, but it almost seemed like she leaned into him a little, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her out to her car.
    “What an asshole.”
    “It’s his building, Carter, he can do whatever he wants with it.” Regan’s shoulder lifted slightly as she sighed. “You can’t blame him for wanting to make a little money, can you?”
    With no good answer, all Carter could do was squeeze her shoulder a little tighter.
    “You going home?” he asked.
    She pulled open the car door but didn’t get in; just rested her hand on it and nodded silently.
    “Want some company?” he asked.
    For a long moment, she just simply stood there looking at him, her eyes dulled by a sheen of disappointment. Disappointment in him. Ouch.
    “Carter, look—”
    “I didn’t mean that.” Carter stopped, grinned. “Okay, I wouldn’t say no, but I’m not a total dick, Red. You want to pretend this isn’t a big deal? No problem, I’ll play along. But I was just hoping you’d invite me over so I wouldn’t have to spend the whole afternoon with Ben.”
    At least she gave him a half smile before she slipped behind the wheel and tucked her jacket in. He clicked the door closed behind her, then cursed every step back to his bike. He jerked his helmet off the handlebar and was about to jam it on his head when Regan’s window lowered.
    “Hey, Carter!”
    A cool guy would have walked back slowly instead of running. A cool guy would have watched where he was going instead of tripping off the curb and crashing into the rear bumper of her car.
    At least he stuck the landing.
    Bent at the waist, he gripped the edge of the window opening and watched her squeeze the steering wheel a couple times before she finally spoke.
    “Don’t read anything else into this.” Her gaze brushed his, her voice a low mutter. “And it goes without saying I’ll be horrible company, but if you want to come over for…a sandwich…that’d be okay.”
    “A sandwich?”
    “A sandwich,”
she repeated with a little more emphasis than necessary.
    “I like sandwiches.” He waited until she looked up at him again before he grinned. “I’ll meet you there.”
    His words barely left his tongue before she cranked the key in the ignition and hit the gas. By the time he made it to the first intersection, she’d already flown down two blocks, blown through the yellow light, and disappeared up the highway. He didn’t see her again until he knocked on her apartment door six minutes later.

Chapter Four
“Scoundrel. Scoundrel. I like the sound of that.”
    Han Solo,
The Empire Strikes Back
    Last night he hadn’t paid much attention to anything but Regan as he’d tripped and stumbled through her apartment, so as he pulled off his jacket, he took a minute to look around. Space was limited, but the apartment was clean and uncluttered, with a plain sandy-colored couch facing the TV and a brown tub chair on each side. A tall dark bookcase stood against the wall and over near the window was a small square wood table with two matching chairs.
    “Can I get you something to drink?”
    “Water’s good, thanks.” Separated from the living room by a narrow breakfast bar, the tiny kitchen damn near sparkled it was so clean. There was barely enough room for Regan to move around in there, so Carter stayed on the other side of the breakfast bar.
    He slid up on the nearest stool and smiled his thanks when she pushed his water toward him. After a long swig, he started