LITMIR.BIZ

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      Sure you were, Gabrielle thought sourly. Then she turned to Renée. “Let me know when my 2:00 appointment gets here.”

      Renée said, “Your 2:00?” She looked confused. “I didn’t realize—”

      Gabrielle shot her a narrowed gaze, and Renée caught on. “Oh. Of course. That’s right, I forgot all about that appointment.”

      Gabrielle pushed through the door, and Omar followed her. She walked swiftly to the second door on the left, which was her office. When she stepped inside, she continued to her desk. She put her clipboard and coffee down and picked up her phone.

      “What do you want, Mr. Ewing?”

      “I really wish you would call me Omar.”

      “Whatever. Why are you here?”

      “Why are you so hostile toward me?” Omar took a step toward her, and her body tensed. His large, muscular frame filled the room. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

      “I’m not being hostile.”

      His eyes widened. “Could have fooled me.”

      Gabrielle sighed softly. “It’s just that I have a lot to do. And you keep showing up. It’s a little annoying.”

      “Ouch.”

      Gabrielle closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” She needed to get ahold of herself. “I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just... I do have a lot of work to do.”

      “And one of those things is finding the arsonist,” Omar stated. “Clearly, it’s something you’re passionate about. As a firefighter, I assure you that I’m passionate about that as well. So why don’t we sit down and put our collective heads together and see what we can come up with. Maybe there’s something you saw, something I saw...we both might have pieces of the puzzle that can help solve this.”

      It was an entirely reasonable request, and yet Gabrielle wanted to say no. But did saying no make sense? Omar had a good point. Between what he knew, and what she thought she knew, maybe they could finally nab the arsonist.

      Which was what she wanted most in the world.

      She just wished she could accomplish this without spending any more time with Omar.

      “What are you doing tonight?” Omar asked.

      Gabrielle’s eyes bulged. Then she chuckled mirthlessly. “So you’re asking me out to dinner again?”

      “I was hoping you reconsidered.”

      Gabrielle picked up her coffee and took a sip. She needed this. Her temples were already throbbing, and she didn’t need the added distraction of Omar Ewing.

      “So, what do you say?” Omar asked. “Dinner’s on me, of course.”

      “I have a terrible headache, and a ton of work to do—”

      “Which is why you could use a break,” Omar interjected. He glanced around her office. “This place is dull. Uninspiring. No wonder you have a headache. It’s no place to have a meeting.”

      Good Lord, would he never give up?

      “Pick the place, 6:00.”

      “Is that what works for you?” Gabrielle asked. “You give orders, and women just have to obey?”

      He took another step toward her, and her heart began to race. “Consider it the doctor’s orders,” he said. “Because you look like you could use a prescription for fun.”

      “Fun! I thought you said this is about work.”

      “See—look how you reacted when I said the word fun. It’s as though it’s foreign to you. Yes, this is about work. But it’s also about perhaps, enjoying each other’s company...”

      Gabrielle frowned. The problem was, she got the feeling that if she didn’t say yes, Omar wouldn’t go away. He was like a dog with a bone, unable to give up.

      “Fine,” she said.

      His eyes lit up, and something about that made her stomach tickle. The idea that he wanted to go out with her appealed to the part of her that irrationally found him attractive.

      “6:00?”

      “6:00 is fine,” Gabrielle said. “And you want me to choose the restaurant? Okay. There is a place on Elm Street. Italian.”

      “Or what about that soul food place? It’s also on Elm. The play good music.”

      Gabrielle was about to point out that he had suggested she choose the place, but she didn’t bother. “If that’s what you want—”

      “No, you’re right,” Omar said. “The Italian place will be quieter, more intimate.”

      Her eyes widened at the word intimate. “Do I have to reiterate that this is not a date?”

      “It’s a working date. And a place that’s quieter is a better spot to talk. Especially given what we will be talking about.”

      “Oh. Of course.”

      The office phone rang, and Gabrielle could see that it was from Renée’s extension. She picked up. “Gabrielle Leonard.”

      “It’s 1:55,” Renée said. “There’s no one here. What do you want me to do?”

      “Okay so he’s been delayed by ten minutes? That’s fine. There are some things I need to do before he gets here anyway,” Gabrielle said into the phone, making her story up as she went along. “Thank you, Renée.”

      “Your appointment is delayed?” Omar asked.

      “Yes, but I still have a ton of things to do before he gets here. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

      “You’re not going to stand me up tonight, are you?” Omar asked.

      It was tempting. Very much so. But Gabrielle knew that if she stood him up, he would just come back another day.

      “No. 6:00. I’ll meet you there.”

      * * *

      Omar was smiling from ear to ear as he left the Cable Four studio building. Finally, Gabrielle was going to go on a date with him.

      Well, not a date... Not according to her. But according to him, it was. She might be giving him the cold shoulder, but the heat between them was undeniable. In a setting where she could be relaxed, have a glass of wine, he was certain that her icy facade would melt.

      Omar’s charm had never failed him before. He didn’t expect it to now.

      As he reached his late-model BMW SUV, his cell phone rang. Omar dug it out of his pocket and saw Kelly Knight’s face was flashing on his screen.

      He made a face, wondering why she was calling him. She was a police detective, and he knew she was working the case of the arsonist. But any official business she had was with arson investigators, not him.

      “Hello?” Omar said into the telephone.

      “Hey, sexy.”

      “What’s up?” Omar asked, keeping his tone businesslike.

      About a year ago, he and Kelly had been involved. Their liaison had been brief and casual. Afterward, there had been no hurt feelings, and they’d remained casual friends. He and Kelly spoke only rarely these days, when work required it. Except for the occasional text, which was usually some sort of joke she was passing along.

      “I was just wondering what you were doing later,” Kelly said.

      “Meeting a friend for dinner,” Omar replied.

      “Oh.” Kelly sounded disappointed.

      Omar’s

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