Free Liberating Lacey by Anne Calhoun Page B

set out to buy enough land to build a strip mall or an apartment complex, you can’t just walk into your branch bank and get a loan. You need a commercial mortgage and those deals have far more negotiability than a regular mortgage.”
    “So you don’t work for a real estate company.”
    “I work on commission, making a percentage of the property sale price. The bigger the deal, the more I make. I started out at Western States, made some connections, learned the basics of the business, then went into business for myself when they got out of that market. No, thank you,” she said as he offered her one of the remaining tacos. “I really enjoyed the meal, though.”
    “Glad you liked it,” he said, stretching one arm along the back of the booth. “Is there much of a market for that?”
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    “Absolutely,” she said. “Suburban expansion means strip malls and office complexes. I handled most of the financing for the buildings along Hanover Street over the last five years. Investors buy and sell those properties after the structures are built, too.”
    The bell over the door dinged, as it had all evening when customers came and went, and as it had all evening, Hunter’s gaze flickered over her shoulder to check out the new arrivals. Rather than assessing and dismissing, however, this time he gave a short nod and lifted a hand. A moment later three men in street clothes with guns and badges on their belts came to stand by the edge of the booth.
    Hunter handled the introductions after casual greetings. “Lacey Meyers, meet Officers Tom High, Nat Johnson and Dave Masters. I used to work with them at the Southern.”
    A little self-conscious, she uncrossed her legs and put her feet on the floor. Tom and Dave turned their attention to the soccer game, but Nat, short and compact with thinning blond hair, focused on her with the same direct stare Hunter used.
    “You look familiar.”
    He didn’t. She frowned and sorted through her memory. “I’m sorry…” she began but he cut her off.
    “I worked security at the Memorial Hospital fundraiser. You were there, working the registration table.”
    “You have a very good memory for faces. There were five hundred people at that event,” she said with a smile. Her mother had chaired the annual fundraiser, raising almost half a million dollars for the pediatric oncology department.
    “I never forget a redhead. It took me a second to place you without the ball gown and the fancy hairdo.”
    She felt her eyes narrow, her more formal smile replace the genuine one she’d offered earlier. Her mother, who believed the best defense was a good offense when it came to stifling gossip, had loaned her the gorgeous black Valentino dress and given her a position where she’d hand a nametag to everyone attending the party, her bare ring finger prominently visible. Like Cinderella at the ball, Lacey had been swamped with offers for drinks, dances, a little something from the buffet. She’d gone home with a dozen business cards and called none of them.
    “People do like an excuse to dress up,” she said, and if her voice was a little frostier than before, well, perhaps Nat would get the hint.
    “What’s a society babe like you doing with this loser?” Hunter went very, very still.
    “Having dinner.” She looked over her shoulder at the counter where three taco platters waited in the window. “Your food’s ready,” she said, meeting his nasty grin with her own stone cold look, and turned back to Hunter.
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    “Come on,” Dave said, looking back for the first time from the soccer game. “I gotta hurry. I’ve been late three nights this week and my wife’s getting pissed. Don’t be a stranger, Anderson.”
    “Nice,” Hunter said as the officers collected their food and found stools at the counter. “You held your own with one of the department’s biggest pricks.”
    “I have a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to handling