Free Wayward Dreams by Gail McFarland Page B

clause. You tell him I have nothing; he already saw to that.” Stepping back, she jerked the door wider. “And you tell him he can’t just ride through my life like this, trying to scare me. That won’t work, because this is just business.”
    â€œThere are limits, Ms. Coltrane.”
    â€œEviction is one of my limits. Throwing me out without notice and his threatening call already crossed most of the others.”
    Christian started to say something, then thought better of it. He’d never been punched by a woman, and this woman looked ready to throw one. His retainer didn’t cover that. “I’ll tell him,” he said, stepping through the door and heading for his car.
    â€œYeah, you just do that little thing,” Bianca muttered, watching him drive away.
    She wanted to slam the door, but it was the room’s only light source, and, for the moment, she was a little bit afraid of the dark. What else might be lurking, just waiting to jump out at her? Hitching her purse higher, she stepped back into the shadowy confines of Vive la Reine.
    Not thinking, she brought her now-grimy hands to her face. “Who am I trying to fool? I don’t have the money and don’t have a clue as to where I can get any.” She dropped her hands and looked around. “Martin at least gave me the rest of the month.”
    Needing to do something, she wandered the rooms that comprised the whole of Vive la Reine. Dumping her large purse on what was left of a display case, she smoothed a hand across the dusty top and gasped when her finger caught on a sliver of glass. She pressed the small wound with her fingers and watched the blood droplet swell on her dirty finger. Never thought I would actually have to spill blood for this place.
    â€œOh, my goodness, what did you do?”
    Julia’s voice brought Bianca’s head up. “Nothing,” she blurted, wiping her finger against her jeans. “It’s just a little scratch, is all.”
    â€œReally? Let me see.” Julia located a small penlight on her key ring. Flicking it on, she reached, gripping Bianca’s wrist when she tried to pull her hand back.
    â€œIt’s nothing.”
    â€œSure. Now. But with all this dirt and stuff in here, it can get infected. Where will you be then?” Julia asked, juggling the light. Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a small first-aid kit and went to work cleaning and bandaging her sister’s finger. “There.”
    Bianca looked at her finger and sniffed, then a small smile dawned. “Is this part of that sister thing?”
    â€œYeah, I suppose it is.” Julia grinned.
    â€œWell, thanks, I guess.” Bianca looked down, pressed her fingers over the band-aid. “So, what are you doing here, anyway?”
    â€œYou are, like, so uncomfortable with me, aren’t you? Never mind, you just are, and I guess I have to live with that.” A deep sigh punctuated Julia’s words, when she took her purse and turned toward the door. “Come on, I brought coffee. It’s in my car.”
    â€œYou brought coffee, but you didn’t bring it in?”
    Julia aimed her penlight at the ruined walls and floor. “Dark, scary, and dirty—we might get Legionnaires’ disease or something in here. Come on, I have wipes in the car.”
    Bianca shouldered her bag and walked behind her sister. “Clean freak.”
    â€œI heard that.”
    Determined not to apologize, Bianca followed her sister to her car and gratefully accepted the hand wipes, coffee, and a glazed donut. “Thanks,” she finally said.
    â€œThat didn’t hurt, now did it?”
    â€œGloating does not become you,” Bianca muttered into her coffee. “What brought you out here? How did you know I would be here?”
    â€œI tried to call you, but couldn’t get through—I think your phone is dead.”
    When Bianca flipped her phone open, it