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"Have you got a problem with my name along with everything else?" |
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"No, it's just different." |
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"So's yours. What does D.J. stand for, anyway?" |
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She turned away without answering and pushed through the glass doors to the street. Chris followed, staying even with her until she stopped next to a red pickup. |
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"You're not going to answer me, are you?" |
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"Nope." She unearthed her keys from a back pocket and attempted to insert one into the lock. Her hands shook, and she dropped the bunch to the ground, the harsh clash making her jump. |
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Chris bent to pick them up, then held the keys out of her reach until she looked at him. "Why not?" |
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"No one knows my real name but my father, and I intend to keep it that way." |
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Chris grinned. "That bad, is it?" |
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He almost got her. Her lips twitched once before she surprised him by jumping up and snatching the keys from his grasp. In a second she had skirted the front of the pickup and jumped behind the wheel. The passenger window slid down, and D.J.'s voice drifted to him as she pulled away from the curb. |
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"You want to play cop, McCall? Be here. Tomorrow morning. Eight sharp. I'll teach you to play like nobody else can." |
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"Why is she so cold? If she'd just let him, that young man could brighten up her whole world." |
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"That young man has his own set of problems." |
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"You'll learn Christian's problems in due time. |
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