She curled her fingers around the cuffs of her sweater. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d like to keep the apartment a little longer. I promise, you’ll never see me.”

He tossed the ball back.

“I’ll give my files to whoever you hire to take my place,” she said. “And you’d better hire someone, Coop, because this isn’t over.” She’d stay on the case even after he fired her. She owed him answers. And a Super Bowl ring . . .

He dropped his feet to the floor, but whatever he was about to say was lost as Jada burst into the office, her Nerf gun nowhere in sight. “Mom was in an accident!” she cried. “She’s in the hospital!”

Coop shot up from his desk. “Where is she? What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Jada began to sob. “A nurse called me from the emergency room. What if she dies?”

Coop grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go.”

***

They had to take her Sonata because Coop had lent out his Audi for the evening. To Karah.

They found her hooked up to an IV and a monitor. Her curly dark hair spilled out in a lopsided corona around the gauze bandage wrapping her head, and more bandaging protected her left wrist and arm. Two police officers stood at the side of her bed.

Jada ran to her mother. Karah winced as she drew her daughter to her breast. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Over the top of Jada’s head, Karah saw Coop, and her face collapsed. “I wrecked your car, Coop. After everything you’ve done for me.”

“Don’t worry about the car,” Coop said. “As long as you’re okay.”

Karah slipped her hand into Jada’s hair. “I should never have taken it. I thought I was being so careful.”

“Cars can be replaced,” Coop said. “You can’t.”

The officers were doing their best to keep their professional cool with Cooper Graham in the room. The taller of the two turned to him. “She said you gave her permission to take your car?”

Coop nodded. “Hers wouldn’t start, and I was going to be at my club all night, so I didn’t need it.”

“My professor invited some of us to her house up in Wadsworth,” Karah said, “and I really wanted to go. If only I’d stayed home.” She gazed at Coop again. “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies. This is why I have insurance.”

“Tell us again what you remember,” the second officer said.

“The road was dark, and there wasn’t much traffic.” Karah looked over at Coop. “I wasn’t speeding. I swear.”

“I’ve seen you drive,” Coop said with a forced smile. “I believe you.”

“I saw headlights behind me, but I didn’t pay much attention. It happened so fast. The headlights came closer, and I slowed down so the driver could pass. He pulled out, and— He must have turned off his lights because everything went dark. His car swerved and hit the side of the Audi. Hit hard. I . . . I lost control. I skidded and hit something. What did I hit?”

“A utility pole,” the taller cop said.

Karah’s hand went to her cheek. “Whoever hit me didn’t even stop to see if I was okay.”

Piper and Coop exchanged glances, then Piper moved closer to the bed. “You said ‘he.’ Did you get a look at the driver?”

“No. I don’t know for sure it was a man. That’s a country road, and there aren’t any streetlights. It was too dark to see anything.”

Piper glanced over at Coop, who threw her a keep-your-mouth shut glare in return. The police needed to know about the attacks on him, but she was smarter now than she’d been a few days ago, and she’d talk to him first.

The police continued to question Karah, but other than a vague sense that the car was large—maybe even a truck—she didn’t know more.

She wouldn’t be released from the hospital until the next day, and Piper told her she’d sleep at their place tonight to be with Jada.

Coop had to get back to the club for the reopening, and Piper followed him out into the hallway. The ding of call buttons and beep of monitors, the smell of antiseptic and sickness brought back those awful weeks before Duke had died.

“I want you on the floor tomorrow night,” he said.

She shook off the memories. “I . . . still have a job?”

“You’re the only female bouncer I have,” he said grimly.

That wasn’t what she was asking, and he knew it. She dodged a food cart. “I’m taking your advice about being a team player,” she said more firmly.

He headed toward the elevator bank. “Glad to hear it.”

“I’m giving you a chance to tell me why I shouldn’t talk to the police about the attacks on you before I go ahead and do it.”

He jammed his finger at the elevator button. “That sounds more like an ultimatum than being a team player.”

“Baby steps.”

A long exhale. “I’ve had enough bad publicity with the bug infestation. I don’t want this splashed all over the papers, too.”

“I understand. But the Audi has tinted windows. The road was dark. We both know what happened tonight was intended for you.”

His jaw set. “I should have anticipated something like this. Instead, I lent her my car. If I’d thought for a minute . . .” The elevator doors opened. “Leave the police out of this. That’s an order.”

The doors slid shut between them.

***

Piper got Jada off to school the next morning, then called Eric. He still hadn’t caught on to the fact that she wasn’t interested in dating him, and he agreed to take her to the lot where the Audi had been towed. As she photographed the streaks of black paint the mystery vehicle had left behind, she knew that Karah’s accident was all that had kept Coop from firing her. As it was, she didn’t know whether he only intended her to work as a bouncer. Not that it made any difference. Nothing could make her give up now.

Eric propped his elbow on the Audi’s undamaged roof, the morning sun glinting off the lenses of his aviators. “There’s this new Italian place I like on Clark. How about it?”

He was a nice guy, and she needed to be honest. “I can’t date you, Eric.”

“Whoa . . .”

“I’m an idiot, okay? Instead of being attracted to a solid, gorgeous guy like you, I got myself involved with a—a—” A solid, gorgeous guy like Cooper Graham . . . “. . . with someone else. It’s over, but I need some space. As I said, I’m an idiot.”