RESIDENT EVIL PIERSHERRY

Chapter 10

SHERRY CHECKED HER watch, wondering what the statute of
limitations was before a woman--clearly dressed for a date--sitting alone at a
table in one of the most romantic restaurants in the city began to look wholly
pathetic.
She would finish her glass of wine, she told herself. She'd treated
herself to a 2006 Stags' Leap petite syrah, unwilling to let the evening be a
total waste.
Max had stood her up.
Technically, she supposed, he hadn't actually stood her up, because
he'd texted her--oh yes, a text message, as if he didn't have a moment to
spare for a phone call--to let her know that he was stuck in a meeting with a
client and wouldn't be able to make it. A lot of help that had been, seeing how
she'd already arrived at the restaurant and been seated at the time he sent
his message. She'd ordered a drink when the waiter came by her table,
hoping to pull off some sort of chic, nonchalant, "Oh no, just one
tonight--after a hard day of work, I often unwind alone in five-star restaurants
with a richly aromatic Rhone varietal" type vibe. Given the slit in her dress
and her knock-out high heels (if she did say so herself), she doubted anyone,
including the waiter, was fooled.
When she hadn't immediately answered Max's text message, wanting
to calm down first, he'd sent her another message asking when they could
reschedule their date. Again. In response, she'd sent a message saying that
she would check her calendar for the month of Probably Never, Buddy and
get back to him. Then, thinking Max might have a thing or two to text in
response to that, she'd turned down the ringer on her phone, not wanting to
disturb the other restaurant guests with further incoming message beeps.
Frankly, at that point, she didn't want Max bothering her, either.
As Sherry finished her wine, she looked out the window, taking in
the view of the lake and reflecting upon those things a single woman in her
thirties tended to think about when sitting alone in a restaurant. Her best
friend was getting married, and she had no one to take to the wedding. No
one to share the moment with, other than Collin, but that was different. It
wasn't the biggest deal, she knew--particularly with the much more serious
issues she'd faced lately--but she certainly wouldn't kick up too much of a
fuss if Fate wanted to throw her a bone or two in the man department.
"What happened to Max?"
Surprised to hear the voice, Sherry looked over and saw Piers
standing at her table.
Fate was so clearly mocking her.
Sherry frowned. "What are you doing here?" Perfect. Just the man
she wanted to run into right then.
"You haven't been answering your phone. Are you having problems
with it?" Piers looked displeased. Big surprise there.
"It seems to be working fine." Sherry reached into her purse and
pulled it out to check. She realized what she'd done. "Oh . . . I turned the
ringer down. I must not have heard the calls over the noise of the restaurant."
She peered up at him. "Were you trying to call me? Is something wrong?"
"Collin called. He couldn't reach you, got nervous, and called me. Then
we couldn't reach you or get through to the restaurant, so here I am," Piers
said.
Sherry ran her hands through her hair, feeling very tired. It had been
a long day--she'd gone one round with her opposing counsel in court,
another round with Silas, and then had been ditched by her date. From the
look on Piers's face, he was gearing up for another sparring match and she
wasn't sure she had it in her right then.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking when I turned down my phone. I
apologize that you had to run all the way over here for nothing. Glower at me
all you want--you've earned it this time."
Piers took a seat in the chair across from her.
"That being said," Sherry continued, "I would like to point out that
Officer Zuckerman has been over there at the bar, watching me all night, so
it's not as though I had any reason to believe I was in danger. And I'd also
like to state, for the record, that there was never any discussion about me
keeping my cell phone on at all times. If that was something you expected as
part of this surveillance, you should have stated it clearly up front to avoid
exactly this type of scenario."
Okay, so maybe she had just a tiny bit left for one last round.
Piers rested his arms on the table. "That has to be the worst apology
I've ever heard."
"I've had a chance to think things through. Seeing how I was only about
thirty percent at fault here, you get thirty percent of an apology."
"I see."
Sherry waited for him to say something further. "That's it? I expected
there to be a lot more. You know, with the growling and scowling."
"I could add a few curse words to that, if you like."
Sherry checked her grin just in time. "Not necessary, but thanks for
the offer."
They sat in silence for a moment, each one studying the other warily.
"So you never said what happened to your date," Piers led in.
"He had a last-minute conflict with work. For the third time in three
weeks." Sherry had no idea why she'd added that last piece of
information.
Piers's dark eyes studied her. "I hope you had better luck picking out
shoes that day."
He never ceased to amaze her. "How do you know how I met Max?"
Sherry asked.
"Kamin and Phelps are a wealth of information. They seem to be
having a blast being assigned to your detail."
"Shockingly, some people actually find me charming."
"I once found you charming, too," Piers said quietly.
It was as though the proverbial record had skipped to a stop, silencing
the room.
For the last week, she and Piers had danced around this very issue,
never actually discussing the past. But now that he had launched the first
salvo, she could either retreat or face him head-on. And she wasn't a
retreating kind of girl.
"The feeling was once mutual."
Piers mulled this over for a moment. "Now that we're working together,
maybe we should talk about what happened three years ago."
Sherry took a sip of her wine, trying to look casual. She chose her
words carefully. "I don't think there's anything that could be said that would do us any good."
Piers surprised her with his response. "I was wrong to say those things
to that reporter. I knew it right after I said it. That was . . . a rough time for me.
I was going to apologize to you. Of course, I never got the chance."
It was as she'd expected. He blamed her for his transfer, never
realizing how close he'd come to being dismissed from the FBI. Part of her
was tempted to tell him the truth and just get it all out there. But he was so
angry with her about the Martino case--about everything--that she didn't
know how he'd react. Logically, there was no good reason why she should
trust Piers. So she continued dodging the issue. "I appreciate your apology,"
she said matter-of-factly, hoping that would end the conversation.
His face hardened. "That's it?"
"There's not much more I can say about what happened back then."
Without taking a risk that the information would get back to Silas.
"You can tell me why you did it. I know you were pissed off about the
things I said, but did the sight of me really offend you so much that you
needed to have me thrown out of the entire city?"
Sherry knew it was time to end this conversation. "This isn't a good
idea, us talking about this."
Piers leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering in the soft light coming off
the candles in the center of the table. "I saw you come out of Davis's office
that morning, Sherry."
Anger got the better of her. She leaned in, meeting him halfway. "You
saw what you wanted to see," she snapped.
Sherry saw surprise register on Piers's face and knew she had said
too much. "Dammit, Piers. Just let it go." She stood up from the table and
walked away, not daring to utter another word.