Beneath the Surface Read Online Free

comment. “What? No. First of all, we have to figure out what’s causing the crack, then we need to stabilize it to prevent further damage.”
    “Oh.”
    Rick was proud of himself and his diversionary tactics until Robby frowned, cocked his head to the side, and asked him directly, “What do you do for living?”
    Perhaps he wasn’t so clever after all, but luck seemed to be on his side because just then Beth came toward them, looking apologetic. “I’m really sorry. This is going to take longer than I expected.”
    Shit. Rick turned to Robby. “Could you give us a sec?”
    That elicited the expected schoolboy grin. “Sure.” He scooted directly to the brunette for some gossip, Rick was sure, but he didn’t care because he had Beth alone for the moment and that was all he needed.
    “How about tonight? I certainly hope you’re not going to sit here all night long and watch this crack.” He was joking but actually, from what he had seen of her and her team so far, that might be the plan.
    She smiled. “No. I’ll set up a machine to monitor vibrations overnight and then measure the crack again in the morning. There’s not much else I can do tonight until I have those readings.”
    He returned her smile. “Good. Meet me later then. Dinner, drinks, herbal tea…whatever you want.”
    Rick watched the struggle going on inside of her clearly written on her face as she decided. The woman better never try to play poker. She totally did not have a poker face.
    Finally she nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll give you my cell phone number.” Then she stopped, pencil poised above her pad of paper, eyes opened wide. “I don’t even know your name.”
    He bet this was the first time she had ever agreed to a date without even knowing the guy’s name. He’d done far more than that with women without ever knowing their names, but he could tell Beth was so far out of her comfort zone he feared she would go running back into it if he didn’t act quick.
    This was not the kind of woman he usually took home from a bar, fucked, then asked her name…if they got around to that last part at all. He took the pencil and paper from her hands and wrote his name and his cell phone number, figuring she would feel better if the control lay in her own hands. Smiling, he handed the pad back to her. “Rick Jones. My cell phone number is on the paper. Call me when you get off work and I’ll meet you wherever you want. Hell, we can eat right here if you like. I’m finding Grand Central very interesting and that way you’ll be near your bricks.”
    Visibly relieved, she glanced down at his name and number, then smiled up at him and nodded. “All right. I’ll call you if anything comes up, but unless things change let’s plan on meeting here at the Oyster Bar around sixish?”
    “Perfect.” That would give him a few hours to do another sweep of the building, get in touch with his contact about this new tactic to get inside information, and come up with a convincing story about who this alias Rick Jones was and why he would be hanging around Grand Central Terminal in New York for days at a time. One thing he knew for sure, Rick Jones was going to be very interested in both this train station as well as the woman in charge of keeping it from literally falling to pieces.
     
    Was she putting too much thought into this? Beth stood in front of the store mirror and agonized over the tight black and very formfitting sweater as the sales girl stood by not so patiently and waited for her to make her decision. “Are you sure it isn’t…I don’t know…too revealing?”
    The clerk raised a brow. “It’s long sleeved with a high scoop neck.”
    Beth guessed that was a no and sighed. She didn’t have time to run home and change before her date. Date. Even just that word made her heart jump. Luckily her second home, Grand Central, was chock full of stores. She figured if she bought a black sweater to wear with the beige pants from her suit