Okay, then. Elisa studied the card for a minute. She was too new to the area to recognize the address, but if she could get a hotel room with Wi-Fi, she could map it pretty easily.
Exhaustion rolled over her in a wave. If she decided to get a hotel room tonight. Everything she owned was stuffed into her car, not that there was much. Just as easy to sleep in her car if she could find a safe place to park, tucked away and secure. She could find an out-of-the-way rest stop and catch a little sleep before trying to find a job tomorrow morning. It’d be cheaper and not as easy to find her.
The thought of stretching out in a king-sized bed—hell, a queen-sized bed, even—tempted her to be reckless. She shook her head and took a cautious sip of hot coffee. This was comfort. Splurging on a hotel room was ill-advised at best.
Even trying not to think of the worst-case scenario, her heart rate kicked up and she glanced at the entryway. No one was there. Not yet. Hopefully, no one would come in looking for her.
Once upon a time, she’d had a steady salary in a corporate environment and an expense budget for travel. A king-sized bed was a given. Now, she’d be glad to get an hourly job with some sort of benefits. Even fast food restaurants had full-time positions if it came down to it. But she’d try bookstores or maybe a nearby mall first. Anything fast to get an income going while she looked for a more stable position. Practicality first, bruised pride later. Better than other bruises that took months to heal.
She’d think more on it. Later, when her thought processes weren’t skipping around between what she ought to do and what might come through the door at any minute. After she had her wrist examined. One step at a time.
As she worked through her jumbled thoughts, realization washed over her in a wave of caffeine. She’d completely misjudged the man at first. He’d done one nice thing after another, and she hadn’t thanked him. Not once.
Elisa looked around the waiting room. A few people had entered, but the room seemed emptier somehow, without the girl and her dad. Boom, he’d called her. Had to be her nickname. Elisa could picture the girl kicking butt in a martial arts class. “Boom” was probably appropriate. Imagining what her father could do was something Elisa shied away from, but the thought was tantalizing more than frightening.
Elisa shifted her position in her seat, her hamstrings and backside aching from hours of driving. This time, it’d been too close. She’d driven up Interstate 95 for as long as she’d been able to manage it before stopping. This was about as far away from where she’d started as she could get and stay on the same continent.
Her foot hit something, and she looked down to see a stray glove on the floor, almost under the chair. She bent to pick it up and found a tag on the inside wrist of the glove.
Boom.
Hope’s Crossing Kennels.
Elisa rose and wondered if she could ask the nurse to return the glove to Boom and her father. After all, they’d be here a while.
But as she approached the desk, the nurse took the clipboard from her without looking at her. “Thank you, dear. They’ll be calling you any minute now to take you back. Have a seat.”
Before Elisa could say anything about the glove, the nurse had turned her attention to another person who’d just entered. Elisa jumped, then silently cursed herself. And there were two more people coming through the doors. The night was getting busier.
Heart pounding, Elisa returned to her seat and struggled to remain watchful without letting fear get the best of her. Hopefully, she’d either catch sight of Boom in the ER area or ask a nurse to find the girl and her father to return the glove.
She really wanted to manage to thank him if she saw him again.
Chapter Two
Some mornings were just a little more challenging than others.
It was a good thing getting to work didn’t involve traffic, driving, or more than a two-minute walk. Life had its simplicities that way, and Alex Rojas reminded himself that things could always be worse.
He could have to wear a tie to work, for example.
He hurried out the front door of his home, letting it slam shut behind him as he tugged the one clean polo he had left over his head. He jogged down the porch steps and across the yard to the side entrance to the main building of Hope’s Crossing Kennels. Living on the property was another thing to appreciate.
The dogs in residence came to their feet to greet him as he passed by each of their enclosures.