Page 9 of Brazilian Surrender
Chapter Four
“You’ve been friends for two years?” Jaeger asked.
Lee took a swig of some hipster tea drink he’d offered Jaeger when he’d arrived at his Manhattan apartment a couple of minutes ago. The place sure looked like it belonged to a well-off couple, if the Persian rugs and artwork were anything to go by.
Lee fixed his black-rimmed sleek glasses. “Yes.”
Jaeger sat at the edge of his seat, tapping his shoe on the carpet. “During this time did you two ever fight or have a disagreement?” he asked, glancing around.
Lee waved him off, chuckling. “Are you kidding me? How can you argue with Camila? She’s a doll. I love her.”
Jaeger silently agreed. “She told me you used to be her roommate, then you left.”
Lee crossed his legs. The young intern wore a pale pink shirt and gray slacks that looked designer. The extravagant apartment he lived in belonged to a successful real estate realtor, Mark Hamilton. “Yes, my boyfriend asked me to move in with him,” he said, swirling his fingers around. “As you see, I could have done a lot worse.”
No doubt.“Is there anyone, either at the hospital or socially, who would benefit from Camila moving back to Brazil?”
Lee scratched his chin. “Not that I can think of…besides Ralph.”
“Who’s Ralph?”
Lee narrowed his green eyes at him. “She hasn’t told you?”
Jaeger shook his head, and he continued.
“Then ask her. I’m not here to gossip about my best friend. Camila told me someone she hired was coming over to ask a few questions about those creepy letters she’s been getting, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give you an exposé. I don’t even know you. For all I know, you may want to hurt her, too,” he said, his voice losing any trace of amusement. Concern flickered in his eyes.
“I guarantee that’s not the case. Call her and ask if I’m Jaeger, whom she hired to help her out.”
Lee didn’t move an inch or reach for his cell phone. “Like I said, I love Camila. I would hate for anything to happen to her. What are your credentials and how exactly are you going to find her stalker?”
Jaeger stood up. He wasn’t about to discuss his credentials or plans with Lee. “I’m not here for a job interview. If you want to help your friend, tell me about Ralph.”
Lee frowned. “Ralph was a douche she dated for a while. He wanted to, ummm, do different things in bed, and she said no. So one day they had an argument, and she humiliated him in front of the entire bar.”
Different things in bed. Jaeger curled is fingers into a ball, unsure if he was mad because Camila dated a string of unworthy men, or because he happened to be unworthy as well. He should be relieved—that meant she would never go for the handcuffs he kept in his nightstand drawer—yet ridiculous frustration clogged his throat. “What’s Ralph’s last name?”
“Sorry, can’t remember.”
Jaeger reached into his pocket and fished out a card. “If you remember anything else, call me.”
Lee nodded and grabbed the card. “Jaeger Bauer. Like James Bond. Jason Bourne,” he said, with a pang of mockery.
Jaeger rolled his eyes and headed for the entrance. During his days in the NYPD he’d heard enough jokes due to his initials and wished he’d had a middle name to go by. “Thanks for your time.”
Lee opened the door for him, and his expression sobered. Jaeger motioned to walk by, but Lee stepped forward. “I hope you can help Camila, but if you hurt her in any way, you’re in deep shit,” he said, his eyes darkening.
“You care for her,” Jaeger said, more an accusation than a comment.
Lee let out a sigh, the planes of his face softening. “Of course I do. That’s what friends do.”
Jaeger narrowed his eyes. “That’s what friends do,” he repeated, but a warning light inside him flashed. What if Lee’s feelings for Camila were anything but friendly?
Forty minutes later, Lee’s words still pounded in his head as he exited the elevator and marched into the hallway of his building. Not just the possessive way he talked about her but also the revelation about someone she used to date. She’d broken up with Ralph because he propositioned something out of the ordinary in bed.
“Hi, Jaeger,” said Omar, his most trusted bodyguard, who had been assigned to follow Camila during the day.
Jaeger reached in his pocket for his apartment keys. He could knock on the door and have her open it, but unlocking his own door meant he owned it, and she was just a guest. “Any news?” Jaeger asked Omar.
