Hearts Through Time

ONE

Sacramento California, present day

"You have two minutes to come rescue me before I scream."

What in the... Nicholas Marshal tightened his grip on the cell phone, bringing it closer to his ear. He moved away from the window overlooking Capitol Street—one of the busiest thoroughfares—as the street was clogged with traffic, making it difficult for him to hear the caller. In the distance, thunder boomed as if trying to compete with the honks and roars of car engines from outside. The ominous weather soured his mood almost as much as the crazy woman on the phone.

He scowled. Who could possibly be calling him on the first day of his new law practice and say something like that? Perhaps it was a prank.

"I think you have the wrong number," he snapped.

"Nick, I mean it. I need your help. Now!"

It only took him a second before he recognized the voice. "Vanessa? Is that you?"

"Of course it is! Who else would be calling you in a panic this early in the morning?"

What she said was true, but he still wondered why she was up at eight o'clock in the morning to begin with. Thankfully, the call wasn't a reporter from one of the tabloid magazines that had been hounding him for the past six months. After refusing an interview for so long, he hoped they had given up on him.

"What are you up to now, Vanessa?"

Another grumble came from the other end. "Nick, I don't think we have time for small talk right now. Although, I'm glad you recognized my voice, how did you know it was me?"

"Because I've only been back in town one week, and you're the only woman I know with the canine senses to track me down so quickly."

She released a horrific gasp. "Are you calling me a dog?"

He held back a laugh. Vanessa was anything but a dog; in fact, she'd always been a perfect 10...at least in the physical sense. However, her personality was a different matter. "No. It just means you can track me down no matter where I go."

Nick grabbed the chilled bottle of water off his desk and took a long drink. He wasn't kidding, either. He and Vanessa had dated over five years ago, but they remained friends, and she always knew where he was and what he was doing.

"So, Vanessa, what do you need?" He sat behind his desk and leaned his elbows on the oak top.

"I'm in the elevator down the hall from your office, and I'm stuck."

He nearly choked on his water. "Stuck? How did you accomplish that?"

"Well, if you'll stop yakking for a minute and come to the elevator, you'll see."

Chuckling, Nick set down the bottle of water, pushed away from his desk, and hurried out of his office. "All right, I'm coming." He ended the call and slid his cell phone into the pocket of his suit jacket.

Finding out Vanessa was in town explained why things were already going wrong. This past week disaster after disaster happened in the old building, worrying him that he might not reach his goal in opening his doors the day he had advertised to be open for business. If it wasn't the air conditioner breaking down, it was the water leak in the bathroom that threatened to ruin the new carpet inside his office.

Now another disaster was here...Vanessa Westland. Her arrival only meant mayhem. He didn't expect clients to be lined up at the door on the first day he opened to the public—not yet—but he definitely had a bad feeling about his ex-girlfriend scaring off any clients if they did happen to arrive, seeking his services.