She jerked, and surprisingly, he let her go. As she backed away from him, she refused to look away, but her pepper spray lay on the ground. She needed to find it.
He held up his hand. "I only stopped you because I don't need any more attention brought to us. You would've screamed or run, and we would've had trouble on us before we reached the end of the block."
Stars danced on the edges of her vision. She needed to breathe.
He reached into his back pocket, removed his wallet, and retrieved a piece of paper. "Here's my business card. I want you to call the number. The person who answers can verify who I am." He motioned for her to take it. "You can even take a picture of me and send it if you'd like. You'll get my secretary. Her name is Suzanne."
"I just want you to go away and let me leave." She backed away.
He shook his head. "I need to talk with you."
"If you need shelter—"
"Do I look like I need shelter?" He took out his phone and made a call, putting it on speaker.
"Sir, it's late. I'm going home."
"Suzanne, I need you to tell Aubrey Haydon who I am," he said.
Her foot finally found the pepper spray, and she bent over and picked it up. She held it in front of her, aimed at him.
"Hello, Aubrey. Mr. Adams owns Adams Investment. He's my boss. Usually, he's a very generous man, except when he has me working after six o'clock." Suzanne tsked. "Was there anything else you'll be needing tonight, sir?"
"That's it. Go home, Suzanne."
"Thank you, sir."
He disconnected the call and glanced at Aubrey's hand. She had plenty of time to spray him, but she refrained because he hadn't tried to grab her again.
"What do you want?" Her hand shook.
"I want to take you out for a drink."
"No."
"A coffee?" he asked.
This was the most absurd thing she'd ever experienced. It was late. The man had already trespassed into the shelter, set off the alarm, stolen a water bottle, and now assaulted her on the sidewalk. It was obvious he wasn't homeless. She had no idea whether to believe his secretary on the phone or if it was all a setup to kidnap her.
"Right now, all I want to do is go to my car." She also wanted to go home, but she was afraid he'd follow her, and the last thing she needed was him finding out where she lived.
"Please." She stepped away from him. "Just let me go, and no one needs to know about you grabbing me."
He slid his hands into his front pocket. "I'm not keeping you here."
She stifled her groan of frustration. His tactics reminded her of her mom. She was used to being asked why she was mad, right after her mom told her everything that was wrong with her. It was a form of manipulation. Just another thing she didn't miss since her mom died.
"Meet me at the Davonport Hotel in half an hour." He lowered his voice. "I need to talk to you about the shelter if you plan to keep it open."
Her skin prickled. "What about the shelter?"
Suddenly on guard, she wanted to know why he'd even bring the shelter up to her. She owned the building and ran the non-profit. He knew nothing about her or her business.
He walked in the opposite direction she needed to go. "I'll get us a table in the lounge."
He continued walking without looking back. Afraid he was going to change his mind and come after her, she stayed there until he rounded the corner out of sight. The moment he was gone, she turned and ran toward the parking lot.
Not even taking the time to talk to George, the man who ran security on the lot, she got into her car and drove away. She made it to the end of the block when a red light stopped her. What would Serge Adams know about her shelter that would require meeting her?
