Page 54 of Running to You

While Sam took their bags to the trunk, the man in the driver’s seat wrapped his arm around the passenger headrest and faced her. “Been a long time.”

“Thanks for doing this.” She took in the fancy auto. “Based on the ride, I’m guessing business is good.”

“This old thing? It’s my spare.” Colton Gray winked. He’d always been overly friendly, but she’d never felt anything but safe with him.

The trunk slammed, and Sam climbed into the passenger seat. “Let’s go.”

Colton hit the gas, and Eliza was slammed back against her seat.

“We’re okay,” Sam said. “You don’t have to fly.”

“Who said I did?” He whipped through town and out the other side in a matter of seconds. She worried they’d be pulled over, except who’d see anything but a blur as they passed?

Eliza remembered her last conversation with Colton. “You still in the bullion business?”

“And loving it.”

“Market’s been good lately,” she said. “Volatile.”

“That’s the key,” Colton agreed. “Whether it’s going up or down, the more trades the better. As long as you buy low and sell high.”

“And hedge,” she added. “You do that yourself or you pay someone?”

“I don’t trust anybody else to do it right.” Colton aimed the car toward Portland. “You can lose your shirt if someone screws up the hedge.”

“No kidding. And even if you do it right, you have to be careful not to deplete your cash with too much inventory. You have to know what’ll move and what won’t. I try to take advantage of the arbitrage as much as possible. Sell, then buy, take the profit in the middle.”

Colton glanced at her in the rearview. “You’ve obviously been busy since we last talked. You working for a bullion retailer? Or doing it on your own?”

She blinked. “Uh…”

Sam, she realized, had stayed very still for the entire conversation. Not interrupting. Just letting her talk. She wished she could see his face.

“Remember the last time I saw you two?” Colton seemed oblivious to the sudden tension. “You grilled me about what I did, how it worked. You remember that, Sam?”

Sam nodded.

“You kept asking me to explain. I remember thinking you should just take notes for as many questions as you asked. Sounds like you figured it out.”

“I guess so,” she said, though she couldn’t explain it.

She’d always had an innate understanding of how money worked. She’d studied finance in college, and after she’d sold Dad’s business and lost her job, she’d gone to work as an investment adviser. She’d dealt with mutual funds, retirement accounts, that sort of thing. There was a big difference between a financial planner and a bullion trader. A big difference between paper stocks and gold and silver coins and bars.

It seemed she’d learned a lot in the last five years. But where? And why?

Was that related to the couple she’d moved away with? Maybe she’d left with them and then struck out on her own. That must’ve been the case, because what could bullion trading possibly have to do with a drug rehab center?

She tried to remember. Tried to put it together. All that gave her was a fresh headache that had her closing her eyes.

She didn’t open them again until Colton turned into a parking lot behind a long row of townhouses. Between the buildings, she caught a view of the water. That had to be Portland Harbor.

He whipped into a parking spot. “This is where I leave you. Sam, you need instructions on how to handle a machine like this?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Not sure you’re acquainted with quite so much power under the hood.”

“Idiot.” But the word held humor.