Page 162 of The Next Lie

The office door is closed.

From behind it comes the unmistakable sound of something hitting the floor, followed by a muffled cry that makes my eyebrows climb.

I slow my steps, stopping to look at the door with a lifted eyebrow. Nash looks at me. Another thump.

Then Reva’s voice, sharp and breathless. “I hate you.”

A low male answer follows. Too quiet to catch. Then the desk screeches across the floor.

Well, then.

I tuck the towels securely under my arm. “Should I take it your desk is accepting visitors, or is this a hostage situation?”

Nash’s eyes narrow. “Just keep walking.”

Oh, he’s so irritated. I love it. This is almost better than poking at Ever. I make a mock-concerned face.

“I would, but I’m worried about the furniture.” The only piece of furniture in that room is that heavy metal desk.

Nash rolls his eyes, looking a little like Reva in the moment. “It’s insured.”

“Against Deacon Cross?”

His jaw works. “Nothing is insured against Deacon Cross.”

A sound comes from inside the office that is definitely Reva and definitely not distress. Nash closes his eyes for half a second, which is the closest I have ever seen him come to prayer.

I lean one shoulder against the wall and study my fingernails. “You know, when I suggested a schedule, I was mocked.”

“You suggested it in the carriage house while she was half naked.”

“I felt the timing gave the idea urgency.”

The door at the far end of the hall opens, and Ever steps out. He takes in Nash, me, the closed door, and the silence that follows a very clear feminine gasp.

His expression does not change. That’s because Ever is disciplined and boring when he’s not being terrifying, and that’s why I like to poke at him so damn much.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “Oh wait…letter from Deacon.”

“So Deacon brought Reva correspondence, and she may now be composing a reply on Nash’s desk?” I ask. “That’s…gracious of her.”

Ever looks at Nash.

Nash’s mouth tightens. “She was angry.”

“That tracks.”

Cal appears from the bar end of the hall, coffee mug in hand. He stops when he sees all three of us standing in the hall.

“What are we doing?” His gaze flicks between the three of us.

Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea for all of us to come to Noir today. But then again, Reva wanted to work, and Cal wanted to be where Reva was, and Nash had business to attend to, and Ever and I are always here, running things, anyway…it’s ironic, really.

The desk squeaks across the floor again. Cal’s head tips, and his gaze goes to the door.

Then to Nash.

Then to me.