Page 52 of High-Priority Asset

The sun took its time cracking over the horizon. As she sipped a cup of tea, watching daylight break through the sky, she got a text.

Dutch: We need to talk. Game for an early lunch?

Without hesitation, she messaged him back.

Let’s make it dinner. My place. I’ll cook.

She decided right then that her uncle’s call last night was a good sign and not an omen that there was something wrong with Dutch.

Isabel went through her routine for the day, started the heavy lifting on planning her uncle’s event, putting an emergency rush on the invitations, and had all but set aside her qualms until she updated Brenda.

“After one meeting, your uncle approved of Dutch instead of running him off with a shotgun?”

“I know, right?” Isabel went back to humming as she hung up the last new painting.

“What did Dutch have to do? Raid a corporation? Kill somebody?”

The melody died in Isabel’s throat. What a bizarre response. “Why on earth would you say that?” she asked, turning to face her friend.

Brenda opened her mouth as if to speak, then pressed her lips together and walked to the front desk.

Isabel followed her. “Why would you think killing someone would impress my uncle?”

“It was a poor joke,” Brenda said, avoiding eye contact while she shuffled paperwork around. “Sweetie, I know how much you love Uncle Emilio and because I love you, I’ll never say anything bad about him.”

“Bad like what?” The worst thing her uncle was guilty of was eating veal. Which admittedly was bad, but Brenda didn’t know about that.

Brenda huffed. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” She met her eyes and smiled. “I have a surprise. I was going to wait until later, but drumroll.” Brenda tapped imaginary drums in the air. “I told my hot yoga teacher how you were mugged and asked if he could start teaching a morning class or something and he offered to give me private lessons on Sundays. Just the two of us, where he can really help deepen my poses and give me a good stretch.” She winked.

Isabel gasped with delight. “You’ve been trying to get him one-on-one for months.”

“I know. He really made me work for it, too. I mean, you had to get robbed at knifepoint for Pete’s sake.” She walked back around the desk like she no longer needed it as a barrier. “I propose you skedaddle and go see your hottie early for dinner,” she said, using air quotes with the last word.

Dinner and dessert with lots of icing and several cherries. Isabel’s heart fluttered with anticipation, but guilt was quick on its heels. “I’ve already missed two days this week, leaving you to handle everything. I’d be a horrible friend if I skipped out early tonight, especially when I asked you not to change your schedule for me.”

“Pish, posh. Make it up to me by sharing a few juicy tidbits.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Okay. You really are the best friend I could ask for.”

Brenda nodded with a smug smile.

Isabel called for her car, wrapped up the rest of what she was doing, grabbed her purse from the office and went to the grocery store.

Inside, she headed straight for the fish department and waited in line for her turn.

A young man wearing Dickies work pants and a black shirt buttoned only at the top with a white tank top underneath, sneakers and a black-and-white bandana on his head came up to the front of the large case where the fish was displayed and looked around.

“How can I help you?” the fishmonger asked her after he was done with the last customer.

“I’m cooking seafood fra diavolo for two. Can you wrap up a mix of what’s freshest?”

“I’ve got some nice lobster tails, scallops and these beauties.” The fishmonger held up a handful of the plumpest shrimp she’d ever seen.

“Perfect.”

“Want me to prep it for you, remove the shells and devein the shrimp?”

That was why this was her favorite grocery store. “Yes, that’d be lovely.”